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For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1
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11 - Classes, Week Eighteen, First Year
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Sunday, December 27, 1998:
Gotham City, Wayne Manor
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"Sure we can't loan you a van?" Dad asked. "We can pick it up next time we're in Columbus, it's not a bother."

"No, no, that's..." Mr. Morton said, but Mrs. Morton interrupted her husband, saying, "It wouldn't be an imposition?"

"Look at this garage!" Mom snorted. "Please, take it, it's not a problem. He doesn't drive three quarters of them, I don't know why he spent the money." She glanced at Dad, then whispered, "He gets, well, you know, and he buys another car. At least it's not yachts," she said with a roll of her eyes. "We'll give you a really good price on it if you're interested. You've got my email address?" Mrs. Morton nodded, and Mom continued, "Talk it over, and let us know if you're interested."

"If you're sure..." Mom ducked inside, grabbed a set of keys, then said, "Number 30 only has a few thousand miles on it. If you pull over that way, you can fill the tank on us." She clasped the keys in Mrs. Morton's hand, and said, "Talk it over, and let us know."

Arthur wandered over to where I sat on the garage steps, observing, and joined me, saying quietly, "Y'know, Mattie, money can't buy everything. Not everything's for sale."

"I know," I snorted. "Dad gets, well, in a mood sometimes, and has to buy something. Mom and I are trying to break him of the habit. I mean, there's like sixty cars in here, and he usually drives two or three. Mom drives that beat up station wagon on the end, there." I shrugged, and said, "What am I gonna do?"

Henry was admiring Sheila's black Mercedes convertible with the GCLAW tags. Sheila asked, "Thought about what you want to do after high school? College, maybe the service?"

"I've still got a year and a half, but yeah, I'm going to have to get the grants and student loans, and with working and Mom's employee discount, I think I can afford Ohio State," he admitted. "I've been thinking about the Air Force, with Wright-Patterson so close, you know."

"Air Force is a fine service, Henry," she advised. "How's your vision? Do you want to fly? What do you want to major in?"

"Well, it's not very macho, y'know, but I was thinking about vet school. I'm good at math, do trig and calculus in my head," he admitted. "The only way I can see anything like med school is to have the service pay for it."

"A suggestion for you, then, Henry. You can look into the Army's veterinary program." She grinned, and said, "Don't let my not recommending the Corps get around, though."

"Corps? You're a Marine?" She nodded, adding "Marine Reserves. I handle criminal law in the Advocate's office." She paused, then asked, "If you want, I know a fellow in the local Army office, or you can cross-train by joining the Corps, and training at the Army's veterinary school." She fished a business card out of the armrest, and said, "Talk it over with your family, let me know."

The Cortez family was crying and talking in rapid Spanish. Dick and Barbara wandered over and joined us on the steps. Dick ruffled my hair, saying, "This was a really nice thing to do, Mattie."

"Hey, you'll ruin my rep as an evil, mean hard-ass at school!" I complained.

Babs snorted, saying, "You blew that when you snatched that guy out of midair, kiddo."

Arthur chuckled, then said, "Hey, can you two cover for us for a minute? I've got something I want to give Mattie." Dick looked at Babs, then motioned with his head.

Arthur grabbed my hand, and upstairs asked, "Could you get that present from me? The one that said 'WAIT' on it?

I nodded, and fetched it, and sat on the staircase next to him. Arthur said, "I wanted to wait until the family was gone. Merry Christmas, Mattie. Go ahead and open it." I sliced open the paper, and inside the box, found a small crystal in the shape of a rainbow. Flashes of color danced across its surface as I held it to the light.

"Where did you get this?" I asked.

"Nowhere," Arthur said. "I made it, and four more just like it. It'll absorb an 'arcus' spell, but it only works once."

I looked at Arthur and said; "Charms is your worst subject after Herbology."

"I've been studying with Professor Flitwick. He gave me some pointers and the one we tested worked perfectly. I made them for you, Sprink, Roshawn and Shaundra."

"Thank you." I kicked at the carpet, and said, "My present seems so... well, wussy, now. Like I just threw money at the problem." I looked at him, and said, "Sorry."

"The fountain pen? Nah, I hate the damn quills. Thanks." He was quiet for a minute, then said, "Look, there's a reason behind that, you know. Remember that 'arcus' thing in DADA?" I nodded, and he continued, "I was so damn proud of myself. The only person in class who even tried to score two hundred points off Professor Potter and I pulled it off. Then he asked me what use it was in a fight."

"Well, he is teaching DADA. Even if Professor Harry didn't specifically state the spell had to have a defensive use, it wasn't unreasonable of him to ask if there was one."

"I know. But in class, I answered 'cast it in someone's eyes' and he gave me another fifty points. Yeah, Hufflepuff! The common room just freaked, y'know, the 'loser house' actually has a shot of winning the house cup because of me. Then he suggested that everyone write it down and I'm thinking 'Damn I'm good!' and patting myself on the back, y'know?"

I chuckled and said, "Severe attack of ego? Not that I blame you."

"Yeah. But it all turned to ashes when he said 'Usage: Temporary blinding of an opponent.' Poof. There goes my good mood."

"Why? It's a temporary spell. You're not blinding someone permanently, you know."

"Yeah, yeah," Arthur said. "But, y'see, my intention was to get two hundred points and make something nice that... people might like. Like ... one of those sparkly window ornaments. But because of what Professor Potter said, my intent went right out the window."

I sighed, "Arthur, maybe it's me, but you can use just about anything as a weapon, and as far as intentions, maybe whoever invented the AK intended to use it for pest control. Are you blaming Professor Harry for that? I mean, his job is to teach us to fight with magic. Once you come up with something, you can't control how other people use it."

"You're right, I can't. Doesn't mean I'm happy about it. But at least the next time someone tries to blind you with my spell, it won't work." He twitched his wrist and his wand popped into his hand. I grabbed his hand, and asked, "Did Professor Sprout get you a temporary permit? Because you know we're not supposed to do magic outside school."

He glanced at me, and said, "I know. I've got an itch." He poked at his back, and I scratched it with my nails. He put it away, asking, "Thanks. Did Professor Snape get you one?" I nodded, and he snorted, "Figures. Something else for the loser house, Hufflepuff."

I snorted. "Trade ya for Slytherin." He raised his eyebrow, and I continued, "You know the Snake's Den has a Dark reputation?" He nodded, and I added, "The reputation is that we're constantly scheming and plotting, we're evil incarnate, we'll hex or AK someone if they look at us wrong?" He nodded again, and I snorted. "We are SO tired of that, but what can we do? First we had Grindelwald, a Slytherin Dark wizard that Dumbledore took out in 1945, and then we have Voldie and his merry band, who were also mostly Slytherin." I sighed, "It's like being related to Hitler and Pol Pot. You can be a white wizard, firmly on the side of Dumbledore, but if you're wearing Slytherin colors and go into a Diagon Alley shop, you still get looked at funny."

"That sucks." He was quiet for a minute, then said, "That's why you guys are into all the clubs and stuff, like the DA?"

"Partially. It helps people to know we're not as Dark as our reputation paints us, but the real motive for Slytherin, before it was corrupted by the Dark, was simply to be the best. That's it. With the DA, we can practice and improve ourselves. Nothing wrong with that, is there?" I sighed, then said, "Hey, thanks for the gift, and for letting me cry on your shoulder."

"No problem. Thanks for letting me return the favor."

"Sure. Can I ask you one thing, though?" He looked at me, and I said, "Hear me out, ok? You know that Professor Harry was just a regular guy like us six months ago? Then Professor Dumbledore asked him to teach DADA, and he doesn't have any formal teacher's training?" He blinked, and I added, "I know about the DA, but that's a club, not formal classes. In his shoes, I know I'd be making plenty of mistakes." I held out one foot, and said, "Hey, in my own shoes, I already am! But all I'm saying is, think about how you might do in his position, ok? Just ... think about it, ok?"

"Sure. Two questions, though. Why would Dumbledore offer him the job, and why would he take it?"

"Who knows? From what Ian and some of the other seventh-years said, DADA has the reputation of a jinxed position. Professor Lupin had the job in their second year, and then in their fifth and sixth."

"So why didn't he continue?"

"He's a werewolf, but rumor was Dumbledore had to reappoint him despite the political opposition because nobody else wanted it. He's a good teacher, from what I hear." I snorted, and said, "I'd rather have a werewolf than Binns."

"Yeah," Arthur was silent, then said, "Why do you think Professor Potter took the job?"

"Dunno, but he's a Gryff, he has to help someone. Maybe he thought 'Hey, teaching won't be any different than the DA,' and found out differently. I'll bet he's been getting some coaching in the staffroom. Notice how he hasn't offered two hundred points for anything lately?"

"Yeah. Five or ten, like the others." He snorted, then said, "I never claimed to be a teacher, though."

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I had just gotten settled for studying in front of the fire with Arthur and the twins. Uncle Doc appeared in the living room door, calling, "Girls, can you come with me for a minute? Your parents asked me to go over something with you."

Arthur looked up, asking, "Do you need me, sir?"

"I'll be going over this with you later son," he replied. "Just the girls for now."

Arthur shrugged, and I looked at the twins, who looked as mystified as I was. I followed Uncle Doc to the first floor medical bay, where he motioned us to take a seat on the examining table. He smiled at us, and said, "Ladies, I'm a retired obstetrician and gynecologist, and your parents have asked me to give you this little talk." He yanked a green cloth off something, and indicated a plastic model. "You're maturing, and this is what your bodies will be like."

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I sat back on the carpet, and stared into the flames in the fireplace. The twins were in a similar state, and Arthur got up, and waved his hand in front of my face. "Mattie? Shaundra? Roshawn? Hello? Come on guys, you're scaring me. Hello?"

"They've just taken in some information that I'm going to give to you Arthur," Uncle Doc said. "Would you come with me please?"

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Wednesday, December 30, 1998:
Scotland, Inverness International Airport
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I smiled at the Queen's Customs fellow, who asked, "Anything to declare, love?"

"Just my school trunk, sir," I said. "I took it home for the holidays, and I wish I hadn't. It was too bulky."

"They can be," he agreed. "Pop it up here, would you?" I wrestled it up from the cart onto the low counter, and opened it for him. Even though I could see my silver wand and textbooks, apparently he couldn't. He stamped my passport, with a "Good luck in school, love!" and helped me get the trunk back on the cart with a smile. I tugged on the cart, and joined the others, who were waiting for me.

"One stop to make first, gang," Babs said. She checked her notes, then drove the van around to the airport's cargo area. "We need to pick up some stuff for the network. Grab some carts, will you?"

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We pulled up behind another car that was unloading. Harry Spencer waved, and moved over, saying, "Afternoon! How was everyone's Christmas?"

"Just fine, Mr. ... Spencer, isn't it?" Babs replied. He nodded, and moved to help pull some long steel racks from the back of the van. Harry grinned, and mentioned, "Brought my laptop, thought it might be useful."

"It will, thank you. Once we get inside, we can find out how far along everything is."

"Ah, Mrs. Grayson! How wonderful to see you again!" Professor Dumbledore called. He was accompanied by a swarm of house elves, which immediately started to levitate trunks and packages. "Why don't you rest today, as tomorrow will be soon enough to resume work." He took her hand and tucked it in his elbow, adding, "Come now, the elves have prepared another splendid feast for dinner. Won't you join us?"

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Thursday, December 31, 1998:
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Common table
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I moved over to the single, large table when Professor Flitwick waved to me. I smiled, and asked as I sat next to him, "How was your Christmas, professor?"

"Most excellent, Miss Wayne, and yours?" he squeaked.

I smiled; the professor seemed to be on a perpetual sugar high. "Excellent, sir, but I missed all of you." I motioned at the single round table, and asked, "Is this normal?"

"For when only a few of us are here, it makes much more sense than to have only a few people at each House table," he nodded. "Besides, this allows people from different houses to eat together."

I nodded, and turned when Babs tapped her goblet. "May I have everyone's attention for a moment? Thank you." She smiled, and said, "The Headmaster informs me that the elves have run the cabling to the different locations. While we had originally planned to have just the computer people here, if you're interested in helping out, I won't object." She smiled at the twins, Arthur and Ginny (who had arrived with Professor Harry), and continued, "It won't be very glamorous work, but I would appreciate it, especially since we're ahead of schedule."

"Capital idea, I think! Minerva, Severus? It should be most interesting!" Professor Dumbledore said. "When can we start, Mrs. Grayson?"

"Please, call me Babs," she grinned. "I think that since both Mattie and Mr. Spencer have laptops, they walk about and test connections in the dorms. However, first we need to get the back end installed and tested. The foundation of the structure, so to speak." People nodded, and she continued, "For today, after breakfast," she gestured at the table, "we get that put together, and the equipment installed in each House."

The headmaster smiled, and said, "Since Pomona owled me with the news she will be late, I will take care of Hufflepuff house."

"Is there a problem, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"No, no. Her granddaughter went into labor prematurely; although the last I heard from the maternity ward at St. Mungo's, she was fine. Severus, you're running a book on the child's birth, I believe?" Professor Snape nodded, and the headmaster said, "I will wager ten galleons on..." he tapped his chin in thought, then said, "female, two and a half pounds, and ... fourteen inches."

"Done." Professor Snape snapped his notebook shut, and drained his teacup. "I shall be in my office if I am needed. Good day." He nodded to the table, and stalked off, black robes swirling.

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When I walked into the fourth floor computer room, the twins were screwing things together while Ginny attached Arthurian transformers to the walls with sticking charms. Arthur assembled and tested a computer while Babs was typing on her laptop, connected to a server. She looked up and called, "Mr. Potter! A moment please?" He moved over to her, awkwardly carrying his own laptop. Professor Flitwick joined them a moment later, his own boxed laptop floating behind him.

Karen and Kelly entered, and Babs waved them over. Professor Flitwick levitated the server to a rack, where it was screwed in and powered up. Kelly cheered as she logged in on the computer Arthur had assembled, then started to type. Babs motioned us all together, then said, "All right. While Kelly gets all the accounts entered, we need you to get the switches installed in the different Houses." She grinned, and added, "You're a bit territorial, so I'm going to show you on the one we'll install for the library. You'll be installing one in each Head's office, just like this one. Grab two computers and two scanners from the hallway, and something out of the library pile, and come with me."

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"What do you want?" Madam Pince snapped. She spied the various bits of equipment, and said, "That foolish idea of the Headmaster. Very well, over here." She turned and stalked off, muttering to herself.

"Charming person. Come on," Babs said. We followed her to a small room, where a thin, orange pair of fiber cables dropped down from the ceiling. A stack of books waited outside with Madame Pince, who sniffed and stalked off as we unpacked things.

"All right. We'll be installing this in each of your Houses. The first thing we need to do is to get the rack together, and attached to the wall. The orange cable is delicate, it's the fiber circuit back to the computer room, and it's made of spun glass, so be very gentle with it." I nodded with the rest, and Babs said, "The gray cables on the wall connect to the workstations. They're numbered, and plug into the corresponding jacks on the back of the black patch panel." She tapped it, and continued, "The short gray cables go between the black Cisco switch and the patch panel." She pulled a sheet of paper out, and added, "This list tells you which one goes where. Since this will be one of the scanning rooms, we'll be installing two computers and scanners in here. Mattie, could you and Mr. Spencer fetch your laptops so you can test while we get this set up?" I nodded, and followed Harry out.

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I had done rock, paper, and scissors with Harry Spencer, and lost, so I knocked on Madame Pince's office door. "What is it?" She snapped.

I swallowed nervously, and answered, "Mattie Wayne, ma'am. I'm here to test your network connection."

The door banged open, and she said, "Well, come on, then. Get this foolishness out of the way. I've got too much work to do to waste time."

"Yes, ma'am," I said as I entered. "We'll be delivering your computer later, and Professor Harry will be coming by to give you a briefing." She glared at me, and I gave her a weak smile, sticking a transformer to the wall as I plugged in to the network. I tapped on the keyboard, running the test program. Smiling, I said, "Everything tests correctly. Thank you for your time, ma'am." I nodded and escaped as quickly as I could politely do so.

Harry Spencer was waiting for me outside. He grinned, and said, "How'd you do with the old bat? She gives hags a bad name."

I shrugged. "So-so. I'm glad I'm not the one who has to train her."

"True. I may be a courageous Gryff, but it doesn't mean I'm stupid." I chuckled, and he said, "For someone whose family members regularly confront the worst of Gotham, I wouldn't think you'd be afraid of a librarian."

I stopped and looked at him. "Excuse me?"

He waved me over, and pulled a chair out for me. Taking another, he straddled it, and quietly told me, "Every year, my security people get a copy of the incoming class list for Hogwarts." I nodded, and he continued, "The last couple years, after they've done a muggle background check on all of them, I've cross-checked it against the Wizarding Who's Who. Your mother and father had very interesting entries, which changed later to fairly innocuous ones." He gazed at me, and asked, "What conclusion would you draw?"

"How trustworthy you are, and if I should kill you." I said.

"I have no doubt you could. I saw the article in the Daily Planet, you know. However, I also know your family never kills. Now, considering that the library's copies of Who's Who vanished for a time at the beginning of the school year, the known close working relationship between Superman and Batman, and that your godparents are Mrs. Lane and her husband Clark, I wonder if Mr. Lane is..."

I gazed at him through narrowed eyes, and he concluded with a whisper, "... Superman."

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