Professor Parkinson blew Harry a kiss as she left his office, late at night.
The moment she stepped out through the door, a sticky mixture of frog guts washed down on her like a waterfall.
She stood in the doorway, blinking dumbly. Above her, Harry could see a bucket hanging upside-down. He wiped the goop from her mouth with a finger.
"Pissed off anyone recently, Pants?" Harry asked, unable to hide his amusement.
She scrunched her nose in anger. "I don't think I was the intended target, darling."
Right. It was his office. Harry sighed. While Pansy vanished the goo that covered her and Scourgified herself again and again, he summoned an old piece of parchment.
"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good," he tapped the map with his wand. Then, with another tap, he said "Rewind."
The dots on the map began to shift rapidly, until two came near the entrance to his office. "Pause," he muttered, taking a close look at the names, and a smile began sprouting across his face. With another "Rewind," he watched the two dots making a stop at the potions lab.
"Did you happen to have a load of frog innards in your lab, dear?" he asked.
"Of course, I always do, it's the simplest way to torment the students in detention."
"Mhm," Harry said. "Well, it seems that Melinda Malfoy and Mortimer Burke had paid a visit while we were... busy."
Pansy's face lit up. "Oh, I'm going to have so much fun torturing those two."
"No," Harry shook his head, and cracked a smile. "We're going to have so much fun torturing these two."
Mortimer Burke approached the DADA classroom shakily. It wasn't just because Professor Potter made a habit of attacking his students unexpectedly, but because he was quickly regretting aiding Melinda Malfoy in her prank last night. The professor was terrifying, and Mortimer didn't want to give him any more reasons to attack him.
Staying a bit behind Melinda proved very fortunate. When she walked through the doorway, a torrent of slugs sputtered down on her. Mortimer froze and stepped back. While Melinda screamed and cried, he could see the professor cracking a smile behind her.
"Please shut your mouth, Miss Malfoy. You don't wish to swallow any of those slugs, do you now?"
That seemed to do the trick. With a wave of Professor Potter's wand, the slugs vanished.
"Step in, Burke, no need to dawdle, slugs are the least of your worries at the moment."
Mortimer swallowed. He knew that they'd be busted. The professor was famous for uncovering secrets. He braced himself and ran through the doorway. To his relief, the professor's supply of slugs had apparently run out.
While they were waiting for the bell, a kid raised his hand.
"What is it, little goblin?" Professor Potter asked.
"I-I was wondering, sir, if you are going to teach us to duel?"
Excited whispers broke around them. The demand was apparently high. But the professor laid their hopes to rest with a scrunch of his nose.
"And why would you want that, Griphook?"
The kid hesitated. "I mean... wouldn't it be useful? For d-defense... and you're a famous duellist..."
Professor Potter sighed. "Listen, my long-fingered friend. There's a difference between a duel and a fight. A duel is a sport. It's something that pompous wizards like to do in order to show off how good they are at magic, and by extension, that they have bigger dicks. It's polite. It has rules. It's... civilized," the professor drawled the last word mockingly. "A fight is nothing like that, even if there is some overlap between the two."
The students hanged on to his every word. The bell chimed, and the door shut itself.
"H-How so, s-sir?" asked the kid known as Griphook.
The professor began pacing back and forth. "A fight is... not only more complex, but the objectives are different. You're not supposed to show off how many different spells you know in a fight. You're not supposed to wave your dick—I mean, wave your wand again and again for the entertainment of the crowd. You're supposed to ensure your own survival, or that of your friends. Even if it means to lie, or to cheat, or to burn the entire fucking manor down with Fiendfyre. You know what I mean? It's better to have safety in numbers, rather than fight mano a mano like some vain fool. Now, since I don't teach sports, I'm not going to teach you how to duel. I am going to teach you how—"
A crumpled ball of paper was thrown from one girl to another. The professor was mid-turn, at the other side of the classroom, and had spotted it. With a wave of his wand, he summoned it before it could even land, and then opened it.
"Well, well, well..." he drawled. "It seems someone was trying to shame her friend for having a crush on dear old me. Of course, that's completely ridiculous. Many people have had a crush on me. It's the eyes, I am told. There's nothing shameful about that. You, girl with the stupid hat, come here!"
Sylvia Malone, the girl who threw the ball of paper, rose out of her seat and slowly walked to the front of the class with her head down. Several students cracked vicious smiles.
"Cynthia, isn't it? Look into my eyes," Professor Potter said spiritedly. Sylvia raised her head bashfully, and the professor stared into her eyes.
"Ugh, seriously?" the professor let out after a moment. "That kid doesn't even know how to wipe his nose. Well, I guess not everyone can have good taste, like my admirers. Congratulations, Weatherby, the swot likes you. You can go back now," he nodded casually at the girl.
Mortimer saw tears in Sylvia's downcast eyes as she scuttled back to her seat. He couldn't help but feel glee, but it quickly faded when he recalled that the professor had yet to assign punishment for him.
"Well then, boys and girls, what does that teach us?" Professor Potter surveyed them.
"Not to pass notes in class?" asked the same kid who asked about duelling. The professor looked at him as if he was examining something that he found stuck to the bottom of his shoe. A few students giggled.
"Five points from Hufflepuff for wasting my time," the professor sighed.
"But he's a Ravenclaw!"
"Shush. This little demonstration was meant to give you a sense for lesson number three: it's only a secret if everyone who knows it is dead!"
The professor flicked his wand and the words appeared on the board in barely legible writing. An asterix curiously followed the last word. Mortimer picked up his quill and began scribbling furiously.
"See, there are many ways to discover all of your dirty thoughts, but today we are going to focus on how it can be done using magic. Who can name the most powerful tool in the arsenal of the mind rapist?"
Melinda Malfoy's hand shot up, almost taking Mortimer's eye out.
"Yes, ferret?"
Melinda bit her lip for a moment before saying "Veritaserum, sir."
"True. Ten points to Hufflepuff." With another flick of the professor's wand, the name of the potion appeared on the board. Melinda scowled, but the professor continued before she could say anything.
"Veritaserum is an odourless, tasteless, transparent potion, and the most potent truth serum currently known. Three drops are enough to make you spill out all of your most shameful secrets. It works best on the unsuspecting, so don't expect anyone to give you an indication that they are about to slip it in your cocktail." The professor surveyed the skittish faces of the students with a smile. "While there is an antidote, it's not likely to be available to you when you'll need it most, so Occlumency is your best shot at countering it. Of course, usage of Veritaserum is regulated by the Ministry, but don't think it won't be used against you anyway. Who can tell me of another magical tool used to pluck a secret out of a person's mind?"
Mortimer raised his hand. "The Imperius, sir?"
"Mhm. The Imperius curse. The most useful of the three so-called Unforgivables curses, and the best friend of all manners of rapists, thieves, and other members of the government. More powerful than all compelling charms. Any attempt to use it on another human guarantees you a one-way ticket to Azkaban for the rest of your miserable life. Supposedly," he winked at the students, to their utter bewilderment. "The Imperius curse can force a subject to follow any order given by the caster. As such, I suppose, it can be used to force him to spill his beans, so to say. There is no known counter-curse, but it can be resisted by those with a strong will. What other form of magic can be used to eliminate one's discretion? Fawley?"
"The Cruciatus, sir," Fawley was smiling manically.
The professor paused for a moment to level a stare at the student, making a mental note to keep an eye on him. "Uh, no, that's not quite what I meant. Let's try again. Granger?"
A girl called Jenna sat straight, raising her head up high, her cheeks red. "Legilimency, sir! You used it earlier on Sylvia!"
"Indeed," Professor Potter smirked at her. "Legilimency. Some greasy idiots will tell you that it isn't quite mind-reading, but that's exactly what it means in Latin. Legilimency is a sort of spell that may be cast silently and wandlessly, and only requires eye contact between the caster and his subject. A Legilimens can observe the memories inside your mind, and can use the connections and associations between them to stir your thoughts into a particular area. Lord Voldemort was a master Legilimens, and he could even plant made-up images in your mind, make you believe that you are undergoing torture or witnessing something that isn't truly happening." The Professor paused and scowled for a moment. "Like other magics that mess with the psyche, Legilimency can be countered by Occlumency, but we'll get to that later. An easier method is to simply break eye contact, or to cast a Shield charm, but don't count on having those options when you are tied to a tree and interrogated."
The class was silent, the students gazing ahead in astonishment at how many ways magic could be used to fuck with their minds. More than that, Mortimer felt fascinated. None of the professors ever gave lectures so captivating. The professor wasn't exactly nice, but it was obvious that he knew what he was talking about.
"Professor, why is there an asterix after 'dead'?" Jenna asked.
"Ah, yes," the professor chuckled. "Well, let's just say that sometimes dead men do tell tales." He let out a short cackle. Mortimer and Melinda glanced at each other.
"Now, Occlumency. Perhaps the most difficult form of magic to master. Please raise your hand if any of you have ADHD."
At least a third of the class raised their hands. The professor sighed.
"Millennials," he mumbled, shaking his head. "Since mental focus and clarity of mind are at the core of resisting the intrusion of Legilimency, I'm afraid you don't stand much chance with the standard form of Occlumency. You can try other methods, but they are less predictable. Or you can put a Shield charm on your eyeglasses, like I do," he tapped on his glasses with his wand and smiled.
What followed next was a passionate lecture on the workings of the mind, and the ways to protect and control it. When the bell rang, cutting the lecture, Mortimer found himself disappointed that the lesson was already over.
"Well, off you go, no assignment today, except reviewing your notes. Not you, Malfoy, Burke. You stay."
It was with reproach and dread that Mortimer made his way to the front of the class, following Melinda.
"What is it, professor?" she asked. "We're going to be late to our next cla—"
"Don't play dumb, Malfoy," the professor said. "You can't make it work because it's already your natural state. You just look... grotesquely buffoonish."
Mortimer's mind raced, the words of the lecture still ringing in his ears. Was that how he caught them? Mind-reading? After all, they had used an invisibility cloak, silencing charms, and didn't tell anyone else about it. But how could he even single them out in order to pick their brains?
"Unfortunately, you will never be able to guess," Professor Potter smirked down at him, answering the unvoiced question. "Simply assume that I can see you at all times. Even in the past. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Professor Potter," Mortimer and Melinda mumbled.
"Good. Now, I'm going to give you two options. Option one, you serve as target practice while I try out a few new curses I'm in the process of developing—"
The pair of students shuddered. "We'll take option two!" said Melinda.
The professor shrugged. "Option two, you follow me to the Forbidden Forest at night, and help me catch the thing that's been hunting the unicorns."
Mortimer never thought that a Malfoy could look paler than they normally do, but Melinda proved him wrong.
A/N: Thanks for the generous reviews! If anyone would like to make fanart of Professor Potter, for the thumbnail, it would be welcome. Also, this is going to be episodic, without a particular end in mind, so you're welcome to suggest ideas.