Word Count: 4,514

Former Word Count: 5,620 (14+15)

…

What Might Be Called Authority

...

[September 3, 1994: The Atrium, the Altair Institute of Magic]

Lunch was a tense affair. Malfoy and his groupies had shown up (plus Marcus, who had been the one to retrieve them), looking haggard and somewhat irritated, and Malfoy had spent a long minute shouting at Azalea that the new scars he had were her fault. Azalea had taken a long look at the pale pink lines criss crossing his face and had laughed, unable to help herself. After four years of tormenting her and everyone else who wasn't as pureblooded as him and trying his best to ruin the livelihoods of several teachers… well, Azalea was running a little low on sympathy.

Ron and Hermione had shown up, too, shepherded by a pair of irritated looking vampires one wrong word away from murder, and had proceeded to complain at Justin and Terry for theivery and abandoning them. The two boys had very pointedly stuffed food into their mouths and ignored them, and Azalea found herself following their example.

The Altair students were probably the worst of the group, sitting between and to the sides of the students radiating something between annoyance and rage and talking to each other in a language Azalea couldn't quite place other than "not English." It meant most of lunch was spent in silence, although Terry and Justin whispered to each other and Luna asked the Altair students increasingly inappropriate questions about what they were and the other beings at Altair.

Azalea liked the silence better than she did listening to Hermione or Draco whinge about the school.

It didn't last.

"Well, now that we're all settled," Lorenzo said, standing at the end of the table and studiously ignoring one of the vampire's snickers. "If you've forgotten, I'm Marcus Lorenzo, human, and I'm aiming for masteries of Illusion, Nature, and Shamanic Magic. I'm presently in my fourth year. Reid, could you continue?"

"Reid Strelem," the vampire with dark brown eyes and hair replied, giving the group a toothy grin and showing off his fangs. "I'm a vampire, obviously. Aiming for a Battlemagic mastery, plus Spellcrafting and Wandless depending on how it goes."

"Spellcrafting?" Hermione echoed, "but that's so advanced! It can't be taught in—"

"Spellcrafting's a year seven class, kid," Strelem corrected, unimpressed. "I'm only in my third year, and I'm just finishing up charms, but yes. It can be taught. It's taught at Altair, after all."

"Sei Varrick!" the other vampire proclaimed over Hermione's sputters, "Also a vampire. Probable masteries here in Blood Magic and Necromancy—"

"Excuse me?" Hermione interrupted again, aghast, "Blood magic and necromancy? Those are horrible magics! And— and, battlemagic! That doesn't even exist! You can't be using dark magic—"

"What, exactly, would you know about it? You've only completed your fourth year of school. At Hogwarts. That's barely equivalent to year one here. I'll be the first to admit that as a third year here I'm nowhere near as capable as anyone in their final years or any of the teachers, but I likely surpassed you by the time I was eight, you little—"

"Sei." Strelem interrupted with a pinched expression. Azalea got the impression he was more annoyed with Hermione than anything else. Strelem switched to a different language and said something to Varrick that made him roll his eyes and rest his arms on the table, quiet again but this time glaring intently at Hermione.

"Oliver Volren, water fae," Volren offered with a beaming grin, doing his best to distract the group. "I'm mastering Elemental Magics with a focus in water, because of course I would, I'm fae, and also Nature Magic, Fae Magic, and Warding. It's only my second year here, and my favorite color is green. Good icebreaker?"

"No one cares, Volren." I'vores said, hostile again. "Lorcan I'vores. I'm going for a mastery in Elemental Magics with a focus on earth and Offensive Magics. It is my third year here, and I—" he paused dramatically, "—am an earth daemon."

He got the reaction he wanted.

Hermione recoiled like she'd been struck, proceeding to cross herself with rushed movements (she may not have been religious, but she did recognize that 'demons' were scary), the purebloods not reacting much better. Malfoy, Greengrass, and Corner all looked suddenly alarmed, staring at the daemon with wide eyes as if he would immediately eat them, and Ron had actually fallen out of his seat and attempted to scramble away (only really succeeding to crush his half-transfigured backpack and tear the seams). Zabini had fared the best, twitching and inching ever-so-slightly away from I'vores, as he'd been the one to sit closest to him.

Volren was the one to start laughing. It was more of a cackle, really, loud and drawn out and interspersed with helpless snorts. It was enough to startle Azalea into laughing too, though she was well aware her group's reaction to it hadn't been much better. Luna's bemused question about why they'd reacted that way made I'vores sigh and Susan and Hannah start to giggle rather helplessly.

It wasn't even particularly funny. Call it sleep deprivation, or desperation from being directionless in the 'wilderness' for three days, but seeing Azalea's fellow Hogwarts students react the way they did was hilarious. Lorenzo took a moment to stare at the laughing Hogwarts students (plus Volren) and he sighed, lowering his head between his hands with a tired groan.

It took Azalea a while to compose herself, only barely managing after seeing the general annoyance on the majority of their guides' expressions (and the general hostility from the tables around them). She hiccoughed, and then cringed, and mumbled a half-formed apology.

"I can't believe we didn't get that reaction," Varrick bemoaned, nudging Strelem with his elbow. "We're the scary ones, anyways. Daemons aren't even the fun type of scary beings. They just sort of… exist opposite to fae. They're far from evil, or at least certainly farther than vampires." Varrick joked, the latter half of his sentence directed at the still alarmed Hogwarts students. They didn't look very reassured, but as Varrick's smile sharpened into something a little more frightening they sputtered and settled down.

"Now that we've learned that your idiocy knows no bounds," Strelem said pointedly, talking over the loud protests, "Why don't we just head straight to Headmistress Mercuriel's office, at least partly because I think that if you stay out here antagonizing entire races you'll wind up dead… not that I wouldn't enjoy watching. But apparently, I've been deemed responsible and have to deal with you."

"You wanted to torment them," Varrick pointed out, ducking out of the way of Strelem's shove.

"Right. There's that. Up you get, time to meet the Deputy." Strelem gestured impatiently for them to stand, before turning and leading the way (supposedly) to the Deputy Headmistress' office. Varrick rushed to catch up with him, the two resuming their conversation, but the rest of the Altair students waited for the Hogwarts students to move before they followed lazily behind.

It was mostly silent, interspersed with quiet questions that were directed to their guides and Hermione's poorly whispered rant. Azalea could only imagine how loud it would be to the four guides with enhanced hearing, but they didn't react to anything that the muggleborn witch said. In fact, the Altair students didn't say anything to the Hogwarts students unless it was to answer questions until they arrived at a heavy looking wood door.

"Alright, a word of advice," Lorenzo sounded tired as he paused with his hand poised to knock, "Deputy Mercuriel is not the person to irritate. Behave. Be polite. This is likely your one warning. Understood?"

Receiving nods from maybe half the group, Lorenzo grimaced but turned to knock politely on the door, waiting for an invitation to come inside before pushing open the door and gesturing to the Hogwarts students to enter. They filed in warily, Azalea stepping in first and studying the room.

It was built for comfort in a way that was very different from Headmaster Dumbledore's. Instead of heaps of whirring metal instruments stacked on endless tables they'd never be allowed to touch, there was a spread of large comfortable chairs with red and orange cushions, all circled around a low oval coffee table that was ended on one side by a wide wooden desk and the door on the other.

The ceiling was high and arched in a way reminiscent of the Great Hall, only instead of candles there were brilliantly colored crystals that caught and reflected light into little rainbows around the room. The crystals hummed in synchrony with the way light moved between them, each chiming in an imitation of windchimes. It was barely audible, but there, and Azalea felt herself relax before she was really aware of their calming nature.

The many colors of the crystals seemed slightly at odds with the rest of the room, with the red and orange cushions and the warm woods of the office. The hallway they'd walked through to get here had been mostly cold stone, with a dark purple rug running through the middle, lanterns in sconces on the walls, and tapestries of different creatures or slogans hanging every few meters. Despite the decorations, the hallways had felt impersonal and cold, but the office didn't feel anything but welcoming.

Once she'd noticed it, Azalea was just barely able to notice the faint ward around the room that made people more comfortable, but despite noticing she wasn't able to brush off the affects. She wasn't sure she minded, either.

The wall across from the door was hung with wide mirrors, each showing different scenes from Altair's campus and surroundings, with the widest one from right behind the Headmistress displaying a birds eye view of the Atrium. The right wall was a solid bookcase carved with old designs and runes for preservation, with the exception of a door tucked far in the back. The shelves were full of scrolls and old tomes with gleaming gold trim and thick black journals marked with years and names — the old Deputy Headmasters, Azalea realized. There were also knick knacks of all shapes and sizes, and a shelf up high had drinks and neatly stacked glasses.

The left wall was a mess in contrast with the right, half of it filled by wide shelves stacked with jars that were full of miniature weather systems and ecosystems, several crystal balls full of cloudy smoke, and several antique weapons. There were a series of moving tapestries along the rest of the wall, each depicting different beasts that Azalea barely picked out as being representative of storms; a massive thunderbird, wings beating in time with flashes of lightning, a lurking raiju, and clouds in the form of a massive winged serpent. At the feet of the tapestry there was a wide, plush pet bed that gave Azalea a double take, especially given the lack of inhabitants.

Azalea finally tore her eyes from the room's decoration and layout, visibly turning to look at the rather intimidating form of Altair's Deputy Headmistress, Alith Mercuriel.

She was sitting at her desk, chin resting in her hand as she smiled gently at the incoming students, eyes flicking between each one assessingly. Her hair was braided in curling patterns pinned against her head, and as her dark blue eyes moved around the room they flashed notably silver and gold with emotions Azalea couldn't quite pick out.

She was silent, though, as the Hogwarts students trailed cautiously into the room and the Altair students moved to stand to one wall, Varrick even looking over some of the old tomes with openly curious eyes. Her silence was enough to stop the ongoing muffled conversations, and Azalea briefly figured that she'd probably find it uncomfortable if it wasn't for the fact that she was half-stuck between the ward-inflicted comfort and the rising discomfort around the obviously powerful woman. There was just… something about her, Azalea thought, something that made it hard to want anything but her respect and approval.

"Welcome to the Altair Institute of Magic," Headmistress Mercuriel said softly, the welcome travelling easily in the silent room as she gestured for her guests to sit. "As a formal introduction, I am Alith Mercuriel, Deputy Headmistress of Altair Institute of Magic."

"What are you?" Michael Corner asked with a sneer, the rude question making Azalea (and more than a few others) physically cringe. Even if he was disgusted by her obviously not being human, how the hell hadn't he picked up on how powerful she was? People didn't just go around insulting Dumbledore for a reason.

"A weather fae," Mercuriel said, lips quirked in amusement, flicking her fingers to conjure a soft looking couch to the side for the still-standing Altair students to take, all of whom murmured soft gratitude as they sat. Azalea's eyes widened at the lazy display of power, but it quickly turned to despair when she realized—

"Was that wandless magic?" Hermione blurted, eyes wide and stuck between being impressed and appalled. "That's not possible!" she protested, "I mean, it's bad enough that dark magic is practiced here, but everyone knows that wandless magic isn't possible! Everything I've read—"

Halfway through, Mercuriel had sighed and pointedly raised her index finger and brought it to her lips, wandlessly silencing the know-it-all with only a gesture. "That's more than enough from you," she said cooly, "I would give you a piece of advice; don't be so disrespectful to your professors. All it will lead to is your suffering."

From the side, Strelem snorted quietly and nudged Varrick with his elbow, "At least you get the opportunity to learn early on," he commented politely, "and that you didn't have to be launched off of a roof by a human to get the point."

There was obviously an accompanying story, but given the way Varrick bared his teeth and snarled out a quiet "Bite me," it probably wasn't going to be one they'd hear anytime soon. It devolved into a brief muttered argument until Mercuriel turned to them with a raised eyebrow.

"Later today," the Deputy Headmistress addressed the Hogwarts students once again, "Professor Powell will help you choose your classes for the first semester you have here. You have a series of required classes; Culture and Customs, Theory of Magic, Medimagic, Runes, Charms, Potions, Physical Combat, and Theory of Magic. Some of you might end up required to take additional classes, and I suggest you make the most of your time here at an actually capable magical institution."

Azalea couldn't help her soft huff of laughter, even as Malfoy sneered. "Hogwarts is the best school in Europe," the pureblood said to open mockery from the Altair students. They knew he'd probably rethink that statement a few weeks in… at least, if he paid attention in class.

"I'll allow that for today," Mercuriel commented drily. "Regardless, I should properly introduce Altair. Judging from your… entrances, if they could be called that, many of you didn't have the opportunity to learn about Altair. Altair Institute of Magic has been around for a long time— nearly fifteen hundred years by now. In the past seven hundred years or so, Altair expanded to create ATLAS, the coalition of Altair Sister Schools. Altair and ATLAS make up some of the most elite schools that exist, covering a wide range of focuses and curriculums.

"Altair itself is frequently considered to be the most advanced and rounded school, with many ATLAS schools sending their students here for mastery level courses. The result of that is a higher proportion of upper-year students than lower, with probably half of the student population being here to receive their masteries." Mercuriel was calm and patient in her explanations, and she looked honestly proud.

Azalea took the quiet pause to examine the office a little further, glancing back over to the empty… the no longer empty pet bed to the side. Now it was filled with a creature that seemed to be made from captured lightning made into liquid, chaos and ozone trapped in the body of a handsome wolf that stretched and stood slowly at Azalea's attention, prowling slowly forward. Azalea's eyes widened involuntarily, and the movement was more than enough to clue some of the other students into the raijũ's presence.

"Raiden," Mercuriel scolded, drawing panicked eyes to the raijũ, "lay down."

Raiden ignored her, creeping ever so slowly towards Azalea. He stopped near Alith's desk and layed down, to the Deputy Headmistress' rolled eyes, and stayed perfectly still to stare eerily at Potter and Lovegood. It was something Raiden did frequently to Alith, staring unnervingly at her as she worked on something or another. It was horribly distracting — and it looked like it was being similarly distracting to Potter and Lovegood, both of whom had now focused on Alith's raiju with steady eyes.

It was both humorous and somewhat frustrating, given that from the reports she'd heard so far indicated that Potter was, if not the only non-aggravating Hogwarts student, then one of the very few. Alith couldn't help but push gently against her mental link with Riveren Aizaguirre, and pushing the image towards him with some amusement.

/ Full of surprises, / Riveren replied absently, more focused on the rather precarious magic he was managing, / Remind me to advise my students to actually approach her and ask permission to play with her magic instead of just forcing it. /

Azalea sent laughter down the link. They'd spent more time talking about the anomalous nature of Potter's magic (described accurately in the Divine Eye as being one of the very few magical development of interest in Great Britain from the last century).

/ Honestly, Riveren, one would think you didn't already know the secret to her odd magic. /

/ You think I already know the secret? /

/ You certainly know more than you've let on. / Alith retorted, absently answering the few questions the Hogwarts students directed towards her about Altair and its history. She could faintly feel the mental broadcast from her students, narrating and commenting on the generally twitchiness of the Hogwarts students to anyone who wanted to listen. / And I'm just a little bothered you won't let me in on any of it. /

/ Alith, darling deputy mine, / Riveren was a little too amused in the face of the weather fae's annoyance. / Caracalla and Aldyn both threatened by head as soon as you even mentioned her magic to me. It's a — how do I put it — a very specific anomaly; one that, while I've heard of past examples of, has already manifested itself much differently. /

/ Thank you, headmaster dear, for arousing my curiosity even more. / Alith replied passively, telling one of the Hogwarts students that No, they didn't get to have the exact same privileges as her students, they weren't students of Altair, no matter where they were. / Now, please ensure whatever experiment you're working on doesn't destroy half the valley in another natural disaster. And ask Caracalla if he'd indulge my curiosity. /

/ Ask him yourself. / Riveren said drily before his presence disappeared from Alith's mind.

Alith paid a little more attention to the questions the Hogwarts students were peppering her with, amusingly raising their hands before each one. She didn't bother to call on them to answer, but she did answer any actually spoken questions.

"Miss — sorry, Deputy Mercuriel," a girl spoke up. Alith picked her out as Hannah Abbott, and she nodded for her to continue, "What exactly is, er, Raiden, was it?" Abbott asked, eyeing the raijũ-wolf in trepidation all the while.

"Raiden is a raijũ, a creature of lightning and storms," Alith said easily, "Raijũ originate in Japan, and are shapeshifters like many storm spirits. Raiden's personal favorite forms to wear are the wolf, as you can see," Alith watched Raiden transform into a blue-yellow fox and slink closer to Potter and Lovegood, "and the fox."

"And Pikachu," Varrick commented from the side, snickering. Alith turned briefly to glower, not particularly interested in remembering the several weeks after one of the odder Altair students had shown up. He'd been studying Technomancy, and had made the terrible choice to show Raiden some game, and Raiden had spent too long annoying her with a bizarre lightning-mouse form. The same student had chosen to charm him so that a horribly squeaky "Pika~!" would sound every few minutes. Alith had felt like the fate the student had received during an entirely natural thunderstorm was more than deserved.

(And there hadn't ever been a mention of the wretched game ever since. Alith felt like she'd done Altair a great service saving it from that for all eternity.)

"Raiden's other preferred form is that of something similar to liquid. Well," Alith amended, searching for the simplest explanation, "More of an amorphous ball of lightning."

Alith, despite her utter pride in all she'd helped Raiden learn to do, refrained from telling them about all of the other more interesting abilities she'd taught her companion. It had taken a long time, but Alith had more than enough time and patience to teach and imbibe Raiden with skill.

"Right," Susan Bones said, changing the question, "I don't know if—" Bones paused and glanced uncomfortably at Potter, who had tilted her head to peerly at Raiden when he shape-changed. "Why, exactly, is the valley filled with, well, all of what it's filled with?" Bones asked.

Alith grimaced purposefully. "Most of what you met wasn't quite things we were aware of being there. Malthus Riveras, a fae nature magic teacher, had a project with some of his students over summer and underestimated the capabilities of determined animals. I'm not sure how he didn't realize that leaving a manticore near the entrance after being reminded multiple times of incoming students was a terrible idea."

The Hogwarts students looked more than a little horrified at that.

"You can't even keep track of what's in your own cursed valley?!" Malfoy shouted, furious, "I can't believe that—"

"Honestly, Malfoy," Potter interrupted, finally pulling her gaze away from Raiden. "Were you aware of the acromantula colony in the Forbidden Forest? How about the basilisk inside the school? The cerberus?"

As Potter continued, Malfoy simultaneously managed to pale and redden furiously, attempting to interrupt only to have Potter speak over him.

"You had a basilisk inside your school?" Seifried asked curiously, getting Potter to pause and look at him. "How old?"

"Uh… fifteen hundred years maybe? She was Salazar Slytherin's, So I'm not totally sure on the exact age."

"Is she still alive? That would be worth a lot." Reid commented. Alith leaned back in her chair to watch the conversation continue.

"Ehm… no." Potter looked embarrassed, "I kind of killed her. I mean, I killed her. Not kind of—"

"What?!" Marcus near-shouted, echoing the thoughts of the gobsmacked Altair students. In all her terms as Deputy Headmistress, Alith could honestly not remember hearing of a tiny human child killing a basilisk. Or doing any similar feat. "How old were you?" Marcus continued, appalled.

"...twelve?" Potter hedged, shrinking into her seat.

Alith and her students stared in startled silence, Alith's sudden focus drawing Riveren's attention once more. Some of her students had done plenty of impressive things at a young age, particularly the beings who aged faster (namely vampires, fae and daemons, and elves)... but humans didn't tend to do things like that until they were much older, and not even then. Only four humans had slain a basilisk without dying, and all four of them were well older than fifty when they did.

"With what?" Marcus finally asks, though he looked more than a little apprehensive at the possible answer.

"...a sword?" Potter mumbled, though it was easily audible in the quiet room.

Marcus drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, ignoring the hilariously dumbfounded expressions on his fellow student's faces. Alith figured he was realizing it would be significantly harder to keep the Hogwarts students intact if they were prone to going off and fighting basilisks. "Do you know how to fight with a sword?" Marcus asked slowly.

"...the pointy end goes into what you want to kill?" Potter hedged. "I mean, I ended up stabbing the basilisk through the roof of her mouth. I did get a fang embedded in my arm, but it worked out in the end."

Alith was distracted from Marcus' response by the raucous laughter Riveren and Caracalla projected to her mind. / And here I thought you'd made a mistake, Alith! / Caracalla laughed delightedly, / But now we've got a girl with too much sight and a little saviour prone to stabbing swords through basilisk's mouths! Now I'm almost disappointed I won't get to teach them this year. /

/ Or, / Alith repeated a suggestion she'd made several times before, though she agreed with the impending chaos. / You could teach the culture class I'm forcing on them. Or even the Theory of Magic class, I know how much you adore Theory. /

/ Please, darling deputy, we both know Cara's Theory of Magic class would be terribly above their level of comprehension. / Riveren replied, thoroughly amused.

/ I am not about to teach idiotic British humans Theory of Magic, no matter how interesting two of their students are. Besides, isn't Culture and Customs Sottero's punishment for getting all of the Blood Magic students killed last year? The only reason he's still alive is that the exceptional students had advanced early and weren't in the class. / Caracalla commented.

/ Don't even pretend to be upset at that! / Riveren jibed. / You wouldn't stop laughing your ass of for weeks afterwards any time you thought about it. /

/ At least William won't be able to kill these students if he's teaching Culture. / Alith complained. The unnecessary deaths, and the paperwork they required had been incredibly frustrating, but she'd filled everything out anyways. Families did deserve some reassurance. Alith focused her attention again on her office, watching absently as her students peppered Potter with questions and tried to ignore the increasingly loud complaints of the other Hogwarts students.

/ Want to bet on that? / Riveren challenged before he and Caracalla slipped back out of the weather fae's mind, taking Alith's opportunity to sit back and watch the drama with them.

"That's more than enough of that." Alith said calmly, nodding approvingly at her student's immediate silence, a few of the Hogwarts students following suit. Not all of them did, though, and Alith frowned briefly before flicking her wrist, sending lightning slamming into the ground near their feet with an echoing boom.

It shut them up alright. It also left a great portion of her floor charred and blackened, and Alith frowned even as thunder bounced around her office. At least it was easy to fix, and Alith waved her hand absently to get the wards to rebuild the floor, watching silently as the wards complied. The guests in her office had cautiously sat down again, looking more than a little terrified. All in a good day's work.

"Professor Powell will help you pick your classes," Alith finally said, giving the Hogwarts students her mildest frown, entertained at how they twitched and stared at the briefly charred spot on the floor. "Boys, please do show them the way."

"Potter, stay behind."

…

a/n: A bit of an update: I started two OC focused PJO fics that I'm having a lot of fun with (you should check them out), and I wound up with a great beta for them, which made me realize that I'd be nice to have a beta for this fic too. I feel like I've been neglecting avtw a bit, and I really want to make it as good as it can be. So…

If you're interested in beta-ing this story - please dm me! Really I'd just appreciate someone to bother me about writing and chat with me about this. (Even if you don't want to beta and just want to chat feel free to dm me/join my discord - check my profile.)

I'm also going to try and see if I can't switch the upload schedule for this to every two weeks (fingers crossed I stay inspired and follow my writing schedule). I'm also aiming for longer chapters/combining old AIM chapters to fit better, so things should start moving faster. I'm also on AO3 now! I'm planning to crosspost this story starting today.

That's all! Thanks everyone for reading and, as always, I'd appreciate any reviews/feedback!

- kie