His night had not been restful. He had tossed and turned, his mind trying to make sense of a nonsense situation. He had a small liking for Istelle, but he could understand why Ron would mistrust her. One thing he couldn't figure out was why he himself trusted her. And he did. He had no suspicions that Istelle might possibly have any sort of affiliation with her father. There was something about the way she spoke, and smiled, and walked ... something in the way she was that seemed to protest against her father and everything he represented.
Most of the time she held a mask of composure, seemed to generate an air of reserve. A defense constructed to assure everyone that she was happy and well-adjusted, and also to keep everyone at bay. When she was tired, as Harry had often seen her when she returned to the Headquarters from a mission, she seemed haunted.
He didn't know what could be eating her up inside, but a strange desire to find out budded in him. If he only knew what cast the shadows over her face he might be able to help her.
He choked back a derisive snort. How could he help her? He, who had is own damn problems with the past's influence on his mind. What was he supposed to do? Lay her down on a couch and scribble down notes as she poured out her heart and soul?
"Well?" Hermione's sharp inquiry cut into his thoughts, causing him to swivel around in his chair to face her.
"Well what?' He bit back, slightly perturbed by the sudden interruption in his thoughts, but softening the remark with a small smile only seconds afterwards.
"Did you finish reading the passage?" She asked again, staring pointedly at the unopened book before him. Harry glanced down at Ron's book, which lay flat on the desk before him, open to page 15. Flipping through his own book to page 15 he found bold ornate letters proclaiming that he had reached the second chapter of the book.
He raised his hand tentatively, trying to discreetly attract Istelle's attention. Istelle, who was sitting at her desk, her glance constantly scanning the room and the down turned heads of her students, picked him out within a few seconds. She soundlessly weaved her way through the gauntlet of desks to the one Harry was sharing with Hermione and Ron.
"Yes, Harry?" She inquired in a whisper, stopping beside him and bending down slightly.
"Professor Istelle, I was just wondering why we were starting on the second chapter?" Harry nodded down towards his book. Istelle gave him a half smile, clearly somewhat perplexed.
"Well, Harry I mentioned at the beginning of class that we were skipping the first chapter since it was just introduction rubbish. The second chapter jumps right into a detailed dissection of magical defense. I was made aware that most members of this class received some ... extracurricular help in this subject." She raised herself to her full height, smiling down at him with a single eyebrow arched.
Harry felt his cheeks warm slightly at her meaning, wondering who had informed Istelle about Dumbledore's Army. Smoothing out the wrinkles of the curve hugging fabric of her robes, she cast him one last breathtaking smile and moved away to prowl the room.
"Didn't you hear her say that the first time, Harry?" Hermione asked somewhat curiously, leaning down on to the table so that she could see Harry around Ron.
Harry found himself aware that he was staring at Istelle's retreating back, and pried his eyes away from her to look over at Hermione.
"No, I didn't." Harry said shortly, skimming through the book and picking out sentences here and there that seemed slightly interesting. It only took him a few seconds to realize that there was actually nothing interesting in the book, despite the foreboding cover work and dark illustrations.
Biting his lips to prevent himself from yelping, he shot his hand down to his ribs to rub the sore spot where Ron had elbowed him.
"Sorry mate, I didn't mean to jab you." Ron said, his ears burning red as Harry gave him a withering glare.
"Just keep your daggered elbows to yourself," Harry muttered, unable to keep himself from smiling at Ron's idiotic grin. "What? Have I got something on my face?"
"That sly move didn't make it passed my radar." Ron whispered conspiratorially, giving Harry an exaggerated wink. Harry scrunched his face up; confused by this remark, before it dawned in him that Ron had thought Harry had used a ploy to get Istelle to come over to them.
"Yeah, nothing gets by you." Hermione drawled sarcastically, letting Harry know oh so subtly that she was in the same frame of mind as Ron. Harry shook his head and flipped the pages of his book, hunting down interesting pictures and trying to ignore the knowing looks Ron and Hermione were giving each other.
Istelle did a final lap of the room before moving back to the center of the room and tapping on the dark green chalk board with her wand. "I'm assuming we've all finished with the assigned reading," she said loudly as she gave the board a firm tap to reveal neat print. "Can anyone give me the Ministry of Magic's Definition of 'defense'?"
Hermione's arms shot up, but surprisingly so did many others' in the classroom.
"Mr. Weasley? Care to inform us?"
Ron gave a shocked look, and then quickly regained himself, snapping his mouth shut and trying to quickly search the pages without Istelle noticing. "Ah ... well, the Ministry's exact opinion on that was hazy, but what I gathered was that the term is as the act of ... ah, defending yourself?" He finished lamely, wincing slightly as Istelle gave him a rather stern look.
She moved onto another student, to provide Ron with the very exact definition located on page 18. Ron leaned back in his chair and exhaled loudly, wiping the back of his hand over his forehead. Harry stifled a snigger as they spent the rest of the class covering all that had been read. This was excellent for Harry, as he had not read any of it and was able to take notes on the parts they were focusing on.
"As for homework-" Istelle began, but paused midsentence as a chorus of groans rose up. "Oh yes, I apologize. It's so dreadful of me to assign work on the very first day of school. However will I bring myself to do it? Page 21, review of chapter two. There's no need to define the terms, as we did this together in class. But if you would so kindly answer questions one through five to the best of your ability it would be greatly appreciated." Students laughed and smiled as Istelle's wand made another clicking sound against the chalkboard and all of the words disappeared to be replaced by directions.
Allowing them time to chat in the last few minutes of class, Istelle seated herself behind her desk and began shuffling papers around. Harry was suddenly aware again that he had been staring at Istelle and immediately placed all of his effort into studying the fraying seams of his bag. He'd need a new one soon. Should have picked one up in Diagon Alley, but it hadn't occurred to him. He could probably find one in Hogsmeade on the next weekend. If there would even be any future Hogsmeade trips.
Harry glanced over to find Hermione was scribbling down the assignment into a small journal. And to his utter shock, as was Ron. Ron was less thorough than Hermione, who was copying word for word, but still. There it was, a small leather bound journal, the date at the top of the page, and a small inspirational message adorning the corner.
"'The reward for a task completed properly now is the gratification of a job well done later.'?" Harry read aloud, his eyebrows rising in question at Ron, who turned several shades of pink.
"Shut up," he mumbled as he snapped the journal closed, only to have a slender and well manicured hand pull it from his grasp.
"This must be useful, Mr. Weasely." Istelle said, flipping through the mostly blank pages to find where Ron had scribbled today's homework. "Your influence, Miss Granger, I presume? You might want to make sure to specify that you are to do question one through five, to avoid confusion." Istelle placed it back in front of him, as he quickly gathered it and the rest of his supplies and shoved them unceremoniously into his bag.
"Professor Istelle, how long will we be doing bookwork?" Seamus, who was seated with Dean at the table in front of Harry, Hermione and Ron, turned around in his chair to ask.
"While I'm sure many in this group don't require much review, and were much rather prefer to jump right into learning defensive spells and tactics without preamble, I'm afraid we are looking at using these books for at least another week or so."
"But why? We already know most of this, what's the point of going over it again?" Lavendar called out from her place between Neville and Parvati across the room. Istelle moved away, to stand in the center of the room, turning slightly to look at all of the students. It wasn't an intense scrutiny, but it seemed like it was the first time Istelle had taken a very good look at the students.
"We're missing some students, are we not? Yes, Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle. Well, it's a shame they've decided to deprive our class of their presence." She sighed and then moved to the front of the classroom, facing the students. "Do all of your teachers take such insolence? Allow you to question their teaching methods with such audacity?" There was no edge to her voice, and her warm smile further confirmed she wasn't being serious.
"All but Snape." Harry said without thinking, causing most of the Gryffindors, and even a few Slytherins, to laugh openly.
"Oh, now there's a man I wouldn't question on any aspect." Istelle replied, making a face of mock fear. "Well, the reason we are reviewing that which you already know is to further cement the information in your mind and give those who don't already have the knowledge the opportunity to gain it. It's just leveling the field, making sure when we get into the complicated things we all start from the same base and are all prepared for what is to come. Now, unless we have any further questions-"
"Why are we allowed to call you Professor Istelle, but we're docked points if we even think Professor McGonagall's first name?" Dean called out, being purposefully obtuse and using Istelle's words as a means to open conversation rather than close the one present as they were intended.
"Well, it's a respect issue, Mr. Finnigan. Professor McGonagall is a woman that commands, and deserves, vast amounts of respect. Though I assure you I merit courtesy and appreciation as well, I am simply more comfortable with my first name. It's a very nice name, if I do say so myself." She nodded to another student as their hand shot up into the air, her smile growing wider. She did seem to smile a lot, but it didn't come off as a weird sort of nervous tic. It sat well with her, she was comfortable smiling, and her smiles were genuine and beautiful and lit up her face. She had smiled twenty-seven times in this class alone.
Sweet mother of pearl! Harry had been counting her smiles? He didn't remember making a conscious decision to count them, didn't even know when he might have started counting. But he was sure, as sure as he was that he was a wizard named Harry Potter attending a magical school that trained young witches and wizards, that she had smiled twenty-seven times.
"What is your last name?" Ron called out after Istelle had answered Parvati's question about the natural color of her hair. Istelle suddenly froze, the air in the room seeming to freeze with her. The moment passed and Harry believed he had only imagined the genuine dislike he had seen cross Istelle's face.
"Why do you inquire, Mr. Weasely? Your actions had given me the impression you were well aware of my last name."
"Well, maybe the rest of the class would like to know." Ron stated, ignoring the incredulous look Harry was giving him and the seething glare Hermione was directing right at him.
"Why would they? I'd say it's pretty inconsequential; after all, a name is just a name. You read Shakespeare? That was one of the themes in Romeo & Juliet, not one of his best works or a personal favorite of mine, but still an excellent piece of literature. Perchance you've read Juliet's soliloquy in which she is on her balcony and Romeo is below in the orchard and she ponders just how little weight a name really holds and theorizes that a name does not make a person. One of her more famous lines is 'a rose by any other name is still a rose'." Istelle had moved from the front of the room to stand behind the chair placed in front of her desk. Her voice was calm and even, but her hands were gripping the chair so tightly her knuckles had gone white and betrayed her anger. "Perhaps you just think upon that Mr. Weasely, and maybe we'll have a little discussion about it when you are serving detention with me this Saturday."
The hush in the room as Istelle seated herself at her desk was broken suddenly by the sound of a loud crash and several Slytherins bursting into laughter. Neville was spread out on the floor, the back legs of his chair missing and the burly Slytherin boys behind him barely able to contain their glee. Istelle jumped from her desk and rushed over to Neville, immediately noting that he was conscious but had a large lump on the back of his head. She conjured up a stretcher and raised him onto it, rushing from the room, but not before warning them all to keep reasonably quite until the bell rang.
Lavendar, who had been seated next to him, tried to sit his chair up right, only to have the Slytherins to burst into another round of mindless guffawing as it clattered back to the floor. Slightly miffed, Hermione stood up and with a flick her wand made the back legs reappear, casting the troublemakers who had been behind Neville a dark glare.
Before any harsh words could be exchanged, the bell let out its shrill cry and the students trickled out into the hall. The Gryffindors muttering curse words under their breath, and the Slytherins relishing in the nasty prank their own had pulled off.