Disclaimer: Kindly note the name of the website. Thank you. Now, all I own here is Aweina, the phrase "Dumbledore's Army, Doofus Amigos," and the plot. Oh yeah, also Aweina's friends and Persephone!
As a sidenote, Blaise is…not really evil here. I don't know why, but I like Blaise better when he's sort-of-good. He's the good-ish Slytherin, in my opinion, if anyone was wondering why he seems to be halfway decent.
Muse responsible: Rrissa!
Aweina's thoughts and "-0o0-" will denote the beginning and end of a dream or flashback.
Aweina acted crabby and bad-tempered the next few days, glowering and muttering under her breath whenever Severus happened to cross her path. He held up his part as well, glaring at her coldly and taking different routes whenever possible. As Monday rolled around, she found herself on the receiving end of murderous glares from the Slytherins, a side effect she hadn't considered until now…
She kept one eye on Draco Malfoy as she scribbled on the board. Already she was thanking Merlin for the training and little tricks Alastor had given and played on her-they kept her on her toes, when things were serious. As they were now.
Each time Aweina entered her office, she had to carefully unhex her doorknob, since Slytherins took every opportunity to jinx it. She had not sat down in her chair today, because there was a rather nasty curse on the seat she hadn't had the chance to remove yet. Aweina kept the chalk with her at all times, and had removed her quill and ink from her desk.
Even now, the Slytherins were giving her ugly looks-though they were getting their own share of looks from the Gryffindors. Aweina had been slightly amused to hear that the Ravenclaws were praising her loudly whenever Slytherins walked by, which apparently set the other house even more on edge.
Apparently the inter-House rivalries haven't died, she thought, wryly, as she finished writing down the precise definition of a Blocking Spell-occasionally used by cheating Quidditch players on their goal posts, but primarily used to block objects from hitting the wizard in question, quite a handy little spell for the ones stoned out of their villages in the Middle Ages.
He's going to try something, thought Aweina instantly as she turned, keeping an eye on Draco as the look on his face changed slightly. I'll just guard for it, then…
"Ah…Parkinson, Brown, forward please," she said, letting her other eye roll over the students. "Brown, kindly perform for us a Blocking Spell. Parkinson, throw a cushion at her."
The Slytherin girl picked up a cushion and flung it at Lavender as the Gryffindor recited the incantation. As it should, the cushion flopped harmlessly to the ground a foot away from Lavender. "Back to your seats," ordered Aweina, "Zabini, explain why this is not always a practical spell."
"Because it does not block most magical attacks," said Blaise, promptly. "It's useful when Muggles are throwing things at you, but not when a wizard is firing spells."
"Good," said Aweina, turning back to the board, "Now, the official definition -"
Somehow, Aweina's attention had slipped from Draco Malfoy, and he took that opportunity to strike. "Accio scarf!" he shouted-
And Aweina's scarf was yanked away from her eyes. She stiffened in shock and whirled reflexively, groping for her wand and dropping the chalk-
The room went dead silent, broken only by the sound of the chalk as it rolled away and the soft flumph Aweina's Ravenclaw-blue scarf made when it fell to Draco's desk.
Aweina rolled both of her eyes forward, half-reached up to her face, but folded her arms just in time, to maintain an illusion of control.
She was well aware of how she looked-red, ugly scars around her eyes, legacy of the Lashing Curse, looking barely-healed at best, her eyes large, bulging, and rotating slowly-though Aweina tried to keep them forward-and only tattered remains of eyelids. "Well?" she said, her voice somehow steady, "Are you happy now, Mr. Malfoy?"
The Slytherin didn't answer, eyes locked on hers, expression blank with shock. Aweina took a step forward, then another. Draco shifted back slightly in his chair as Aweina reached his desk, placed her hands on it, and leaned forward, looking directly into his eyes, face barely three inches from his own.
"You've had your revenge. You've seen what you've wished to see," said Aweina, just barely keeping from snarling the words, "I hope you are content. You are lucky. If I had had my wand in my hand, I might have reacted from reflex-and I am a fully-trained, battle-seasoned Auror. You are extremely lucky all I was holding was chalk."
Picking up her scarf, Aweina tied it over her eyes with practiced ease, snugging the knot at the back of her head. "A roll and a half of parchment on the chapter we are on," she said, turning away and walking up to her desk. Leaning on it, she turned her face to every person in the classroom, one by one. "Due Thursday. Malfoy, fifteen points from Slytherin for pranking a teacher and detention with Filch on Wednesday at eight. Class dismissed."
The class slowly filed out of the room, quiet as they packed, shooting looks at Aweina as she waited for them to leave. As the last student left, Aweina waved her wand at the classroom door. It slammed shut with a bang that echoed down the halls-she saw several students jump outside-but took no satisfaction in it.
Removing the curses on her desk and chair took a scant few minutes, and Aweina locked and warded the classroom door, thankful that the sixth years were her last class of the day. Turning, she stalked into her office, warding and locking that door as well-making it clear she did not want to be disturbed.
Secure in her rooms at last, Aweina dropped into her chair, energy running out of her like blood from an open wound. She seethed with fury at Malfoy, but tangled into the miasma were shame and sorrow as well. Aweina dropped her head into her hands and let her eyes roll around slowly, ignoring what she saw.
She stayed that way for a long time, half-wanting to cry, half-wanting to find Malfoy and murder him slowly-well, perhaps not murder, just severely injure-and being slightly thankful that the curses had destroyed her tear ducts.
Like it or not, Aweina could not shed tears anymore, even if she had wanted to.
There was a timid knock on her office door. Aweina focused through it and saw Potter, of all people. Why is he here-oh, yes, I asked him to speak to me before class, didn't I, she thought. Picking up her wand from where it lay on the desk, she unlocked the door from where she sat. "Enter."
Aweina was proud that her voice was absolutely steady, no hint of the anger beneath. Harry Potter came into the room slowly, almost fearfully. "Get on with it, you know I don't bite," Aweina snapped, and Harry jumped.
It did the trick, though-he closed the door and sat down in the chair opposite Aweina. "You wished to speak with me, Professor?" he said, very, very politely.
"Alastor thinks I should give you private dueling lessons. Moreover, I agree, and Dumbledore agrees," said Aweina, without preamble-she wasn't in the mood. "When are you free?"
"Well…I've got the rest of the Defense hour free at the moment," said Harry, glancing at Aweina nervously, "Then I have an hour after school officially ends, then Quidditch practice till dinner. I can also come…tomorrow, from four to five."
"Tomorrow it is," said Aweina, "I'm not in the mood today, and it would affect my teaching."
Harry was looking at her with an odd expression on his face-something close to pity, Aweina realized. If anything, that made her even more irritable, the last vestiges of sadness flooded in a tide of anger. "I don't need your pity, Potter," she said, rising sharply and tucking her wand into her robes, "I got plenty of it after I lost my sight. I got it my first training session with Alastor-and I believe that was the only time I truly deserved it. I've had pity on numerous other occasions, when people look at me, see only the scarf, and think only of the loss of my eyes."
She reached up and brushed the scarf with her fingertips, unconsciously. "I chose to be an Auror, boy, and I accepted-still do accept-everything that comes with it. The responsibilities, the risk-all of it is just part of my life. There is no room for pity there." Aweina nearly snarled the last words, but kept her voice on the edge of calm.
Harry opened his mouth as if to say something, closed it when Aweina turned to face him, but opened it again. "I'm sorry," he said, "It sounds stupid, but…"
"Go away, Potter," said Aweina, dropping into her desk chair, "Just…go away. Tomorrow, four-thirty, my classroom. Check the door for hexes first-the Slytherins don't seem to like me anymore."
Harry left the room quickly, and Aweina let her face fall into her hands again.
How am I going to be able to teach them? Any of them? I won't be able to look at Malfoy without thinking of that, and the rumors will be flying-are flying, if I know anything about students…
She didn't know how long she sat there, but her door opened again. Aweina rolled an eye up, and saw Professor Dumbledore standing there. "May I?" he said, lightly.
Aweina waved a hand vaguely; Albus interpreted it as 'sit down' and took the chair in front of her desk, closing the door with a wave of his wand. "I heard," he said, leaning back.
Aweina briefly wondered what Albus didn't hear about, at least at Hogwarts. "I gave Malfoy the standard detention for pranking a teacher," she said, glad her voice was steady. Then again, perhaps it wasn't so surprising-she had lived through far worse than this, battles, Alastor's training, and far too many funerals.
"As you should have," said Albus. "Will you look at me? It's disconcerting to talk to the top of your head."
"Disconcerting," my arse, thought Aweina, I've never seen him disconcerted in the slightest. This wasn't exactly true, but Aweina ignored the evidence in her mind. Still…
Aweina made herself look at Alastor, or turned her face to him, at least. "And before you start, I've got both eyes on you," she said, rather more sharply than she'd intended. Dumbledore nodded. "What precisely happened?" he said, gently.
Aweina drew a breath. "I was writing down the definition of a Blocking Spell when Malfoy used a Summoning Charm on my scarf," she said, voice flat, "I whirled around, almost went for my wand before I got my reflexes under control, and-well. The scarf landed on his desk."
"I don't think any of the students have ever seen the long-term affects of a Lashing Spell," said Dumbledore.
Aweina laughed cynically. "Bloody well right. They stared at me like…"
Her voice trailed off as she remembered the stark shock on the faces of most of the students, even terror on some of them. "I don't know how I'm going to be able to face them tomorrow."
"You will," said Albus, firmly, "It didn't hamper you before."
Possibly to Dumbledore's surprise, Aweina laughed again, this time even more cynically. "After I recovered, before I started using scarves, I was usually in the company of Aurors. They're no strangers to scars or wounds, or even magically replaced body parts-but it was because of the stares of the non-Aurors that I chose to start using these." Aweina reached up and touched her scarf lightly.
"Are you going to write to Alastor?"
Aweina paused. "Yes," she said, at last, "I suppose I need to. I wrote him about Severus's and my…quarrel, but this needs telling."
"And you're closer to him than you are me," said Dumbledore, "I see."
Aweina didn't move, but she was surprised-Albus had driven straight to the heart of the matter. "He gave me my eyes," she said, bluntly, "If I can't talk to him…who can I talk to?"
Even Albus didn't seem to have an answer to this. After another few minutes, he stood and left.
The next day at Hogwarts was about as awkward as any Aweina had ever had, and that included when she had inadvertently turned Professor Crowe (who had been the Defense teacher at the time) into a buffalo. Aweina still wasn't sure how she'd done that, but at least Professor Crowe had taken it in good humor, whereas she…
Well, the first years barely uttered a word and flinched whenever she called on them, the fourth years had whispered amongst themselves the entire lesson, and the sixth years…
They were the first Slytherins she'd had that day, the first-year class being made up of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws and the fourth-year class Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. The Slytherins openly eyed her up and down, their shock gone, whereas the Gryffindors tried not to look at her, but when they did, their expressions were pitying.
All in all, it was enough to make Aweina want to scream. Though it was rather petty of her, the Auror did take slight pleasure in making the chalk screech on the blackboard and watching them flinch as she wrote the date in the corner of the board.
"Today we will study offensive magic," said Aweina, turning to the class, "We have been looking at defensive magic for some time, but today we will focus on curses."
"Like the Conjunctivitis Curse?" said Pansy Parkinson, face innocent. The Slytherins snickered and the Gryffindors divided worried looks towards Aweina and glares at the Slytherins. Aweina took mental hold of herself. All right…so they're going to aim for jibes today, to see if they can break my control. I can't take points for a question, though…damn it.
Aweina answered smoothly, "The Conjunctivitis Curse is something you should have learned last year, Parkinson, but if you feel you must, we can go over it."
There. A small jibe back, thought Aweina with satisfaction as Pansy scowled. The Gryffindors looked rather startled, but Harry and Ron exchanged grins-quick ones, but Aweina's eye was on them at the moment-that their teacher was holding her own.
"There are of course the basic petrifying jinxes," said Aweina, turning back to the board and scrawling the names of a few, "These are aimed to prevent your opponent from return attack until you can launch a lengthier spell. However, some wizards can shatter these without use of their wands, and a few of us are mostly immune to at least the basic ones. All wizards can learn to block them, though, or dodge them, therefore nullifying them as effectively as resisting them or shattering them. Someone tell me the incantations for these on the board."
Hermione raised her hand immediately, as always, but Aweina pointed over her shoulder at Lavender Brown. "Name three."
The Gryffindor rattled off three, and Hermione got the rest. "All right-Longbottom, Malfoy, Patil, and Zabini, middle of the room."
The four students named obediently filed into the center. "Remember the shielding spell you learned a few days ago? Good. Now, I am going to be the Dark wizard. Your job is to block these petrifying spells, if you can. Last one up gets five points to their House. Block only."
The four spread out, in accordance with some of Aweina's earlier practical lessons-give your opponent multiple targets, and you're harder to hit. Aweina drew her wand and pointed it at Parvati.
The girl dodged, but Aweina had moved already to Zabini, who hadn't been quite ready. He just barely managed to block the spell and staggered as it clipped him. Aweina moved on to Neville, who blocked very competently, and Petrified Parvati.
The purpose of this exercise was simply to practice blocking, but Aweina kept an eye on Malfoy and dodged the Stunning spell he fired at her. "Five points from Slytherin," she said, crisply, "I said defend only." A split second after she finished, Aweina fired a Petrifying spell at Malfoy, who fell.
Neville and Blaise were the only two left, and they eyed each other, then Aweina warily. Aweina waited for a moment. If they team up and guard each other's backs, they'll have learned the lesson I've been trying to get to them…
After a moment, she attacked Neville, sending one of the more difficult curses to block at him. Neville squeaked and fumbled the shield as Aweina bore down on him-
And Blaise blocked it without thinking, obviously as surprised as everyone else in the classroom. As the spell went careening away and shattered a windowpane, which Aweina repaired with an absent wave of her wand, she smiled at them. "Very good!" she said, "You've gotten the lesson I've been trying to teach you."
Blaise and Neville looked rather confused. Aweina UnPetrified Parvati and Malfoy and went back to her desk. "You, Blaise, sprang to protect Neville without thinking," she explained, "I've been trying to instill teamwork in you, and this shows it's working. Congratulations, and ten points to both Houses."
The lesson continued with a few further jibes from some of the Slytherins, but Aweina's success kept her temper even and she ignored them easily.
The end of class came, and Harry stayed behind. "Ah, yes, I teach you now, don't I?" said Aweina.
Harry nodded as the rest of the class left and Aweina erased the board. "Wand out," she said, putting the chalk down, "I'm going to draw directly from Alastor's one-on-one training with me. You're going to be worked very hard, but I'll turn you into a competent dueler."
Harry nodded again, setting his bag down and drawing his wand. Aweina drew her own wand, running a hand absentmindedly over the smooth rowan, and turned towards Harry as she realized she had been looking at him through the back of her head. "First of all, do you know how to stand?" she said.
Harry moved into a stance. Aweina shook her head. "No-you need to stand braced, but in a movement where you can easily dodge. Actually, put your wand away-we're going to start with all kinds of dodging. Rolls, turning and running, diving, getting behind stuff-" she grinned as Harry groaned, tucking his wand inside his robes.
"Right. Now, set your feet like this-"
The next half-hour or so was intensive for both Aweina and Harry as they worked on various dodges. First Aweina taught him how to fall, slapping the ground and rolling away. She gained bruises from the stone floor as she showed Harry some things Alastor had taught her-throwing herself to the side, backwards, forwards, rolling different ways, and the various ways to dive behind things. Even at the best of times, Aweina got bruises from practice, and this was no exception.
After teaching Harry how to fall, dive, leap over and behind objects, and so on, Aweina set him in the middle of the room and fired basic spells at him-nothing extreme, simply a few simple enchantments that would turn his robes bright purple if he didn't dodge.
Aweina nodded approvingly as Harry dived behind her desk. Alastor had tried this with her, Wesley, and Lucy at the same time, and yet their robes had turned nearly solid yellow, even though Alastor had multiple targets.
Harry's robes had gained a few splotches of purple, but overall he was doing well as he dodged. "Don't be afraid to fall!" called Aweina, "Being afraid to hit the ground will only handicap you, and a minute of hesitation could cost you your life!"
When Harry was breathing hard, Aweina told him to draw his wand. Harry looked at Aweina in disbelief. She watched him until he drew, muttering. "Now we are going to duel," she said, "You on defense-run and dodge behind things, but feel free to toss a curse my way." Aweina smiled wolfishly.
Harry held his wand ready, and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"
Aweina dodged, flinging herself to the floor and rolling, and shot a Jelly-legs hex at him from under a desk. Rising sharply, she ducked behind another desk, firing a Stunning spell at him.
Harry blocked with "Protego!" and dived behind another desk.
Aweina pressed Harry, not using her full skill as an Auror, but drawing on her memories of her first days of training with Alastor-the one-on-one sessions, mostly. Even now, Alastor surpassed Aweina in dueling-she could hold her own against him for a long while, but eventually he always won.
Harry was skilled in dueling-perhaps not surprising-and he held his own rather well, getting hit only a few times. He never scored on Aweina, but then, Aweina was a battle-seasoned veteran and very skilled at dodging.
As the end of their hour approached, Harry shouted something Aweina had no notion he would be able to cast-"Leglimens!"
To her shock, Aweina was hit-
found her memories brought to the surface of her mind-
-0o0-
Their first day in training, running around the arena, over obstacle courses and diving behind things as Alastor fired light hexes-
Training on broomsticks-no, not training, a real battle as she brought her broom sharply up-
Running through Hogwarts in fifth year, racing her friend to the library-
The fragmented thoughts began to coalesce into whole memories-Another battle, the first Aweina had been brought into-Alastor bellowing orders alternated with spells as she went back-to-back with Lucy…
Another battle, on brooms, high above a Muggle city-Ministry members busy erasing memories of Muggles as Aurors swooped and glided above the city to keep the Dark wizards back…
Then the battle Aweina remembered best-she tried to wrench her mind away, but Occulmency wasn't her strong point-the Death Eater appeared in front of her, and she was aware of details she hadn't paid attention to before, Alastor shifting against her back and the descant of screams on the battlefield, as the Dark wizard rose his wand and shouted, "Oculsecui!"
There was blinding pain and her screams tore the air as the flesh was ripped from her face, the Lashing Curse whipping cruelly across her eyes-
And she was down and shrieking as the Death Eater fired the spell again, and again-she lost count in the pain, the burning agony across her face, and Alastor was above her, growling curses as she writhed in pain, trying to escape the torture-
-0o0-
Aweina came back to herself on her hands and knees, gasping and trembling as if she had just run six miles and fought a battle at the end of it. She shook as she knelt, breath coming in pants as her heart pounded against her ribs.
Just a memory, she tried to convince herself as she slowly dropped further, sat down, and leaned against the wall, wiping sweat from her forehead.
One of her eyes landed on Harry, whose face had gone white. He stumbled forward and dropped to his knees near Aweina. "Professor?" he stammered, obviously taken aback by Aweina's reaction.
Aweina realized her scarf was damp with sweat, and even though her breathing had steadied, she was still quivering like a leaf in a high wind. "I should have expected that, Potter," she said, "Well-maybe not expected it-but…you're bloody strong, you know that? I couldn't break free…"
She realized she was babbling and cut herself off, leaning her head against the wall and bringing her eyes so they no longer focused through her scarf, taking refuge in the darkness. "I-didn't realize-" stuttered Harry, "The pain-how-"
Aweina swiveled an eye to look at him. "I don't know how I survived the pain," she said, quietly, "You-you're the first person to see that memory. Ever. Alastor knows what I went through-he was there-but I've never told anyone else…"
Her voice trailed away. Harry bit his lip nervously. "I'm-I'm sorry," he said, voice still shaky, "I-I don't know why I used that spell, it just sprang to mind, and-"
"Remind me to tell you about the time I accidentally turned Professor Crowe into a buffalo," said Aweina, getting her breath under control by looking at the wall across from her.
Harry chuckled weakly. "Really?"
"I still don't know how it happened," replied Aweina, resting her head against the wall and scratching her temple underneath her scarf, where some of the sweat had dried and was starting to itch. "Anyway…I would appreciate it if you didn't do that again, Potter. I relive that battle in…in dreams, and I would prefer to forget it entirely."
Harry was quiet for a few moments, occasionally opening his mouth as if to say something, then closing it. Aweina kept an eye on him but left her head leaning against the wall. I remember Occulmency…if what he just did was correctly cast, he lived that memory with me…not good.
Sure enough, Harry occasionally half-raised his hand to his face, as if to check that his eyes were still there, faintly shuddering, even though he had been a mere bystander.
A few minutes later-was it only minutes?-Professor McGonagall burst into the classroom, followed closely by Madam Hooch and Professor Sprout. "We heard screaming in the staffroom-" said Minerva, looking around the classroom, wand out.
Aweina groaned, but stood up slowly, leaning against the wall. "I was helping Potter with defensive magic," she said, carefully, making sure her legs would hold her, "He shot a-a Leglimens spell-"
The three professors whipped their heads to Harry, who bit his lip and stared at the ground. "I-it hit me hard," said Aweina, licking her lips, "He-Potter somehow brought up the memory of…of…"
She raised her hand to her scarf and tapped lightly beside one of her eyes. "He's bloody strong, even if it wasn't what he'd meant to do, and I've never been good at Occulmency, and I couldn't break free-I relived…"
Aweina cut off her sentence and snatched her hand away from her scarf. Turning her face to the wall, she pressed her forehead against the stone, shuddering. "The pain-"
There was sudden sympathy on the faces of the other three professors. Aweina gathered herself and turned her face back towards them. For a moment she imagined what they must have heard-a long, frantic scream, echoing through the halls, possibly accompanied by a yell from Potter. Aweina turned her thoughts away from it deliberately.
"Well, if you're unhurt-" began Professor Sprout, awkwardly, but was cut off by the sound of running feet. The door was filled again, this time by two prefects, Professor Flitwick, and Severus Snape. "We heard screaming," they chorused-well, all of them but Severus, anyway-and tried to get into the room.
Aweina sighed, and retold the story, edited slightly-Potter had hit her with a spell, and she had suddenly relived a very painful battle. She finished just in time for more people to come into the corridor, breathing hard from the race up the stairs.
Aweina sighed again and looked around for her wand-Potter handed it to her-and began putting the desks and chairs back, as Professor McGonagall took over.
Well…yeah, there was another chapter of Aweina's story! Poor Aweina.
Anyway…review, please!
Fireblade K'Chona