Title: Harry Potter and the Ancient God King
Author: Nopporn Wongrassamee aka The Evil Author
Summary: The new DADA teacher is something else. Harry and the gang want to know what.
Disclaimer: The characters and settings belong to whoever owns them. I'm just too lazy to look up who they are.
Part 8 – Impromptu Lesson
Because of the near blinding pain of his scar, everything seemed to slow down.
The creatures' scimitars flashed toward the Death Eaters. The Death Eaters in turn pointed their wands and shouted curses. And Harry seemed to be moving the slowest of all.
Something struck Harry from behind. He suddenly found himself flat on the ground watching curses fly through the space he had been occupying. Professor Burkle still stood next to Harry, completely unconcerned with the hexes flying to and fro. She was watching the battle with what might be called mild interest.
There was a bang, and ropes sprouted out of the ground and wrapped themselves around Professor Burkle's arms. With an annoyed shrug, she tore the ropes effortlessly and tossed them aside.
"Harry Potter," she said, crouching down next to Harry. Professor Burkle made no effort at sounding friendly. "What is your analysis of this situation?"
"Flee, mudblood," a voice not Harry's own said with his mouth, "or face the wrath of Vol..."
"I was speaking with Harry Potter, not you," Professor Burkle growled in annoyance. She rapped Harry on the top of his head with her new wand, hard. "Begone."
Instantly, Harry's scar stopped burning. But he was still in pain. He was pretty sure Professor Burkle had left a good-sized lump on his noggin. But Harry could think clearly again.
"Er, thanks Professor," Harry said. He rubbed his head. "Ouch! I think."
"Answer me question, Harry," Professor Burkle commanded. She gestured with her wand, indicating the chaos around them. "What is your analysis?"
"Analysis?" Harry asked dumbly. Most of the combatants were down now, knocked out or worse. There were also several body parts lying around that Harry preferred not to think about. The survivors had backed off from each other, watching each other warily.
Professor muttered something under her breath about slow-witted mortals.
More apparition cracks echoing around them signaled the arrival of more Death Eaters. Behind the tentacle-faced creatures, a column of fire sprang up out of the ground from which stepped more of their kind clad in full armor.
"Um, looks like they've both called reinforcements," Harry said.
"Ah, stating the obvious," Professor Burkle said. The Death Eaters and the creatures went at each other again. "It is an adequate start. What else?"
"Professor, shouldn't we get out of here?" Harry asked, alarmed at the growing violence.
"Why?" Professor Burkle pressed. "What are the pros and cons of withdrawing?"
Harry stared at the teacher in disbelief. "What is this? A DADA lesson?"
"Of course," Professor Burkle replied. "It is the service your Headmaster bargained for."
"So... so all this is just another of your illusions?"
One of the tentacle-faced creatures was thrown by a spell into a nearby wall, hitting with a squishing noise. Something wet and slimy splattered Harry on the cheek. The creature got up again and charged back into battle.
"It is very real, Harry," Professor Burkle said. She tilted her head. "Enough. Now what are the pros and cons of withdrawing our presence?"
"Well, our lives would be in less danger," Harry said, mindful of a hex that hit the ground not two feet from his head.
Professor Burkle just stared at him.
"That's a pro," he added.
"If you say so," she said doubtfully. "What else?"
Harry racked his mind, trying to remember what Professor Burkle had lectured in class. "Going away... would deprive the Death Eaters and... whatever those things are..."
"Illithids," Professor Burkle supplied.
"Right, Insipids," Harry said. "Going away would deprive them of... whatever they wanted. Us." He paused. "That's a pro."
"Better," Professor Burkle said grudgingly. "What are the cons of withdrawing?"
"Um..." Harry looked around at the chaos. "Can't think of any. Sorry."
"Pitiful," Professor Burkle said in disgust. "I see we have much work to do." She pointed to the battling Death Eaters and... In-tepids Harry thought she called them. "Those are our enemies. They are slaughtering each other. Why?"
Harry blinked. Then he realized that the question wasn't rhetorical. Professor Burkle wanted an answer back.
"Uh, because they bumped into each other?"
Professor Burkle return stare was icy to say the least.
"Well, the Inkspuds are here for you," Harry said slowly. "The Death Eaters are here for me. We're with each other more or less." He racked his brain some more. "Are they afraid that if they back off, the other side will make off with us?"
"Very good," Professor Burkle said. "Now, what would happen if we left with neither party but under our own power?"
"Well, presumably, they'd stop killing each other," Harry replied.
"Now you know what the con is," Professor Burkle said.
"That's a con?"
"Having one's enemies slaughter each other with no effort on your part would be to your benefit," Profesor Burkle explained. "Having them stop is not."
"What about your enemies?"
"They are sufficiently numerous that the loss of these peons is of little import to them."
Harry would have reeled at the idea, but he was already on the ground.
A Death Eater seemed to decide that continuing the battle was a losing proposition. He turned and launched himself at Harry and Professor Burkle. As he raised his wand at them, Professor Burkle lashed out with her free hand and grabbed his wand hand. There was sickening crunch and a scream, and suddenly the Death Eater was thrown away from them. Moments later, a crossbow bolt launched by an Ickyspit sailed through the space the Death Eater had been occupying, hitting the ground just between Harry's legs.
"Another pro to leaving," Harry said quickly, scrambling back. "If we don't, we could get killed by the crossfire!"
"Ah, now you are reasoning properly." Professor Burkle followed as Harry backed away from the fighting. "Do you have a destination in mind?"
"Actually, yeah," Harry said. "I know a place. This way." Turning, he ran.
It wasn't a long distance. When he reached the right shop, Harry turned around to make sure no one had followed them. No one had, but neither had Professor Burkle. He had mixed feelings about that. Should he go back for her? She had seemed able to take care of herself.
He turned back to face the shop, and came face to face with Professor Burkle.
"GAH!" he shouted, startled.
"Are you damaged?"
"Only my pride," Harry grumbled, calming down. He looked back the way he had come. "I'm surprised none of those guys followed us."
"I have... slowed them down," Professor Burkle told him. She looked at the shop. "What is this place?"
"It's a joke shop," Harry answered. He fished a key out of his pocket and unlocked the front door. "Welcome to Weasely's Wizarding Wheezes."