Avior finally meets Dumbledore! And has his first Etiquette lesson :) Turais also makes an appearance, showcasing his magical power.

Metamorphmagus hair colours:

Blue- sadness

Red- anger

Silver- annoyance

Pink- Embarrassment/Surprise

Orange- amusement

Black- neutral/ fear

Blonde/Yellow- Happiness

Green- Disgust

Purple- Love

White- Rage

Grey- Nervousness

Brown- Hurt


Week A- Friday- 5th period- First Transfiguration Lesson

Avior had heard a lot about the famed Albus Dumbledore from his siblings and cousins, about how sly he was, the way he blatantly showed his favouritism to the Gryffindors, how sickeningly powerful the man was.

Their description had nothing on the way the professors power seemed to roll off him in waves, dampening spells doing nearly nothing to subdue it.

He strolled into the room, smiling every so often at a Gryffindor who caught his eye, not even hiding the way he trailed his eyes across the seated Slytherins in a searching fashion, distrust marring them.

Yet, when his scrutiny reached Avior, his interest peaked, eyes darting down to stare intently at his hands. Dumbledore was paying far too much attention to his bejewelled fingers, particularly the one that held his heir ring.

Avior was wary of Dumbledore, having been warned even by his parent's that he was someone to not catch the attention of, lest he be pulled into the man's grand plans.

It seemed as though he wouldn't get a choice in the matter, though, he thought to himself as the man began the customary welcoming speech, introducing himself.

" Greetings to you all. My name is Albus Dumbledore, your Transfiguration teacher as well as Deputy Headmaster. I hope that we can all get along splendidly for your next seven years here at Hogwarts." He spoke with a smile, blue eyes twinkling maddeningly at the students.

Dumbledore turned with a flourish, and with a flick on his wrist, the chalk began to write the lesson plan on the blackboard as the man himself turned back to address them once more.

" We will begin the year by learning the Transfiguration alphabet. I do not believe in waiting to begin absorbing knowledge, as all learning time is precious, so we will start right away. Please copy the diagram on the board, and then answer the question written underneath as best as you can. Do not worry if you cannot, that is why you are here, to learn and for me to teach. Now, begin."

Every student started scribbling down the diagram, focused as it was their first lesson with this teacher. Although, that would change in time, as students began to test the boundaries of how much they could get away with.

Avior looked to the question next, eyes lighting up with recognition as he remembered the lesson he and his tutor had about the subject.

'Who created the Transfiguration Alphabet, and why?'

'The Ancient Transfiguration Master, Asclepius Dentatus, created the Transfiguration Alphabet in the year 57 for the sole purpose of-'

"Mr Black, have you finished writing your response to the question on the board yet?" Dumbledore appeared suddenly, startling Casimir, who was sat to his right. The boy cursed slightly under his breath as ink splattered slightly on his parchment, but continued to write, not bothered by the mess much.

" Yes Professor," Avior responded dutifully, chanting a mantra in his head to stop his hair from flushing pink with surprised embarrassment. Arcadius' amused chuckle told him that he had failed in his attempt, and he elbowed him in the side in annoyance.

" May I read it?" The man questioned him, staring down at his full parchment. Avior blinked, wondering for a split second why the man had approached him for such a thing when he hadn't even checked his prized Griffindors'.

He handed over the parchment without another word, Dumbledore taking it slowly, more interested in watching his rings glisten. Avior snatched his hand back quickly, at a socially acceptable pace that wouldn't reveal his inner turmoil, and hid it under the desk, disturbed by the reverent look in his teacher's eyes.

Dumbledore scrutinised his writing, re-reading the piece as if to try and spot a mistake that he could point out. He eventually placed it on the desk, and grudgingly let the proud noise in the back of his throat come through.

His next words were ones that had most of the Gryffindors eyes bulging and Slytherins allowing themselves a sharp intake of breath.

" Five points to... Slytherin for a well-structured and accurate piece of writing, Mr Black."

As soon as Dumbledore turned his back on their side of the room, Avior's face twisted into one of confusion and disgust, both warring for dominance. His hair slightly bristled, tinting a greyish green, a sign that he was very affected by Dumbledore's words.

He adored being complimented, as most would, but the way Dumbledore had stared at him as if he was a long-awaited prize shook him to the core.

Avior's eyes made contact with Arcadius', who was sitting to his left, and he was stunned by the potent rage in his best friend's eyes, smouldering pits focused intently on Dumbledore's back.

" The way he looked at you." Arcadius made a disgusted noise, nose wrinkling as if it had encountered a repulsive odour. " I don't trust him Avi, not one bit." His hands were clenched in trembling fists on the table, betraying his returned stone-cold mask.

" Neither do I."


Week A- Saturday

Their only lesson of the day was one all the students could collectively say they weren't looking forward to. Etiquette.

It only ran on Saturdays, for three hours, and was compulsory for all the students of the school, although the hours were cut down for the students in their exam years, fifth and seventh.

Paired up with the Hufflepuff's for the lesson, they were ushered into the large room by a prefect who looked eager to get away from the room as soon as possible.

Just as they had scurried out of the room, a door to the side swung open with a flourish, revealing a witch that looked to be in her late 50s. She was tall, around 6'1, and had voluminous brown hair, pinned up in an elaborate bun. She wore black, stylishly made robes and carried herself with the utmost confidence as she approached them, steps precise and silent.

Her magic felt powerful even while obviously dampened, revealing to Avior that she wasn't a witch to be messed with.

" I am Marilla Bulstrode, your Etiquette professor for the next few years. You may only refer to me as Lady Bulstrode, Madam Bulstrode or simply Madam. I will not tolerate any hint of unruliness or disrespect in my classroom, is that clear?" A murmur of agreements swept through the classroom, earning a click of the tongue from their professor. " Speak clearly. A person of proper society does not mumble nor mutter their words. I said, is that clear?" This time, the class spoke audibly in unison, startled by her sharp reprimand. " This class is to turn all of you into respectable young ladies and gentlemen, ready to mingle with those of high society. For some of you, this class may be useless, as you and your family do not attend those sorts of gatherings, but it is mandatory, and you will learn to be proper whether you like it or not." She glared pointedly at a group near the back that was snickering, causing them to flush as the class' attention focused on them.

" Now, form an orderly line against the wall facing me. Good, you can all listen to instructions, it seems that you may not be completely hopeless." She paced back and forth slowly, sizing them up and critiquing their postures. " You, what's your name?" Madam Bulstrode suddenly demanded, pointing to a Hufflepuff girl a few people away from Avior, who blushed at the sudden attention.

" Eleanor Abbott. " She spoke quietly, but clearly, evidently having been trained from a young age. Avior vaguely remembered her from their welcoming ceremony when they were seven, still a timid person but no longer hesitant with her words.

" Ah, the Abbott heiress. Yes, I'll surely be expecting much from you. Boy, what is your name?" She barked at a terrified-looking Hufflepuff standing nearby.

" St-Stuart Hughes." He stuttered out, looking petrified of the teacher as if she was about the eat him.

" Hm, I don't recognise that name. Muggleborn? Yes, as I suspected. Unless you can attain a high Ministry position, this class is useless for you, if only useful to turn you from the bumbling mess you are now into a confident young man. You." She was suddenly standing in front of Avior, startling him enough that his control on his abilities nearly slipped. " A Black if I've ever seen one, the black curls say it all. The Peverell heir?" She questioned, humming when she received a sharp nod. " Yes, this lesson will be one you should aim to excel in, given your background and bloodline, it is a surety that you will be invited to virtually all the high-end gatherings."

Avior felt smugness well up inside him, fighting his facial features to keep the emotion from showing on his face. The professor sent him a knowing look but had already moved on to another person before he could respond.

After she had interrogated a few more of her new students, Madam Bulstrode made her way back to the centre once more, surveying them with narrowed eyes. " I see potential in this class, although that does not mean that it will come to be." She hummed, as in thought. " We seem to have a lot of Muggleborns this year," She looked to the Hufflepuff's, any ill content she may have felt entirely hidden from view. " So we will have to start from scratch. Everyone pick up a book from the front table, and be ready for a long few hours of learning how to walk like a proper British magical."


" Ugh, I never want to see her face again!" Arcadius complained as he trailed alongside his friends, neck stiff from holding it in the same position for the past few hours.

" Or hear her voice. My ears are still ringing from how she shouted at that Yates boy." Casimir joined in, stretching his arms above his head.

Avior only grunted in agreement, something that would have earned him a slap upside the head if he was in the company of his relatives.

The three made their way down to the courtyard, where many of their year group usually gathered in their spare time to chat while they had time.

They stopped at the steps when a sharp wail cut through the courtyard, startling them from their conversation.

" Hey! Give it back! Don't steal it, it's mine!" A boy in their ear, dressed in second-hand Ravenclaw robes yelped at his offended, arm stretched, reaching.

" As if I'd want any of your belongings, you filthy Mudblood. No, I'm just disposing of it as rubbish should be." The other boy grinned nastily, this one dressed in Slytherin colours and clearly a few years their senior, holding his want up to the book, an incendio on his tongue, ready to be spoken.

" Enough." Came a lazy drawl from one of the arches, Turais' form appearing from the shadows. " Not in such a public area, Travers. What would you do if a teacher saw you and removed points from our house? Tom would surely be most disappointed in you, for having to take the time out of his busy schedule to punish you." He slowly stepped closer, holding out his hand.

Travers nervously handed him the book, stepping back slightly. The boy who he had been harassing looked relieved, opening his mouth to thank Turais, only to snap it shut at his disgusted sneer.

" 'The Ministry of Magic- The Reformation of Wizarding Britain'. And why is a Muggleborn reading about the Ministry of Magic?" He questioned, tone far too innocent to be anything but fake.

" I- I uh, want-" The Ravenclaw stuttered, looking around nervously, eyes begging for someone to intervene. Nobody did, the majority of the onlookers being Slytherins and older Ravenclaws who cared nothing for muggle-borns. Even the select few Gryffindors shuffled anxiously, not interrupting despite how their house was hailed for their chivalry and bravery.

" Want to work there? Aw, how ambitious. Unfortunately for you, they don't accept your kind there unless you smarm your way into a blood-traitors pocket. A thing too many Mudbloods seem to be doing these days, with the increase of your sympathisers. The Ministry has better standards than to let any Wizard into their prestigious walls." With that, the book burst into flames in his hand, the ash falling to the floor in a neat pile. " Maybe you should start studying the important things, like the traditions of our world, before sticking your nose into places where you don't belong. Oh, and don't tell about this, I doubt the teachers would believe you, except that old coot Dumbledore. One of the best students' words against yours wouldn't look so good. Travers, with me. It seems as though you have forgotten the rule about spatial awareness, tut-tut. I'll have to rectify that as soon as possible." As he strolled past, a miserable looking Travers on his heels, he winked at Avior and his friend's who had watched the ordeal with stunned faces, a sparkling smile on his face, eyes far lighter than they had been just moments before.

" Holy- Your Cousin's so cool, Avi! Did you see the way he burned that book without an incantation or a wand! Wandless, wordless magic! That's not taught at Hogwarts, not to do both at once. It's advanced stuff." Casimir was wide-eyed, gazing at the pile of ashes that the Ravenclaw boy was snivelling over with awe.

" And the way he got the Travers boy to obey him without a hint of refusal, he's got to have some serious power in Slytherin to do something like that!" Arcadius joined in with heavy praise, watching Turais' retreating figure with a mixture of respect and trepidation. " That's scary as hell." He spoke the thought on all of their minds in a shaky whisper, gaining dual nods of agreeance.

" Yeah, It's a lucky thing that he thinks of me like a brother, otherwise I might fear that one day I'll be on the receiving end of that."

" Unlikely, he adores you, Avi. The day he turns his wand on you with the intent to harm will be the day the world ends!" Was Arcadius' bold retort, causing him to splutter and flush pink, hair matching his complexion.

" Don't Exaggerate!"

" It's the truth!"

Casimir snorted, drawing their attention. He grinned, opening his mouth to speak, before his eyes glazed over, body collapsing as he muttered.

" Too much, too much, too much! Make it stop, stop, stop!" Were his last hissed murmurs before his eyes rolled back, fainting.

" Casimir!"


It's been a year since I first published this story! I had hoped to have written more than what I have, so I'm going to try and do that from now on. I hope you like this chapter :)

Ao3 is quicker to update, so if you want to read this story a few days earlier, it's best to read it on there :) Although chapters get an extra round of editing, so there's fewer spelling mistakes and such. Your choice.

I've already decided on the end pairing of this fic, a surprising one, but that won't be the only one. This isn't a very romance centred fic though, more politics and worldbuilding. Its second story has also been planned, surprisingly, since they were once completely separate works, now joined.

Any ideas for the next chapter? It's already got close to 1000 words, but I feel as though this fic doesn't have enough drama. Eh.

So: Next shown lesson:

Flying

History

Traditions

Herbology

DADA

Charms

Magical theory

Potions

Astronomy

Another Transfiguration

?