Defence Against the Dark Arts
Harry Potter woke early the next morning, his head still buzzing with information. He had sent a message to Kingsley from the Hogwarts Express, and Kingsley had replied with a Patronus thanking him, and letting him know they had apprehended three of the attackers and were now questioning them before a trial. The remainder of the train journey had been uneventful until, as Harry had suspected, the students got off the train and could at last see what had been burned into the side of the carriages. Cue numerous questions from the entire student body, uncomfortable stares, and frustration as once again, Harry Potter left them without answers. The stares and the whispering continued throughout the sorting and the opening feast and were broken only by the announcement of the Cedric Diggory Quidditch cup, in which Hogwarts would play a match against Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. The slimmed down student body babbled with excitement about the upcoming tournament, already murmuring about try-outs and formations. As much as Harry relished the thought of playing Quidditch for Hogwarts, he was too distracted by the events of the previous day to focus properly on school life. Someone did not want him at Hogwarts, but the burning question in Harry's mind, as always, was why?
More troubling was the fact that Harry was now out of the loop. He had defeated the attackers, he had alerted the Ministry, and then… nothing. Kingsley had thanked him, Professor McGonagall had fussed about the students being in harms way, and the entire thing had been handed over to the Aurors with any new information not being shared with Harry. He wasn't being included in the investigation, he wasn't questioned, and he got the feeling that asking any questions of his own would not be welcomed despite the attackers' message clearly being directed at him. He had voiced this concern with Ginny, but she had told him Kingsley probably wanted him to relax and focus on school. This didn't do much to ease Harry's frustration, but there wasn't much to be done now except do exactly as Ginny had said and focus on school. Harry was buoyed slightly when he noticed that his entire morning would be taken up with Defence Against the Dark Arts. He had not seen a new teacher at the table during the feast the night before, nor had he heard any mention of a new teacher from students or staff. He imagined Professor McGonagall would have picked someone from the Order of the Phoenix, or perhaps an Auror who'd decided to retire after the Battle of Hogwarts.
Comforted by the idea of spending a morning hacking down dummies or duelling some form of dark creature, Harry dressed quickly and gathered his books into his rucksack ready for the day. He waited in the Common Room for Ginny to surface, and the pair headed down for breakfast arm in arm. The repairs to the castle had been completed in record time, and as Harry walked through the familiar corridors of Hogwarts, he thought that unless you'd actually been there, you would hardly know that just mere months ago there had been a terrible battle that had destroyed nearly half the castle. The giveaway was actually in the Great Hall. Where once the four House tables had been filled to capacity with students, it was clear that many had not returned as each table was roughly half-full. The Slytherin table in particular seemed practically empty; the house had been reduced to less than one hundred students. Particularly worrying for Harry, he noted that there seemed to be less students in the Great Hall than there had been on the train the day before. A suspicion that was confirmed as a young couple entered the Great Hall halfway through breakfast and, after a few short words with Professor McGonagall, ushered a Ravenclaw first year from the hall.
"She won't be the last," Ginny commented, "Parvati Patil went last night, Padma too. They'd only just convinced their parents to let them come back."
"But there's nowhere safer than Hogwarts!" Harry protested, but Ginny cut him off.
"Maybe there is," she sighed, "you weren't here last year when he had taken over. The school was a different, dangerous place, and not just because of the Carrows. You had to be on your guard at all times, Death Eaters and their sympathisers walked freely around the school, sometimes cursing people for fun, and any rebellion was punished really harshly. That memory will linger for a long time, especially for parents who didn't have any choice in sending their kids here. The attack on the train won't have helped ease their minds one bit."
"So how do we prove that Hogwarts is safe?" Harry asked.
"You," Ginny said pointedly, "don't go and have any dangerous or risky adventures or escapades. I know you don't go looking for trouble Harry, but you have a knack for finding it every year. This time, do what Kingsley wants. If anything suspicious or dangerous happens, report it to McGonagall or the Aurors, and let them deal with it."
"How would that have helped when a group of masked weirdos started firebombing the Hogwarts Express?"
"I know Harry, and I'm proud of you for protecting the train," she gave him a quick kiss, placating him for a moment before continuing in a whisper, "but you know as well as I do that the papers, and the students, and the teachers are watching you like a hawk, all waiting to see what you do next. The best thing you can do is have a nice, drama-free year at school. Win the Quidditch Cup, graduate with top grades, enjoy days out at Hogsmeade. Finally have that perfect year you've always wanted, and then, if anyone asks you if Hogwarts is the safest place to send their kids to school, you can genuinely say yes."
Harry mulled this over for a while, silently seething, but realising despite his desire to do exactly the opposite, that Ginny was right. He hadn't failed to notice the whispering as he had arrived in the Great Hall. The Daily Prophet had sent reporters to follow him almost everywhere he went during the summer, and he could be sure that news of the attack on the train, and his part in it, and the message burned into the carriages, would soon break, and be splashed across the front page of the Daily Prophet. Resigning himself to the fact that he would have to appear to the public as a model student thoroughly enjoying himself in his final year at school, Harry finished his breakfast and headed to his first class with a renewed determination to become Hogwarts' best student. This mood lasted all the way up until the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher waltzed into the classroom.
The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom had been different each year that Harry had set foot in it. Gilderoy Lockhart had decorated the room entirely with pictures of himself, Professor Lupin kept a variety of dark creatures in jars and tanks in both his classroom and office. The imposter Moody had various jars of worms, spiders, and bees that he had used to demonstrate the Unforgivable curses, Umbridge had stripped the room entirely bare save for the desks and blackboard, and Snape had imposed his dark and gloomy personality on every inch of the room. Now, the room was light and airy, and comfortable. This struck Harry as odd. He sank into a chair that had a cushioning charm placed upon it and looked around the room feeling uneasy. There appeared to be various dark objects locked in cabinets around the room, not unusual for a DADA class, but there was also an odd assortment of objects on tables and shelves around the room.
A number of cloaks hung up along one wall, beneath them a pitcher of water had been placed on a table next to four glasses. Across the room a shelf groaned under the weight of several heavy, leather-bound books, and a dusty music box. A table with several overflowing jewellery boxes occupied the space at the front of the classroom, and a small record player stood beside it emitting soft, slow music. By now, Harry was aware that several minutes had passed since their class was supposed to have started. Many students had started to chatter amongst themselves, stretching out and lounging in their seats, or else pulling out their textbooks and flicking through them lazily. Harry, on the other hand, had subconsciously been gripping his desk so tightly his knuckles had turned ghostly white. Ginny was watching him curiously whilst ruffling around in her bag for textbook, perhaps wondering why he seemed so tense. Harry simply had a sense that something was off about this room. He had never known a Hogwarts Professor to be late before, and the strange, seemingly random assortment of objects and trinkets and books made him feel uneasy. Without even thinking about it, Harry had drawn his wand, and Ginny had grabbed his arm, hissing at him to calm down.
"Five points to Gryffindor," a familiar, haughty voice called out across the room. The students in the class suddenly snapped back to attention, looking around for the mystery voice, but Harry had jumped straight to his feet, his wand raised in the direction he thought the voice had come from. "Mr Potter has just illustrated the importance of taking in your surroundings."
Narcissa Malfoy shed an invisibility cloak and stepped out of the shadows at the back of the classroom. Beside Harry, Neville Longbottom had jumped from his chair and drawn his own wand, firing a stunning spell that Narcissa deftly deflected with a shield charm so powerful it knocked over a desk in front of her. "What are you doing in our school Malfoy?" Neville growled.
"Professor Malfoy," Narcissa drawled, "I did not know standards at Hogwarts were so lax that students are now permitted to attack their teachers."
"Teachers no," Neville spat back, "but bottom-feeding scum like you are fair game." Harry's mind was reeling. Had Narcissa Malfoy really been hired as Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor? How could Professor McGonagall allow this to happen? Harry kept his wand trained directly at Narcissa's chest, and he noticed Ginny doing the same.
"Well Longbottom, I think you've earned yourself detention, and seeing as Mr Potter, and Miss Weasley look poised for a fight I think they can join you."
"Fat chance," Ginny shouted, winding up for a hex of her own. Harry grabbed hold of her arm, and she glared back at him with a look of betrayal. Harry lowered his own wand, but turned to face Narcissa, hatred in his eyes.
"I had no idea," Harry said trying to sound measured, "that standards at Hogwarts were so lax that the school has resorted to hiring Death Eaters." Narcissa smiled a sickly-sweet smile back at Harry, but the left side of her face betrayed her for a moment with involuntary twitch of anger. Slowly, she pulled back both sleeves to show the pale, smooth skin of her forearms, completely unblemished.
"Unlike some of your past teachers, you'll find no mark on my arms," Narcissa's next monologue began with an air of finality. "Professor McGonagall personally hired me to return to this school to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts due to the unique experience I have gained whilst observing the most powerful Dark Wizard of the last century carrying out his most terrible deeds. If you have any concerns regarding this appointment, you may take them up with the Headmistress after class."
"By now, most of you in this class should have mastered a large variety of defensive spells to N.E.W.T standard. This is good when facing off against a wizard or witch in a duel, however, dark magic is not limited to spells cast in anger. Potions, cursed objects, dark creatures, necromancy, torture devices, the list is endless and ever changing. In order to protect yourself from all of this, you must learn to be vigilant and to assess your surroundings. Mr Potter was the only student not taken in by the warm, comfortable classroom and the soothing music coming from the gramophone that would have eventually put you all to sleep. This could have saved his life.
In this class you will learn to judge the safety or danger of your surroundings, identify that which is benign, and that which will cause you harm. I would like all of you to walk around this classroom and look – do not touch – carefully at each item you see. We shall see who can identify the most dangerous object in this room."
Students got out of their seats and began milling around the shelves and cabinets of the classroom, silently discussing whether or not the rings in the jewellery box were cursed, or if any of the sharp, spindly objects locked in the glass cabinet were used as torture devices. Harry, Ginny, and Neville used the time to silently seethe at Narcissa and wonder furiously as to why Professor McGonagall had hired her, and whether or not Kingsley knew. As the last of the student sat, Narcissa asked each in turn to name the most dangerous object in the room. The jewellery, the items in the glass cabinet, and the gramophone were popular options. Ginny rather ruefully claimed it was one of the books on the shelf, and Harry, much to the surprise of the class, claimed it was the mirror.
"You were all incorrect," Narcissa said to the surprise of no-one, "the jewellery is just that, the mirror is enchanted to give compliments to those who use it to style their hair, and the books are the complete works of Bathilda Bagshot." Narcissa strode over to the bookshelf and plucked a heavy leather-bound book from the shelf, throwing it towards the row of cloaks hung up on the wall. One of the cloaks sprung to life, wrapping its arms around the book, and violently tearing it to pieces, much to the shock of the students. "An innocent looking cloak hung amongst many others that could kill you in an instant. This music box," Narcissa gestured to the dusty, silver box on the bookshelf, "would render the person who opens it permanently deaf."
"However, the most dangerous object in this room is the one that looks the most benign." Narcissa strode purposefully over to the pitcher of water and poured out a glass which she held up to the class. "One sip of the Draught of Living Death would put any witch or wizard into a nearly irreversible coma that would last the remainder of their natural life. It is colourless, odourless, tasteless, and has the same viscosity as water. It is almost impossible to tell the difference, and that is what makes it the most dangerous thing in this room."