Word Count: 3,416
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What Might Be Called Selective
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[September 3, 1994: Deputy Headmistress' Office, the Altair Institute of Magic]
Azalea couldn't stop shivering. The headmasters had only briefly continued their conversation —their banter, really— and the entire time, Azalea couldn't stop herself from shivering. She could feel the gooseflesh on her skin and the uncomfortable brush of her hair against her trouser legs. It was far from pleasant, and she couldn't just pull out a cloak from her bag in a probably futile attempt to warm up. She looked back at the headmasters, back at the headmaster.
He'd walked out of the shadows and practically froze the room solid, and then smiled and sat to share wine and blood with his deputy. Azalea… She didn't like it. The room felt stuffy and stifling despite her shivers, and as much as she tried to convince herself the headmaster wasn't hunting her, she couldn't shake the feeling that he could be. Her knee jumped into a rapid jitter she couldn't quite force calm, and Azalea only barely managed to feel grateful it was mostly quiet and hidden by the desk.
"Miss Potter," Headmistress Mercuriel finally addressed her, and Azalea stilled painfully fast, fingers scrunching in the fabric of her shirt as she waited for her verdict. The weather fae didn't continue, though, just watched Azalea with her head tilted ever-so-slightly.
"Headmistress?" Azalea prompted cautiously.
"Ah," Headmistress Mercuriel sat taller, resting her forearms on her desk, assured and relaxed in a way Azalea dreamed of being. "Do you prefer Potter-Black?"
"Oh. Either is fine, Headmistress."
"Miss Potter, then. Please, elaborate on your understanding of the types of magic; serpent and other," the Headmistress requested. Azalea nodded, carefully focusing her eyes on the fae even as she noticed the headmaster shift.
"I'd… I had a… In second year, I was sort of made aware of serpent magic," Azalea explained slowly, the words hard to find and harder to say aloud. "There was… there was a basilisk set on the students, and I used Parseltongue to open and find its chambers. I'm not sure if that was serpent magic or just a Parseltongue password, though, as I really just said 'Open' a few times."
"Hm, I wasn't aware that there was a basilisk, let alone one with chambers, in that castle. There certainly wasn't one put there in the first century of its establishment. I assume this is the 'Chamber of Secrets' I heard so little about?" the ancient vampire asked, the sound of his voice starting Azalea's unconscious leg-jitter once more. "And I highly doubt any of the wards on the castle would have allowed it to harm students."
"That—" the headmistress interrupted with a sideways glance at Headmaster Aizaguirre, who only shrugged. "That is not an example of serpent magic, as little as I know of it. I'm sure Riveren—" she tilted her head towards the headmaster, " —knows quite a bit more about serpent magic than I do, but neither of us are capable of using it. Typically, Speakers, who are what I'm sure you heard Parselmouths referred to by Syrul, are enrolled automatically into serpent magic classes with Silaes and other naga. Do you have any disagreements with that?"
"No, that sounds incredibly helpful," Azalea said honestly. "Is that sure to fit in with all the other classes I have, though?"
"Silaes will no doubt make them fit if need be," Headmistress Mercuriel dismissed drily. "Miss Potter, to get to the main reason I asked you to stay behind; some of the teachers noticed very peculiar things about your magic that are likely to limit the classes you can take."
"What do you mean?"
"Nuala and Caracalla, two of the blood magic teachers, noticed a residual drain on your magic that's likely to prevent you from performing blood magic safely. As necromancy and blood magic are always taken concurrently, it means you won't be able to take either class," the weather fae explained easily.
"Uh, a drain? Should I be worried about that?"
"Long-term, possibly; short-term, less so," Headmaster Aizaguirre supplied easily. "While no one capable and willing is likely available immediately, there are more than enough blood and soul magic experts here to ensure that it doesn't affect you untowardly and to remove it eventually. Do you have any ideas as to why there might be some form of drain?"
"Oh, I wouldn't— actually…" Azalea furrowed her brow in thought, remembering a conversation. "I remember— Headmaster Dumbledore placed blood protection around the house I lived in, ones connected to my relation to my aunt. I haven't had any issues with the family blood magic my godfather has taught me recently, though?"
"'Family blood magic,' as you put it, is typically called heritage magic. It's not an actual branch of magic, but rather a classification for inherited traits and personal family aptitudes and spells with performance or learning ability tied to blood," the vampire corrected. "It's not often referred to as blood magic by those who know what they're doing, as while blood magic was the frequent method by which family traits were instilled, heritage magic itself is not blood magic. The blood wards you mentioned —if done properly— should not have, under any circumstances, reacted in a way to result in this effect on your magic. If Albus Dumbledore was the one to raise them, I can easily see him, ah, 'cutting corners,' as he is so apt to do. The residual effect seems far closer to what I would expect from a misshapen blood ritual gone awry just wrong, although I've never seen effects to this degree," Headmaster Aizaguirre mused. "The only thing it should affect is your ability to take those classes, although I recommend going to the Healing Hall if it starts to be painful or exceptionally difficult to cast magic."
"Is that likely?" Azalea asked, face pinching uncomfortably.
"It's possible, and that's enough," Headmistress Mercuriel cut in. "Now, as you are behind and I doubt Johnathan would be happy repeating himself, you'll be getting advice from Silaes, one of our serpent magic professors, as you select your classes for this semester."
"Oh, of course…" Azalea trailed off for a moment, frowning. "Uh, is everyone else— will everyone else have chosen classes?"
"I presume," the weather fae said, hiding a faint smile behind her glass. "I believe that is all, unless Riveren, do you have something to say?"
"I do," Headmaster Aizaguirre pinned Azalea with his gaze, his eerie gold eyes seeming to glow in the reflected light. "Miss Potter-Black, we accept only the best from our students. The opportunity you and your fellow students have is not one to be taken lightly. If I hear even a rumor that any of you have been neglecting, or worse yet, disregarding the generous opportunity to study being offered to you… Altair is the most prestigious school of magic in the world for a reason. We are exceptionally talented at weeding out ungrateful and unwanted students. As you seem to, miraculously, hold the most sway over your peers, I suggest that you work to ensure their continued allowance here at Altair."
"Yes, sir," Azalea said automatically, eyes impossibly wide as she traced his measured steps out of the room, cloak billowing behind him in a way terribly reminiscent of Professor Snape. She stared blankly after him, watching the door swing shut.
"Miss Potter," Headmistress Mercuriel called softly. It took a great deal of effort for Azalea to turn and face her, and she carefully rubbed her clammy palms on her trousers. The headmistress' eyes were soft when Azalea met them, and her smile seemed more genuine than her earlier ones. Azalea was worried the fae was going to comment on her reaction, but she only called out for Silaes to join them.
Azalea glanced back at the door as it pushed open once more, the movement setting the hanging crystals ringing — she hadn't noticed before, but they must have done the same when they had entered the first time, and likely when her classmates and the headmaster had left, too. Silaes' tail was thicker and wider than Syrul's had been, scales tinted red and patterned with black rings down the spine. Azalea had only seen one once, but she couldn't help but be reminded of the Brazilian rainbow boa as his scales shimmered iridescently in the multicolored light of the crystals.
Silaes' scales also crept up further than Syrul's had, covering much of his bare abdomen and likely most of his back. Azalea wasn't sure whether it was culturally significant or not, but Silaes was similarly shirtless and decorated in necklaces as Syrul had been. His necklaces and bands were brightly colored, each cord made of gold or silver and the feathers all bright and long, and there were enough of them that it was hard to pick one out from the next.
"Silaes, good afternoon," Headmistress Mercuriel greeted. "This is Miss Callisto Potter-Black, the Speaker noticed earlier. Miss Potter, this is Silaes."
"Hello, Miss Potter-Black," Silaes replied, tail pushing him forward as he outstretched a hand for Azalea to shake.
"Er… § Hello, Silaes § Azalea greeted helplessly in Parseltongue, grasping his hand and shaking it strongly. § Sorry, I can't— I haven't learned how to control when I speak or not. §
Silaes' laugh was warm and raspy as he turned to face the headmistress. "I hope you don't mind me stealing away your student, Alith. Although I'm not sure she's quite figured out English yet," the naga teased, turning back to the door as soon as the fae nodded her agreement.
"Good day, Miss Potter, Silaes. Don't forget to inform Jonathan of your class selection once you're done," Headmistress Mercuriel reminded. Azalea returned the farewell with a polite nod of her head, and wobbled out of her seat, legs surprisingly unsteady as she followed after Silaes. Sure to her prediction, the scales on his back crept all the way up to the top of his neck.
§ Young speaker, it has been far too long since I was able to teach one of your kind, § Silaes began in the surprisingly comforting tones of Parseltongue. The only time Azalea had ever heard it spoken was from Tom Riddle's diary in second year, but the brief exchange had been far from pleasant. § There are far too many who think speakers are evil nowadays. In Europe, at least, though there are dozens of revered speakers in India and other places. §
§ Where are you from? § Azalea couldn't help but ask, staying at his side as he headed towards the Atrium. The few students they passed only spared a moment to nod to Silaes before continuing on, bags frequently slung over shoulders and books gripped between hands.
§ I find myself doubting you would know where it is, young speaker. § Silaes mused. § It is called the House of Lilacs, though that is not the translated name. § In English, I believe the name is Locula, bastardized from the Latin 'Locus lilacs,' § Creative. It was originally located in northern India, though it was moved into… § There's no word for this in our language, but it was moved onto a magical plane, in order to keep it safe and avoid detection after the spread of the Roman Empire."
§ House of Lilacs, § Azalea echoed curiously.
§ Yes, it is one of few mainly serpent communities. § Silaes supplied. § No doubt you will be invited there some day, but first you will have to train in our magic. Starting, perhaps, with being able to speak English around serpents. §
§ That would be helpful, § Azalea admitted, cheeks flushing. She side-stepped a remarkably tall Altair student, stumbling slightly in order to stay close to Silaes. People moved for him as he slithered— if that was even the right word. Slithered made Azalea think of something small, but Silaes' tail was massive and thick with muscle. Azalea wondered how quickly naga could move when they wanted to.
"Come, why don't you join us for— ah, by now it would be a very early dinner. Just a snack, then," Silaes suggested warmly.
§ Sure, § Azalea agreed, wincing soon after. § That was meant to be English. §
Silaes laughed deeply, moving towards the edges of the Atrium. Azalea glanced back at the administrative tower, orienting herself. She'd spent the first several weeks getting constantly lost at Hogwarts, and that had all been inside.
§ How big is Altair? § Azalea asked. Silaes was leading her to a sprawling pile of flat stones, covered in both naga and other beings with scales and fur as they lounged and rested in the sunlight. Azalea had a terrible habit of lazing about in the sunshine too, though it was often difficult to find a spot that stayed sunlit for long. She'd once found a spot next to the lake on a brilliantly sunny day and promptly sprawled out on the ground, soaking up as much sun as she could —Hermione had shown up soon after to nag her about starting her homework and finishing her already-finished essays, and about how much time she was spending playing Quidditch and being generally irresponsible.
§ As in, land area? That's a more difficult question to answer than you'd think, § Silaes answered in Parseltongue this time, gesturing for Azalea to join them on the rock. Some of the naga glanced up at his words, peering at Azalea with bemused expressions. § A great deal of the land here is… there aren't words in this language to properly describe it… Folded earth, maybe. §
§ I think I understand. Mostly I was just wondering how quickly I'd get lost, § Azalea admitted to a muffled chorus of surprise by the naga around them, many turning to look at her with inquisitive eyes.
§ Azalea! § Syrul's familiar voice called from a further rock as he pushed himself towards them, twisting between other naga and beings to get closer. They moved for him with grumbled protests, and Azalea took Silaes' cue to sit down with her legs crossed. Silaes and Syrul both curled their tails around them to get comfortable, coils supporting their upper bodies as they leaned forward. It made them uncomfortably tall compared to Azalea, though she just tucked her legs and bag closer and sat down to listen.
§ To start; your classes. Do you have an idea of what you want to do? § Silaes asked.
§ I'm not entirely sure, honestly. I know there are a lot of classes we're required to take— Charms, Potions, Medimagic… Physical Combat… and, uh, Culture and Theory of Magic this semester? § Azalea offered. § I definitely want to take, uh, Illusion, Battle, and Defensive Magic, as they sounded interesting. §
§ The first-year classes for all of those are Spring semester, § Syrul supplied readily, Silaes nodding in agreement.
§ This semester, I assume you're willing to join my class? § Silaes asked, receiving an immediate nod of agreement. § I would not suggest taking more than one additional class. Syrul, do you have any suggestions? §
§ Sure. Nature Magic would complement our magic well, and I have always enjoyed the Blood Magic classes. Hm, I'd maybe suggest taking a skill or language class… although seminars tend to work best for language, so maybe wait on that. § Syrul supplied.
§ I can't do Blood Magic, § Azalea offered easily. § Something to do with my magic. Nature Magic was something I was thinking of doing, though, especially if you suggest it. §
§ Does that settle your choices then, Azalea? § Silaes asked, materializing a sheet of paper and a pen with a movement of his wrist. At her agreement, he scrawled down her choices and folded the sheet, resting it in his palm, murmuring something under his breath, and vanishing it in a soft burst of light. Azalea stared.
§ So unused to casual magic? § Syrul asked. Azalea studied him for a moment, deciding it was mostly genuine.
§ No. I grew up around— § she struggled for a word that worked in Parseltongue, finally settling on describing their lack of magic. § Magicless people. I only learned about magic when I went to Hogwarts. §
§ Only then? § Silaes asked dubiously. § Surely not. Even where you aren't revered for 'surviving the curse of death,' your name is known. Surely someone would have noticed you and your home? §
§ Some did, but I hardly recognized them. I was told it was to ensure I had a safe, normal, childhood. § Azalea explained halfheartedly.
§ I had a normal childhood, § Syrul said quietly. § I also had magic and was taught how to use it to keep myself safe from a young age. § He sounded perturbed and concerned as he spoke, brow furrowed as he looked over at Azalea.
§ I suppose that means you know very little about us. § Silaes mused aloud, smiling faintly as Azalea flushed in embarrassment.
§ I did look as best I could, but… a lot of the information me and my— not-father, Sirius found… well most of it was contradictory. § Azalea said.
§ From the very basics, then, § Syrul suggested, Silaes nodding in agreement.
§ You have likely heard us called Naga. While that's not an incorrect term, we prefer the use of simply Serpents or Serpent Folk. Frequently those are only used by ourselves and Speakers, though many of the older beings call us such as well, § Silaes explained. § And, while our language and magic is particularly conducive to healing, we tend to be first warriors and hunters. Our magic, which is frequently described by outsiders as a form of nature magic, is much closer to the innate magic of different beings; something like a veela or succubae's allure, or a fae's way with nature, though those are greatly simplified explanations. §
§ Is there anything I need to get for your class? I know the letter said that any texts would be provided to us, but they said materials had to be obtained elsewhere, § Azalea asked.
§ A snake companion, § Syrul advised. § I can take you looking for one. You can hardly buy a snake that would suit you, § he finished derisively, lips curled in disgust. It made sense to Azalea that he wouldn't appreciate the idea of snakes as 'pets,' though the idea of getting another companion just made Azalea miss Hedwig.
§ Thank you, Syrul, for offering. Do you think Syenn would be interested in helping you advise Azalea? § Silaes asked.
§ It's very likely, yes, § Syrul agreed.
§ Then that is all I can think of telling you just now, Azalea, § Silaes nodded to her. § Do you have any questions for me? §
§ Not that I can think of just now, though I'm sure they'll pop up, § Azalea admitted.
§ Of course, you can always ask. My office... I'm actually not certain where my office is, yet. There was a bit of repair needed on the building after a fight broke out. I've been sharing an office with Santiago, the other Serpent on staff, § Silaes explained. § I will let you know where my office is as soon as I do, and you can ask me any questions you have. I'm sure many of the other Serpents would be willing to answer questions as well. § Silaes said pointedly, to the murmured agreement of the others spread out on the rocks.
§ Thank— § Azalea faltered, remembering the Healer's advice. § I appreciate the help, § she compromised, making Silaes and Syrul laugh quietly. § And I'll definitely take advantage of your offer to answer questions. §
§ Of course, little Speaker. Syrul, do you have the time to show Azalea to their dormitories? § Silaes asked, dismissing them at the other Serpent's agreement. Azalea stood, following Syrul's example as he made his way out of the Atrium. Azalea really wasn't sure exactly what she'd gotten herself into. So far, most of the people she'd met had been, if not kind, polite and respectful. They might not have appreciated the fact that the Hogwarts students were there, but they mostly seemed willing to wait and see whether or not Azalea's fellow students met or missed their admittedly low expectations.
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