Another chapter! I don't really have any important announcements, so I'll just get on with the story. I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: FMA (Both) and HP belong to their creators. I am not their creator.
Chapter 4: The Schools Arrive or Why Are People So Tall?
The schools would be arriving this week, on the thirty-first.
Hermione was excited about this.
There was also a partner project in Muggle Studies due this week.
She still had no clue what to think of this.
She had to work with Malfoy as they were seat partners -and the whole Malfoy being civil thing still felt very surreal, despite it being almost two months into the year-, and the project would involve multiple interactions with the blond, recently-turned-enigma.
Hermione still didn't know what caused such a drastic change in the Slytherin's behavior, but she didn't know how to ask without sounding pushy. She wouldn't be able to get away with that with Malfoy like she would if she was with Harry or Ron; she wasn't close enough to the blond teenager relationship-wise. At the moment one would call them reluctant but civil acquaintances at best.
True, Malfoy came to the joint study sessions, but he only ever joined in the discussion if he had a question that couldn't be answered by Blaise or Theo -as the boy was requesting the group call him-, so interactions were still rather minimal despite his less antagonistic actions.
Either way, she was currently waiting for Malfoy at the Quidditch Pitch. He had practice with his team in the evening, so they agreed to meet up directly after dinner was over, giving them about two hours to work before Malfoy had to go. She was sitting cross-legged on a bench in the third row, her notes were spread out on it with books and her inkwell being used as paperweights. She had gotten there early as she hadn't been very hungry, and she decided to start brainstorming.
The class had gone into a new unit. They were talking about Muggle schooling now. For the project, the students had to pick one class from the list they received at the beginning of the unit and explain at least three ways it would be applied in the muggle world. They would be turning their findings in the day the schools arrive and presenting their findings the next time they have class. They would be graded based on a rubric given out the day the project was assigned.
They were allowed to mention other classes, but the class they chose had to be the main topic. For example, if someone chose English, they could combine foreign language classes and use the example of an English teacher in a foreign country. She and Malfoy had agreed to do Chemistry, a good choice considering how many sciences were connected to it in some way.
When they told Professor Hughes, he gave them the okay, but then made an announcement to the class.
"To those who chose Chemistry, you are not allowed to include Alchemy in your explanations, for while it is used in the muggle world, it's only well known in one country alongside the magical world; it would give those in Professor Elric's class too much of an advantage over others as well."
That made things a little more difficult, but not by much. She made sure she had a few ideas to bring up with Malfoy when the meeting time came so they could get started right away.
Speaking of Malfoy, she noticed her fellow fourth year had just arrived and was moving towards her position; she noticed he was already in Quidditch garb. Hermione checked the clock, he was a few minutes early. Oh well, it was more time to work on the project.
"Granger." he nodded as he placed the books he brought down on the ground next to the bench next to him and placed a roll of parchment and ink in front of him. She noticed one of the books was the alchemy textbook.
She asked about it, and he answered with, "The first few chapters are full of Chemistry. Even if we can't use Alchemy, I thought it would be useful."
Hermione had not thought of that.
The two began to work discussing ideas of how muggles would use Chemistry in the real world. Malfoy had brought his own list of ideas, so the two had quite a bit to work with. They only needed three examples, but it wouldn't hurt to use more.
"Granger."
Hermione looked up from one of the lists she was making. She was listing the ways each example was important. Malfoy was doing the same with his list, and they would look over their findings afterward to decide which examples to use; however, Malfoy had stopped writing, staring at his parchment in thought.
"Do you need Alchemy to create alloys?"
She paused, guessing where this was going, "No. There is a process that was invented during a period known as the Industrial Revolution -an event beginning in the mid-eighteenth century in England-; the Bessemer process allowed for the mass production of steel. Some other alloys Professor Elric mentioned are cast iron, titanium, bronze, brass, rose and white gold, and sterling silver to name a few, and you do not need Alchemy to create them; you merely need the right tools and machines."
Malfoy nodded to show he understood and wrote some of the information down. He had remembered the lesson on alloys. Professor Elric had actually taught them that last lesson.
Hermione had asked what the Professor's specialty was because she remembered the book mentioning in the prologue how since Alchemy was so hard to learn, Alchemists specialized in specific types of Alchemy.
Professor Elric had raised an eyebrow at the question before she placed the chalk down and faced the class. Besides Hermione, nobody except a two Ravenclaws and Blaise Zabini seemed to know why the question was asked.
"From the looks on your faces, I can only assume nobody read the prologue." she commented blandly, earning many embarrassed looks and mumbles, "Alchemists tend to specialize in certain areas of Alchemy, as the subject's difficult to learn, and has a large variety of different types as well. One of my fellow Alchemists specializes in flame Alchemy, a very specialized, but very difficult area of expertise. I am proficient in multiple fields of Alchemy, and that was an important part of why I was hired for this job; however, my specialty is metals. I am particularly skilled in creating and using alloys -metals made of two or more metallic elements."
That lead to the quick lesson on alloys. It was a very fast-paced, but to-the-point lesson because they needed to get back to the original lesson, calculating the energy involved in performing chemical reactions.
Malfoy shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He needed to focus on Muggle Studies. He scribbled down some more words before he noticed Hermione staring at him, "What is it, Granger?"
The bushy-haired girl blushed in embarrassment at being caught and mumbled, "You've been acting... different. It's not bad... I was just wondering what changed."
"If by 'different', you mean less offensive and rude..." Malfoy paused a moment to think on his next words, "You could say that I have had a wake-up call of sorts over the summer and wished to change my behavior. Don't expect me to be all friendly and fun with you, Granger, but... I will try to be... nicer."
Hermione didn't pry further, feeling that was as much as she would get out of him. The two continued the project, getting the entire paper portion done before the Slytherin team got to the Quidditch Pitch. The two agreed to meet again in two days at the same time to work on their presentation and parted ways to continue with their routines.
While Malfoy went to practice, Hermione made her way to the Gryffindor Common Room. She was thinking about what sort of wake-up call would cause such a drastic change in behavior when she crashed into someone turning a corner.
Hermione found herself flat on her back, stunned; she hadn't seen that coming, literally. Was she really so far into her thoughts? She pushed herself into a sitting position, rubbing her poor tailbone that took the brunt of the fall, and began collecting her things that fell from her hands.
"Sorry," she muttered, embarrassed once again, "I wasn't looking where I was going."
Now that she thought of it, who had she bumped into?
Hermione looked over and saw Professor Elric collecting her own armload of items. The blonde looked over, her eye still holding that same bland look she always had.
"It is alright." she said, "I, myself, was also not paying attention to my surroundings. I hope I didn't hurt you too much with that collision?"
"I'm alright." Hermione assured, "Here, let me help." and she assisted the Professor in collecting the very large pile of books, "Where were you headed? I can help you carry these."
"Oh," the professor blinked, a little off guard, "You don't need to..."
"I insist." Hermione said, "I did make you drop all of these, it's only fair that I help carry them."
Professor Elric was silent for a moment, contemplating, before she spoke again, "Very well, Miss Granger, but as I also made you drop your own load. I feel I should also do something for you as well. Equivalent exchange."
The blonde thought for a moment as they walked, "Perhaps a piece of... what is the word... advice. You are an inquisitive person, yes?"
Hermione reddened slightly, "I am certainly fond of gaining new knowledge..." she stuttered. Was she so easy to read? Probably. It's not like she hid her bookishness."
"Then it is settled. I am first going to the Muggle Studies classroom in order to drop off a few of these. Maes has asked me to bring some books from the library earlier today. The rest is for some light reading."
Hermione looked to the Professor, "Maes is Professor Hughes's first name?"
"Yes."
"I take it you two are close?"
"Yes." Professor Elric nodded, "I have known him for a few years, now. He is a good man. You are in his class, correct? I have seen you there if I recall correctly."
"You have," Hermione confirms.
The two walk on in silence before they reach the classroom.
The Professor nudges the door open with her foot and stands aside as Hermione walks through before gently kicking it closed.
Professor Hughes was at his desk. He'd lost the crutches, but he had a long way to go before he was back to full strength. He currently was just sitting, spaced out and like he was in a different world altogether.
Professor Elric, guessing what he was thinking about, sighed and began the process of getting his attention, "Maes."
No response, "Maes."
Nothing, "Maes Hughes."
Still nothing, she sighed again, placed the books down, gesturing for Hermione to do the same before she looked to the left, adopted a look of false shock, put a hand to her cheek and pointed with another, and cried out, "OH MY GOODNESS! A BOY IS FLIRTING WITH ELICIA!"
That snapped him out of it. He jumped up like the chair was made of coals, pulled a gun from his pocket and with a vigor that Hermione hadn't seen before, looked around with the aura of an overprotective dad yelling, "WHAT!? WHERE!? PAPA'S COMING ELICIA! WHERE'S THIS BOY!?"
The blonde professor returned to her usual deadpan expression and said, "There is no boy. I was trying to get your attention. We have brought you the books that you requested."
Professor Hughes blinked in surprise, "Oh." he looked to the two neat stacks of books, "Oh. Thanks." he began removing the ones he requested, and turned to see Hermione standing a little awkwardly to the side, looking more than a little off guard, "Miss Granger? Did you have a question?"
"She helped me bring the books here." Professor Elric explained, "If she has a question for you, though..." she looked to the lone student, who started at the attention.
"I don't at the moment, Professor Hughes... Actually..." she bit her lip, thinking for a moment before asking, "If it's not too personal, who is Elicia?"
The man blinked again in surprise before he smiled warmly, "She's my daughter, a little angle." his smile turned wistful, "She's the sweetest little child a parent could ask for."
He took out the photograph he had of her birthday and showed it to Hermione, "Isn't she adorable?"
Hermione blinked, "Y-yes." she stuttered, "She's very adorable."
Hughes looked like he was going to continue, but Professor Elric cleared her throat loudly, causing him to deflate with a pout, "Alright, Juna, alright. I'll stop... for now."
That earned him an unimpressed stare and a raised eyebrow.
Hermione blinked, "... Juna?"
"That is my first name." Professor Elric answered before she remembered, "I believe I was going to give you a piece of advice. Care to walk with me to my classroom? I need to take the rest of the books there, anyways."
Hermione nodded numbly as she picked up one of the leftover stacks. The dynamic between these two Professors was very different outside of class. Professor Elric was so much more open, and Professor Hughes was so much more... eccentric? He tended to remain professional during classes, though he was a little more relaxed and laid back then most teachers. His classes tended to be like Flitwicks in that they had many practical demonstrations, and the lesson was always turned almost into a game of sorts.
After bidding Professor Hughes a good evening, the two bookworms continued their journey to the Alchemy classroom. The walk was once again in silence, and neither was quite socially adept enough to break the ice a second time.
They arrived quickly and headed to the office. Hermione took a moment to realize she'd never actually been in the shorter Professor's office before she stepped in.
The room was simple and not overly personalized. There was a desk at the end of the room with an armchair behind it. There was a coffee table in the center of the room with a couch on each side, likely for anyone else that comes in. There was a fireplace burning merrily with bookshelves on each side filled with books both familiar and foreign, most having to do with Alchemy or Science in general. Hermione hadn't known so many books on the supposedly lost art existed!
It was humbling to see so much knowledge on a topic in one place.
There was a window behind the desk giving a lovely view of the grounds, and there was a door -likely leading to the Professor's living quarters- on the one empty wall that was closed. There was only one photograph on the coffee table. It showed Professor Elric with a boy that looked like a male copy of her and a suit of armor standing behind them. They were outside with farm fields stretching extensively in the background. The two blonds in the picture were smiling and laughing, covered in grass and dirt as if they had just been rolling around play-fighting on the ground.
Hermione set down her load next to Professor Elric's on the coffee table and stared at the photograph in stunned silence. Professor Elric had left to get something, leaving the bushy-haired brunette to her own devices.
Professor Elric looked so relaxed and laid back in the photograph. One of her arms was around the boy's shoulders, the boy repeating the action on her. She still had the eyepatch, but she was wearing a t-shirt and loose shorts without shoes, and Hermione gasped when she noticed something about the girl in the photograph.
Her limbs were made of metal.
At that moment, as if summoned by Hermione's thoughts, Professor Elric entered the room with a tray in her hands.
She set the items down onto the coffee table, "I have some tea if you want any. Help yourself to the biscuits at well, they're particularly delicious today." she looked up and noticed Hermione wasn't paying attention, "Miss Granger? Is something the matter? You look pale."
The words came before she could stop them, "You have metal limbs?" she stuttered out with a voice pitched higher with shock and almost-hysteria.
The Alchemy Professor blinked before realizing where Hermione was looking. She didn't answer, just took off her gloves and rolled up her pant legs. She took off her eyepatch as well, allowing her automail eye to open properly for the first time in weeks.
"Automail." she explained, "Metal prosthetics that connect to the person's nerves, allowing them to move as easily as any limb. They are very helpful, though I can't feel with them. Winter and rain are always annoying, though; the skin where the ports connect becomes red and painful."
"... Ports?" Hermione's voice only got more hysterical.
Professor Elric rolls up one of the pant legs to above the knee, showing the area where skin meets metal.
"We didn't come here to discuss my lack of flesh limbs, though. I don't like pity, Miss Granger, so I tend to cover them. Have some tea?"
Hermione took the offered cup and a biscuit, taking a sip and a bite while looking at the Professor inquiringly.
The blonde was still calm and poised as ever. It was as if she hadn't just revealed herself to have most of her body made of metal. Comparing this person to the laughing, laid-back one in the photograph was rather surreal.
Professor Elric took a sip of her own cup before putting it down and giving Hermione her signature stare. The girl tried very hard not to shift in discomfort, as the stare was very unnerving without the automail eye added to the mix, let alone with it.
"I have had you in my class for two months, Miss Granger." she began, "You are very bright like your other Professors have said."
The girl in question's face lit up at the praise.
"However, I have noticed some things in your assignments that I feel limit your understanding."
Hermione blinked, confused. What was she doing wrong?
"When a Professor reads a student's work, they don't have the time to pick apart every word if they want to return the essays in a timely manner. We skim through, looking for keywords and phrases to see if you understand the topic. We do this for fifty essays or so before we come across yours. It is beautifully written, but it's at least twice the length of other essays. While this isn't automatically a bad thing, the problem is that you overcrowd the parchment with so many details and references that it is overwhelming. It is too much."
The bushy-haired girl looks down, feeling unsure how to take this. She'd never really been criticized for this sort of thing before; even Harry and Ron never really brought it up. Only Snape ever really got close, calling her a 'Know-it-all'. Is that what he means? She's doing too much?
She feels a weight on her shoulder, and a glint of metal shows it was Professor Elric's hand.
"Please look up Miss Granger."
Hermione does, meeting the golden pool that was Professor Elric's eye.
"I am not saying you should hold back your intelligence, but I believe all Professors would prefer if you condensed the information a little. Read over your work to see if there are any phrases or sentences that are going off-topic or are going too far beyond the detail we ask for."
Hermione frowns a little further, "But... how would I know how far is too far? I've always written like this."
Professor Elric remains silent for a moment, Hermione lets her think, "I have an idea. Do any of your Professors give rubrics?"
"Rubrics?" she blinks, "As in the grading rubrics they use in muggle schools?" Professor Elric nods, and Hermione shakes her head, "The Professors don't really give those. Professor Hughes has given us one for his project, though."
The blonde blinks, "So for the past four years there haven't been many guidelines for you on how much is too little or too much. Perhaps a rubric would be helpful for you. I could make a general rubric for you if you would like. You would be able to use it for multiple classes."
That caused Hermione to start in surprise, "But, I wouldn't want to add too much to your schedule..."
"Nonsense," Professor Elric waves her off, "It is not like I have to discover the meaning of life. I can make you a rubric and get it to you by the end of this week. Until then, try to apply the advice. Is that alright with you?"
Hermione doesn't know what to say, her mouth is opening and closing like a fish, and no sound is coming out. She sighs, feeling she won't be able to stop the Professor and nods.
"Very well, then." the blonde says, "Feel free to take another biscuit."
The two continue drinking their tea and begin talking about less important things. Hermione asks Juna what sort of books she liked reading for leisure, and occasionally recommended a book she thought the Professor would like. In return, Professor Elric did the same; though, she recommended some good resources she found in the library for certain classes.
"You didn't strike me as the type to read mysteries," Hermione commented, "Have you ever read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories?"
"There is a translated version back home; though, I am curious what the stories are like in their mother tongue. I feel certain things were lost in the translation. Agatha Christie is also a good writer; though, I've only found her books here."
"I actually just started reading her books over the summer! I've brought Murder on the Orient Express if you haven't read it yet and would like to borrow."
"I have read the book already and enjoyed it quite thoroughly. Perhaps I will take you up on your offer at some point if I wish to re-read it. Also, I was looking through the library earlier this week and found a Potions theory book. It explains the different ingredients and how they react to each other very well. It may help your friends out as well, I've heard from Severus that they tend to struggle in Potions."
"Really? What is the book called?"
"It is named A Breakdown of Potions and the Ingredients Behind Them written by your Professor, Severus Snape."
"Oh?" that caught Hermione's interest, "I hadn't realized he wrote a book!"
"It is actually not very old compared to most magical texts. Severus is currently the youngest Potions Master to achieve the title and had written the book to do so. It is like a thesis for a college student to give a rough comparison. He became a Potions Master around the age of twenty -and a Professor soon after-, so the book has been there for roughly fifteen to sixteen years."*
"I never knew this! I should take a look at that book." Hermione quickly began rummaging in her bag for parchment and ink when she was paused by Professor Elric. She handed the bushy-haired girl a slip of parchment that already had the title of the book on it.
She thanked the blonde and bid her a good evening, deciding it was time to return to her common room.
That was quite fun, Hermione smiled, she hoped that wasn't the last time she'd be able to talk to the Professor not as student and teacher, but as people who share common interests.
...
The week passed quickly, Juna had gotten the rubric to Hermione as promised, and the brunette did her best to compress her knowledge into fewer words. She still had to reread her essays, not quite at the point where she could judge what was far enough on the fly, but Juna had heard from the teachers that the change in length was already noticeable.
Harry was also getting some commentary in the teacher's lounge. The Professors had noticed his increased work ethic, and many were quite proud of him. Even Snape had less snide comments, and the Potions Professor had begun treating the boy with less hostility. The same could be said for Neville.
Malfoy's behavior was also a shock to the entire student body, and lead to many rumors as to what could have caused such a drastic change. Only Hermione knew anything, and she remained tight-lipped about the meager knowledge she had.
However, the thing that caused the most excitement, gossip, and anxiety was a simple fact that the foreign schools would be arriving that evening. Most of the professors were running around doing last-minute preparations and trying to get everything absolutely perfect, which was a rather amusing sight for some.
Throughout the week, McGonagall and Snape could often be found on the verge of pointing wands at each other as they argued about the most trivial things like what order the Houses would be standing in, or how many banners should be hung in the Great Hall, or if the suits of armor were properly polished. Sprout would often be close by and ready to mediate. If she wasn't around, the two would be found being forcefully separated by Professor Elric and Hughes, who would then proceed to find the Head of Hufflepuff.
Honestly, that woman must have the patience of a saint! Some students had even collaborated and made a "Sprout Appreciation Present", and gave it to the kind professor the morning of the foreign schools' arrivals. It was a gift the woman accepted with joy.
As classes ended early that day, there were many happy students, especially those who had Snape as their last class, as the man had threatened to poison the students to test their antidotes.
He was actually using some rats, but they didn't need to know that. He had a reputation to keep up!
Now the students were all standing on the grounds; the first years were in front and seventh years were in the back. The professors stood off to the side, flanking Dumbledore.
Juna stood patiently, looking almost still enough to be a statue as she waited for the inevitable arrival of the schools.
As she was on the edge of the line of professors and was the closest to the position of the students, she got the chance to overhear the many theories of how the schools would be arriving.
It still weirded her out how magical people used such strange methods of transportation. Who just looks at a burning fire and a bunch of sparkle-dust and thinks "Oh wow! This will be an amazing way to travel!"
Why? Just WHY?
She snapped to attention when she heard Dumbledore mention the arrival of the French school. She believed it was called Beauxbatons?
Some students began theorizing what was approaching. A kid, his last name was Collin Creevy if she recalled -he was in her third-year class- claimed it was a flying house, and he wasn't too far off the mark.
It was a gigantic, blue carriage pulled by enormous palomino pegasi. In the back of her mind, Juna wondered how much food it took to feed those huge beasts. Then the door opened and out came a woman whose height was only rivaled by Hagrid! Dumbledore didn't even have to bend much to kiss her hand. Juna felt her eyebrow twitch slightly; where could she get some height? Among the Hogwarts Staff, the only ones she was taller than were Flitwick (who had goblin blood), and Sprout (who was not much taller than an average first year).
They should be grateful Ed wasn't nearby. He didn't have nearly as much restraint as she did. The thought made her miss her brother's rants towards Mustang.
She and her students, who were not dressed for the weather, went inside. Juna was glad she'd had her regular automail switched out for the winter version recently, for the temperatures had, indeed, been decreasing, and causing her ports extreme discomfort. She worshipped the reusable heating pads she'd brought with her on her mission, and had two or three around each port with one under her eyepatch.
She wondered if France was warm year-long. The thin, silk uniforms were definitely not meant for cold weather, unlike the Hogwarts uniform that had thick, warm cloaks for winter use.
Durmstrang came not long after via a ghostship that rose from the lake. It didn't look nearly as friendly as the powdered blue carriage, but it was just as grand and magnificent. The headmaster, followed by his students walked up to Dumbledore to greet the old man. One student named Viktor Krum seemed to cause many Hogwarts students to have some sort of midlife crisis through his existence alone as they scrambled for some sort of writing material.
She wondered what that was about, but then decided she'd rather remain oblivious to avoid a mass reaction. Well... further mass reaction.
With all the schools there, Dumbledore led the school back into the Great Hall, welcoming the two schools to sit wherever they would like. Beauxbatons chose the Ravenclaw table, while Durmstrang chose the Slytherin table, to the chagrin of the other houses.
Seriously, who was this Krum kid? Was he famous or something?
The two headmasters chose their seats at the head table; she ended up directly between them, somehow.
Apparently, she's not what they expected of a Professor, for she sits down and the next thing she knows, Karkaroff is giving her a side glance, frowning. He didn't hesitate to begin his interrogation as soon as Dumbledore finished his announcements and introduced the wooden goblet of mysterious blue fire. The moment food appeared on the table, he turned his attention to her and began to speak.
"If I may be so rude as to ask, why," he pauses for dramatic effect, "is a child sitting among the Professors?"
That catches the attention of some nearby teachers, Snape, Hughes, and Flitwick in particular. Snape looks amused and curious how she would respond to the barbs, Hughes is prepared to be entertained as he knows Juna's conversations can get interesting if she's in a joking mood, and Flitwick looks slightly indignant. All the Professors of Hogwarts knew not to question the girl's credibility, for she knew what she was doing in her field of expertise.
Juna turns to the man, "I am a Professor, sir, and this is the seat I have chosen to sit in." she levels her most bland stare at him, "I am Juna Elric, Hogwarts's Alchemy Professor."
"Alchemy?" the man exclaims as if the thought is most preposterous. Madame Maxime is also tuned in to the conversation now, and listens as her fellow Headmaster continues, "That was a dead art last I heard."
"Perhaps around here it is considered one. But back home, I assure you it most certainly is not."
"I see. And why would Dumbledore hire a child and not an older, more experienced alchemist?"
That question almost got a physical reaction out of her, she felt amusement rising up in her chest. Hughes, who was less reserved, laughed and responded, "That is likely because Juna here is one of the most skilled alchemists currently available. Many spend their entire lives trying to master one branch of alchemy, but Juna is skilled in multiple fields and has practiced alchemy for just about her whole life. You don't get a much better deal when it comes to teaching alchemy, for not everyone has the same specialty."
"And you are?"
"I am Maes Hughes. I am the Muggle Studies Professor." Hughes responded with his usual friendly smile plastered onto his face.
"A pleasure..." the look on his face showed that Karkaroff definitely didn't think that, "You seem to know this child."
Juna refrained from showing her thoughts, but inwardly she was growing annoyed. That was the third time the old man had called her a child in the last few minutes, and dinner had just started.
"I do know her. She's my fellow colleague, and we have known each other for a few years before we became teachers here. She knows her craft."
"Forgive me if I still have doubts."
She gave the man an unimpressed eyebrow raise, "I can not tell you how to think, but I would not be teaching if I did not know what I was doing. Please refrain from insulting my intelligence, sir."
Juna tuned out the man's indignant sputtering and turned to the giantess on her other side, "You have questions."
"Yes," her accent made understanding her a little difficult for the Alchemist, who had only been speaking the language for a few months, "I have been wondering how you would know more alchemy than someone who has practiced the art far into their elder years."
Juna contemplated the question, "I would say it's a combination of circumstances. Many alchemists don't start learning alchemy until later in their lives. My brothers and I took interest in it and began to learn the skills as soon as we learned to read. Our home held many alchemical texts, so we grew up reading from them. It is said that people learn best when they are young, and my siblings and I were prodigies in alchemy, so we learned faster than most."
"I see..." her hands were folded primly in front of her, and she looked every bit the attentive listener, "I am afraid my knowledge in Alchemy is lacking, for here it is, indeed, a dead art. Would my pupils, by any chance, be able to sit in on your classes?"
Juna thought about it, "I would not be opposed to it. However, the class is challenging and hard to follow if one doesn't understand the basics of certain concepts, and we have already learned many of these concepts in the classroom. If I may provide a packet of reference materials that could be found in the Library?"
"That is much appreciated."
The two discussed many things throughout the evening. Juna learned that Madame Maxime was very fond of the Abraixans that pulled the carriage and that she was the one to breed them. That led to a little story about how Juna had grown up in a small farming village, and how she occasionally went to her neighbor's farm with her siblings and helped care for the horses when she was little. Sometimes they would get a chance to ride them, and Ed had once flown off his horse into a haystack when the excitable creature had gotten excited and jumped over the fence into the grazing field. He wasn't hurt, thankfully, and Juna and Al hadn't let the boy live it down for weeks afterward.
When the desserts finally disappeared, the two had started a debate about whether cake or tart was better, and both were getting rather into it.
The two bid each other goodnight and went their separate ways, Maxime heading to the door to meet her pupils, and Juna joining Hughes waiting for the crowd to thin.
Hughes asked how her conversation with the headmistress went, and Juna responded, "It was nice. Madame Maxime is pleasant company."
"I noticed, that's probably the most I've heard you talk about anything other than alchemy so far around here. It's nice to see you coming out of your shell."
There was a small warmth that Juna felt when the man said that. She felt her lips twitch up into a small smile. It felt good. She wondered if this was what it was like to have a father that was there for you.
"...Thanks."
She felt the need to say it, but she could only get out the first word.
She wanted to thank him for everything; for being there when the siblings needed a place to stay that one night with McDougal, for keeping his doors open for them afterward, for being so kind to the three siblings, for inviting them to Elicia's birthday, for feeding them, for helping them when they felt down, for making sure they had a home.
Honestly, the man was too kind.
She remembered how one time when Ed and Al were off following a lead, she had a nightmare, more vivid and terrible than most, and she'd woken up in a haze, unsure if she was still dreaming or not. She'd just gotten out of bed, stumbling, and just felt the need to get out and find someone.
Her feet took her to the Hughes residence, and when the man saw her, he had quietly led her into the house, sat her on the couch, and gave her a cup of warm milk.** Afterward, he just sat with her, an arm wrapped protectively over her shoulders, pulling her towards him in a sideways hug. Gracia had come down a few minutes later and sat with them, running gentle fingers through silky blonde locks just like Mom had done when Juna was a little girl, and Juna cried. She sobbed, shoulders shaking and hiccups racking her small body. She cried herself to sleep and woke up the next day laying down on the couch with a warm blanket on top of her.
That was the first and only time she had broken down in front of the Hughes. She felt she encroached too much on their hospitality already. She had avoided the house for a week out of guilt before Hughes had practically begged her to come over. Elicia had been wondering where her favorite kinda-sorta-sister went.
Juna shook herself out of her thoughts and bid the man goodnight. He did the same, giving her flesh shoulder a gentle squeeze as he walked off to his room.
Juna began her own treck through the halls, walking quickly because she needed to oil her automail before bed, and there were some notes she wanted to write down before she went to bed. 'Some' meaning around half a notebook's worth.
She entered, vaguely aware that Micky had recently tidied up the room, as the desk chair was neatly pushed in, and her bedsheets didn't look clumsily made like they did when she made them this morning, and the laundry she left was now clean and likely back in the provided wardrobe.
The whole process of cleaning her automail was tedious. She had to remove the plates of metal that covered the wires, pick out any dirt that got in there, oil the joints, then oil the plating, then reattach the plates and repeat on the other limbs. The eye was the most unpleasant, as it was smaller, and she had to remove it to properly oil it. Luckily it didn't really get dirt in it when she wore her eyepatch, so it was usually just oiling on the tiny piece of metal and wires.
Afterward, she cleaned up and wrote in her notebook until the clock struck eleven, and she put the notebook away and went to sleep.
The next day was filled with excitement. Students were talking about how they entered their names in, and those ineligible were excited to see who would be picked.
She'd also caught wind of the rather remarkable beards some of the students had sprouted -apparently, the Weasly twins had Dumbledore's vote for "finest beards".
She decided it was better not to ask.
She was lucky that she was known as a strict teacher. The students in her class didn't slack on their work during the period they had her. She had handed one of the Beauxbatons girls a slip of parchment listing different references in the library along with the times she had classes as she had promised, telling her that anyone who was interested in sitting in on her class was recommended to look through the resources for some prior understanding of the subject. She also mentioned that they were free to come to her if they ever had questions or interest in pursuing the subject.
The girl thanked her and began to share the information with her fellow classmates. She provided the same offers to those of Durmstrang after gaining the permission of Karkaroff at breakfast, saying it was only fair that she shares her knowledge with any who are interested if Alchemy was really such a dead art here. He grudgingly agreed.
That afternoon twelve of the foreign students approached her and expressed their interest in sitting in on her class. She leads them to her office and handed each of them a small packet of vocabulary and practice problems to go along with their reference reading, informing them of her Saturday Study Sessions -or S.S.S.s as the students had started calling them-, and told them the three places she was usually found if they needed her: her office, the library, or Professor Hughes's classroom.
Six from Beauxbatons and six from Durmstrang. That was not a lot, but she wasn't expecting a large turnout.
The evening came quickly, and soon the goblet would be choosing its participants for the Tournament. Juna would admit she was curious who would be picked.
Dinner seemed to go slowly, but it may have just been the palpable anticipation and impatience in the air. Dumbledore seemed to be the only one unaffected by the tense air flowing through the room and took his time eating.
Finally, the time came for the goblet to choose. Everyone watched as the blue flames turned a beautiful red, spitting out a piece of parchment that Dumbledore caught.
It was Fleur Decalour, the champion of Beauxbatons. She seemed to be popular among the male population, and she looked resigned to this but kept her head up as she walked past the head table and into the side room.
Next came Durmstrang's champion, Viktor Krum. Seriously, why was everyone going so crazy about him? He looked like a good kid, if a bit grumpy, and he didn't walk with the air of someone who was important, so why did everyone here seem to almost worship him? It was like the whole Harry Potter thing she read about in the debriefing. The kid looked like your average, awkward teenager that just wanted to live life and be normal. And yet the kid was famous for his parents dying for him to live. She wondered what this Krum kid's story was.
The Hogwarts chosen champion was Cedric Diggory, who was cheered on by everyone. He was in her class and was quite nice. He was a good kid, and he was smart. She just hoped he was ready for a life-threatening tournament. Dumbledore was about to leave when the goblet turned red a fourth time, spitting out a final piece of parchment.
"... Harry Potter."
Juna's blood goes cold.
That's it for this chapter! Don't be afraid to comment on your thoughts if you notice something you like or feel could be improved. I know the last few chapters have been slow to come, so I was trying to get this one out faster, and since I had a day off today I thought, "why not finish the chapter?" I hope you liked it, and thank you for reading!
*: Most of this is completely thought up. However, timeline-wise, Snape was born in 1960 and became Potions Professor in 1981 after Slughorn retired. That makes him twenty-one when he takes the position. He dies in 1998 at the age of thirty-eight in book seven, so I put his age around thirty-four to thirty-five in the fourth book. The book Juna referenced was made up. I wanted him to write something informative (unlike Lockhart) before he became Professor as a way of showing credibility, so I put him down as publishing it a year before he becomes a teacher. That would make it fifteen to sixteen years old depending on the month it was published. Also, I know people call the Potions Professor title 'Potions Master', but I wanted to make them two separate things. I feel Potions Master is a title while Potions Professor is a job. I don't really know how else to explain it.
**Juna did not inherit the same hatred of milk as Ed. She will drink it if it is offered, but it isn't her favorite drink.