A/N: Many thanks to those who have read this story. It's nice to know that it's not totally for my own benefit, though even that wouldn't have stopped me. I hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Oh yeah, I guess I should throw in a disclaimer thing. Obviously, if this is a fan fiction, I don't own it.
Chapter Six
DADA and the New Professors
"Welcome, first years, to Defense Against the Dark Arts."
When Professor Beale uttered those words, Tyla assessed the man's total incompetence. Wonderful idea of the other professors starting her with him. What a better way to introduce the new teacher and the floating substitute than to have them in the same class room, they'd said. Perhaps sitting in the hallway pulling her toenail out would have been better. At least it would have been more intelligent.
She let out the breath she'd been holding as she closed her eyes. It was better than watching the sixth year NEWT students looking around with confusion. Tyla felt embarrassed having to associate with Beale now.
"Professor," she said, forcing the mounting aggravation out voice as best she could, "These are your Advanced NEWT students, sir."
He frowned at Tyla then looked at students in the room. Beale's eyes scanned the crowd, still frowning. A few moments later, his attention turned back to the substitute.
"Are you sure? They look like little kids." He looked at the students, "Scrawny lot, aren't they?"
She couldn't begin to dignify that with an answer. Instead, she forced a polite smile and picked up a scroll from his desk.
"Shall I call roll for you, sir?"
He waved his hand dismissively, giving her the ok. It took serious effort to keep herself from rolling her eyes. How many more hours did she have with this man? She wasn't sure except for the fact that it was far too many.
She unrolled the parchment as Professor Beale sat on his desk at head of class. Her eyes moved through the desks lined up against the walls, leaving the center of the room open. Perhaps for lecture? She wasn't entirely sure. Beale didn't strike her as the lecture type. Too disorganized for that, judging by the way he dressed and behaved.
"Ader, Richard." A young man toward the back of the room raised his hand. She nodded in response.
The wonderful thing about being Drageni was that she would always remember a name and face. Part of adaption was memorization for her kind. In only days, she'd pick up every student's name, age, mannerism, definitive trait . . . For some reason, she found that amusing.
She continued down the list, naming and remembering names with faces. One name stood out among them for her. Draco Malfoy. She found his name humorous, considering what she was. Not only that, it was a very strange name to her. After all, Tyla was raised muggle in America. People had peculiar names back home from time to time, but nothing as off the wall as "Draco."
The boy seemed pretty angry when she laughed through part of his name. Tyla tried her best to swallow the chuckle rising in her throat, to no avail.
"Potter, Harry." She said, looking up to see the young boy with the rounded glasses.
He was watching her expectantly, like he expected more. She raised her brows slightly, then continued down the list to the last two students.
Harry had filled with dread as the woman read down the list. Every new teacher knew exactly who Harry Potter was and made note of in class. When she reached his name, he knew any moment she'd have a shocked look on her face. He braced himself for her reaction.
And felt a prick of disappointment as she passed his name by as though he were just another student. Logically, that should have pleased him to have no special treatment. Maybe it wasn't disappointment so much as surprise. Even Professor Beale sat up straighter as she said his name. Madam Tyla didn't seem phased.
Of course, this pleased Malfoy, who gave Harry his classic smirk. Harry simply rolled his eyes, focusing his attention to the front of the class. All in all, Harry made out better. At least HE didn't have his name laughed at.
"That's everyone." Madam Tyla said to the professor, who shrugged
"What's this, ten people on Monday's? Small class. That's good." The tall man stood from his desk, "So, this is the NEWT level class? Interesting." He gave them all the eye, "NEWTs . . . Yes, this class will be pretty hard, then. I hope you all are ready to put in some effort." Beale rubbed his fingers together vigorously.
Something told Harry that this man had no clue what he was doing. Perhaps, the supply of teachers had run out for Hogwarts, and Beale was all they could get. However, a rock would have a better chance of successfully instructing DADA.
"I'm Professor Beale." He gestured to the board with his wand and his name appeared, "And this is . . . um . . . Tina Knight."
"That's Tyla." The woman said with a slight hiss in her voice.
"I know, that's what I just said." Beale sighed then rolled his eyes, "I swear, girl, you're just a little slow."
Harry thought that poor Professor Beale was about to die. Madam Knight's fingers twitched then clenched as she gave a glare of death. Beale seemed happily oblivious.
"So, it's the first day. I suppose I should take roll, shouldn't I?" He said as though it were genius while reaching for the parchment.
Madam Knight's eyes narrowed at the professor, "We did that already . . . sir." She said curtly
"Don't get your knickers in a bunch. Really, girl, how do you ever expect to be a real professor and not just a substitute?"
Suddenly, Harry had the desire to hex Professor Beale. Judging by the looks on the faces of his non-Slytherin classmates, he wasn't alone.
Madam Knight chuckled, but it sounded more like a snarl, as she took a seat at the nearest desk. She moved her hands behind her and allowed her violet robes to hang behind the desk, exposing leather-clad legs, which she crossed, shaking the top on back and forth.
"Sorry, sir. Why don't you just go ahead, and I'll be quiet so that I can learn from your wisdom?" she said with a hint of sarcasm that was no doubt lost on Beale.
Professor Beale smoothed his hands down his shining green robes as he picked up the parchment with his list of students.
"Right then, I'll get to it as you suggest, Madam Knight." He unrolled the parchment, "Ader, Richard!"
By the time class neared its ended, Tyla wasn't sure she could reign her temper much longer. Professor Beale repeated the roll three more times then gave the students six scrolls of notes, promising for action the next day. Yeah, right. Advanced DADA didn't have another session until Thursday. The rest of the week, these students had class with the regular NEWT class.
She felt sorry for these students. They were getting the short end of the stick having such a. . . . a. . . . She didn't even have words for Beale's level of incompetence. It was about to be a long year for them. And hopefully, she'd never have to sit in with Beale again. Surely, she would hurt him next time.
"Alright, students, I'll see you tomorrow." Professor Beale said as he set his magazine, "Wicked Witches Weekly," which he hid in a text book, on the table. "Oh, yeah, um . . . do some homework. Write a three-scroll essay by next class. That sounds good."
The students tried to suppress their groans. As they gathered their things, and Professor Beale turned his back, Tyla shook her head, mouthing that they didn't have to worry about the homework. That rewarded her with brightly smiling faces as they headed from class.
"Er, Pooter? Harry Pooter, where are you?" the professor said from behind his book.
"That's Potter, sir." The raven-haired boy said as he looked up.
"That's what I just said." Beale countered exasperatedly, "Can people not hear around here? Honestly!"
Tyla's jaw clenched so tight that it probably looked like it was about to break from an outsider's perspective. Unable to take much more, she left the room while Harry moved closer to the professor–if he could be called that.
She could hear them talking as she moved down the hallway. As a rule, she tried her best not to eavesdrop. This time, however, it was particularly hard to ignore. Beale asked him something about having had a DADA club the year before. Her curiosity piqued at the question, but before she could concentrate on hearing further, Draco Malfoy approached her.
"Madam Knight," the boy hissed at her, threateningly, "I have no idea what you're getting at, but you'd better start showing me some respect. Do you know how I am?"
She nodded blankly to Malfoy as pieces of Beale's conversation leaked through the blonde boy's words. Her stomach tensed suddenly as the feel of rising magic filled the air. She kept up her blank responses as the other conversation turned darker. The Potter kid sounded nervous, and she couldn't blame him.
"Are you listening, you American–" Malfoy growled
"Yes . . . " she said, turning her attention down the hall.
In the distance, she heard Harry moving through the classroom. Both heartbeats of the males sped up. She smelled fear on the air. Licking her lips, her breath kicked up but shallowed. She hunched over as though ready to attack.
"Expelliarmus." Beale laughed darkly at the boy; Tyla frowned, ready to run.
Her breath froze as Beale hissed something unthinkable.
"Crucio!"
Without hesitation, Tyla ran down the hall, pulling her wand from her robes. By the time she'd reached the midpoint, she heard Harry Potter's screams fill the hallway. She could taste his fear and anger on the air as she reached the room.
"Expelliarmus!" she yelled, pointing her wand at Beale.
The wizard's wand flew into the air. He looked at her briefly with hate-filled eyes. They were no longer the eyes of a bumbling professor. They were the eyes of a possessed man, glowing red.
"Stupify." She followed with, stunning the teacher until he fell to the ground.
She moved quickly to Harry, who now looked sweaty and pale thanks to the Unforgivable Curse performed on him. Tyla almost feared moving the boy because of the torturous pain that recently flowed through him. However, she didn't have much time to act. She began scooping him into her arms.
"Accio wand!" Beale said behind her.
No! She figured she'd have more time than that. Partially dropping Potter, she turned to stun Beale again, but Beale was faster. He used a Blaster charm to send her flying backward into a wall. With a growl, she landed to the ground, the air blown out of her for the moment.
Beale sealed the door with a spell, then laughed at the pair who could no longer move. He repeated his earlier spell on Harry. The boy writhe around on the floor, screaming. That snapped Tyla out of her daze enough to move. That only served to catch Beale's attention.
"Diffindo!" he yelled at her, slicing into her skin at the cheek, then did the same for Harry, "Petrificus totalus"
Tyla couldn't move her body thanks to the spell. That wouldn't do. She summoned all the natural magic within her to fight off the spell.
Beale grabbed Harry by the collar, dragging him across the classroom floor until he reached Tyla.
"My master will pay me handsomely for this. The thorn in his side, and another dragon pet. I'm about to be very lucky."
Tyla couldn't see, but she heard Harry twisting his aching body enough to kick Beale hard. The man stumbled backward, falling to the ground, losing his wand. Harry took the opportunity to blast Beale further back. The man hissed one final time before vanishing.
Harry gasped. It was impossible for someone to apparate or disapparate in Hogwarts, so where did he go? He looked around, wand ready to defend himself and the teacher who came to save him. There was movement behind him. Harry turned to see Madam Knight free herself from the spell without its counter spell.
"He's still here." She gasped as though relearning to breathe, "I smell him."
Harry stiffened. Perhaps that Drageni thing wasn't far off. Right now, it didn't matter. All that mattered was–
He heard a buzzing behind him. Frowning, he looked around the room, spotting nothing.
"Accio wand!" Beale said above him, on the ceiling
Before Harry could stop the man, he was blasted into the wall closest to Madam Knight, then landing on top of her hard.
"Next time, I suppose." Beale said wistfully, "Accio broom." His broom stick whizzed to him, "You'll both belong to the Master soon enough." He climbed on his broom and made his way through the open window.
The boy landing on her definitely bruised her, but at least they were both alive. If he wasn't hurt, she would have gone after Beale, but right now, she felt obligated to take care of him until someone arrived. Where WAS everyone, anyway? Someone should have made their way through the spell blocking the door by now . . .
"Harry . . . " she whispered as she rolled him off of her, "Can you hear me?"
He murmured something low that she couldn't hear. She crawled above him to listen better.
"You'll be alright." She said to him gently but with anger in the back of her voice.
The wound on his face was very deep as she was sure hers was. The pain didn't bother her, but she knew that the wizard child's face was on fire. Her eyes became lazy, focused, as her mouth moved closer to the pool of blood. With her tongue, she cleaned the wound. The saliva had numbing and cleaning properties, just like most of the females of her species. When she moved back, a drop or two of her blood dripped to his lips, though she did not realize. She was too focused on the taste of fresh blood rolling on her tongue. It was an uncommon treat which she decided to savor.
In the haziness of near unconsciousness, Harry felt something warm and wet fall on his mouth. Without thinking, he licked his lips. It was an oddly metallic taste, salty but sweet. The flavor of it stayed with him like a treasured treat. It warmed through him, causing a smile to spread on his lips.
His eyes fluttered open. Madam Knight's eyes watched him with a snake's fascination. His own eyes drooped lazily at her. Why did he feel so good all of a sudden? It reminded him of being wrapped completely in caring arms or a thick blanket on a cold day.
But that pleasure bled away to pain. Suddenly his chest felt tight as though he couldn't breathe, and his skin burned. His eyes widened with shock. Madam Knight's eyes mimicked his. And despite that, he watched her closely, like he wanted to see down to the very depth of her.
Her eyes became drowning pools of black with pinpoints of lights scattered across them.
...His eyes became drowning pools of emerald, swirling, calling someone into his soul.
Her body began to glow faintly. That glowing reached to him, grabbing at his spirit.
...His body began to glow faintly. That glow wrapped around her, pulling her spirit closer.
He screamed as pain clutched him while whatever lived within her rushed through him.
...She screamed as pain clutched her while whatever lived within him pulled at her yet resisted her.
He felt fused with her, and she felt fused with him. Neither could move, just watched the other with growing fear and confusion. Others were almost through the door, calling for them, but neither spoke. Something happened, and whatever it was, it was dangerous.
Exhaustion crept up to him. Whatever happened wiped him of everything he had. Gasping, he closed his eyes and allowed darkness to encompass him.
Tyla roared as the dragon within felt trapped suddenly. For the first time, she felt the confines of skin. He'd done something to capture her. Her first response was to kill him for it, but she didn't. Instead she clawed at his chest as he slept. Watching the blood well made her shiver. She had to mark him. Why?
Exhaustion took its toll on her finally. Unable to move, she collapsed on little Harry Potter. Her ear pressed against his chest allowing her to truly hear his heartbeat. The sound was soothing, lulling her to join him in sleep.
As sleep wrapped around her, and as the steady rhythm of Harry's heart pushed her closer to unconsciousness, she heard the door shatter. People called out to her, but she couldn't answer so close to peaceful blackness. The last thing she remembered before finally submitting to sleep was thinking about how screwed up everything just became. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why.
A/N2: Okay, in case you're worried, this is not about to turn into a romantic situation. What I have in mind is a little more interesting (at least in my opinion).
Hah, I feel kind of bad. Andrew Beale is supposed to be based on my fiancee. No worries, he's not that crazy (well, not in a bad way. He's crazy in a good way.
Oh, I wasn't sure about the Diffindo spell being used to cut people and not just objects. If not, my apologies!
Anyway, I'll try to update fairly soon. Review if you wanna. I like those a lot...If anyone ever gets a chance to read this, lol.