I own nothing but the plot, and not even all of that.
For the entirety of the first week back at school, all anyone could seem to talk about was the Defense Against the Dark Arts class and it's new professor. Half of the school seemed to be in one camp of opinions about the man and the other half in another.
The first camp was of the opinion that Lockhart was a great wizard who had done some amazing things and was now at Hogwarts to teach them all about it.
The other camp was distrustful of the man, and believed he had either made all of his stories up entirely, or at least had exaggerated them beyond recognition. The main issue this camp had was his way of speaking every sentence as if he were accepting an award.
Many Gryffindors were enamored with the adventurous nature of his tales, and loved his recreations. In class, he would tell of one of his adventures and allow one of the students to play the part of the hero, while Lockhart played the part of whatever creature he was lecturing about. He would have probably lost a lot of his supporters had he taught with the roles reversed.
The Ravenclaws were loyal to their former housemate, and respected the knowledge that he freely gave to anyone who asked. They were less than impressed with the eagerness he displayed at jumping into situations headfirst, but conceded that at least he had accomplished a lot by doing it.
Hufflepuffs were generally not fans of his boastful nature, and felt that anyone who had to tell you how great they are probably aren't that great. They found themselves in an unlikely alliance with the Slytherins, who were, by tradition, rooting against the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The Slytherins were the source of many of the rumors that began circulating that Lockhart was all talk and that that he'd faked everything he wrote.
On the whole, though, the general feeling about Lockhart was positive. Many, even in the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw camp had taken a wait and see attitude.
In Friday's Transfiguration class, there was a much more hesitant feel about the lesson than was usual.
"I'm sorry, Professor, but could you repeat that?" Neville had asked. Trevor the toad was sitting on his desk, and was not the only pet in attendance. Professor McGonagall had asked any student with a pet at Hogwarts to bring it to class to use in a lesson, as her supply of project animals was running low.
"I said, Mr. Longbottom," the Transfiguration teacher repeated, "that we will be learning how to turn animals into water goblets."
"Why?" asked Draco Malfoy. His eagle owl, Purity, was perched on his desk, looking with hungry interest at several of the rodent pets in the room.
"I beg your pardon?" said McGonagall, offended that her lesson was being questioned.
"I mean, why?" asked Draco. "Just… why? What's the point of turning an animal into a water goblet? Just in case your having a dinner party and find you're one goblet short, you can say 'Hand me that rat,' and fix the problem?"
"I do not care for your attitude, Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said, sternly. Harry however, glanced at Hedwig and found himself agreeing with Malfoy for the first time ever.
"Now," she said, "vertebrate to inanimate object transfiguration is much more difficult than the invertebrate to inanimate object exercises we worked on last year. Everyone pay attention, please."
She turned to a black raven that was perched on a stand in the center of the classroom. She pointed her wand at the bird.
"One, two, three… Vera Verto," she said. The bird started to give off a startled squawk, which was cut off as the bird was transformed into a elegant water goblet. Several students felt somewhat queezy as they recognized the pattern on the goblet as being the same as the goblet they drank their morning juice from with their breakfast that morning.
Hedwig, who was watching the demonstration intently, cocked her head and looked straight at Professor McGonagall. The owl maintained eye contact with the professor for precisely three heartbeats before spreading her wings and exiting through a window. Purity decided Hedwig was an incredibly wise bird and soon followed. The rest of the birds in the classroom were thwarted from their escape attempts by McGonagall's wand, which she used to close and lock the window.
"The two of you will have to borrow a hedgehog for today's lesson," Professor McGonagall said to Harry and Draco. The two boys glanced at each other in an awkward, almost friendly way as they each grabbed a hedgehog from a box at the front of the classroom. They even exchanged a small smile as they silently acknowledged the wisdom and speed of each other's pets.
On Saturday morning, Harry, Hermione, and Neville were sitting in the Gryffindor common room after breakfast, studying and finishing their homework. Harry was going to be spending the day in Jedi training with Toma, so the friends were enjoying the time together as they got their work done. Ginny Weasley was curled up in a large, cushioned chair by the fireplace, writing in her diary and stealing glances at Harry. Ron who would normally be trying to wheedle a game of chess out of someone, was nowhere to be found.
"I don't understand it," Hermione said. "He was fine at the end of last year. He had pulled his grades up, and was even a large part of the group that helped to save Daphne."
Harry, remembering the counseling sessions the Jedi used to help those who had to engage in active operations cope with the mental trauma of combat, was suddenly struck with a thought.
"Hermione," he said, softly, "did anyone ever talk with you about that fight?"
"What do you mean?" she asked, puzzled.
"I mean," explained Harry, "did anyone sit down with you and go through the actions you took? To help you make sense of it, and understand that you did the right thing?"
"You mean a counseling session," Hermione answered. "Mum did. She's a dentist , but she's taken a lot of courses on helping people cope with trauma. Mostly because it helps her deal with patients with a lot of anxiety about visiting a dentist, but it certainly helped me, too. We didn't have to try and find a therapist who knows about magic, or try to mix the story up so it didn't sound like magic."
"What are you two talking about?" asked Neville, who was totally lost.
"That's what I'm afraid of," said Harry. "I don't think anyone's talked to Ron about this at all. He sliced a man's arm off with a laser sword, and I think they just patted him on the head and said 'Have a good summer.'"
"You don't think they really did that," asked Hermione, "do you Harry?"
"I don't think they understand the concept of mental health at all," answered Harry. "I'll talk with Toma about it today," he said, "and we'll see what we can do. If he's been thinking about it all summer, that could easily explain the change in his mood. It's probably eating away at him."
"I don't understand," said Neville. "He did the right thing."
"Of course he did, Neville," said Hermione. "That's not the problem."
"The problem," Harry explained, "is that doing something like cutting someone's arm off in combat, even if it's the right thing to do, can affect your mind. Your conscience starts playing games, making you second guess all the actions you took. It makes you think about any actions you could have taken if you had only known what you know now. That's why the Jedi always debrief those involved in combat with a trained healer. Wizards probably do that too in professions that see combat, but I'm guessing no one thought to do that with Ron."
"I hope he's going to be ok," said Neville.
"Given time, he'll probably get over it on his own," said Harry, "especially he doesn't have to do it again. I'm going to check with Toma, though, just in case."
Toma agreed to bring up Harry's concerns about Ron with Dumbledore the next time they met. The Master and Padawan had decided to take advantage of the nice weather and took their training outdoors. It was as good a time as any to fulfill his promise to Dumbledore about Harry's lightsaber, so they engaged in some lightsaber exercises in the courtyard. In full sight of everyone, Harry used the brilliant green blade that he normally carried as a spare in his mokeskin pouch . He would have to start thinking of it as his main lightsaber now, given Voldemort's continued interest in the stone.
They were running through some parry drills and had attracted a lot of attention. It wasn't nearly as exciting as the exhibition duel the students had witnessed with Master Amani last year, but the flashing of the lightsabers still drew a crowd. Harry tried to ignore the watching students. These were drills he had practiced times beyond counting. The trick was to not concentrate. Concentrating on the movements meant you were performing the movement. You were supposed to let go of yourself and surrender your movements to the Force. Harry was feeling the Force flowing through him as the green blades flashed back and forth, parry, strike, parry, return, disturbance.
Like a pebble thrown into a pool of water, Harry was suddenly aware of an anomaly in the Force. A swelling from behind him! Without pausing for thought, Harry surrendered his will to the Force. His hands and arms moved without him willing them to, angling his lightsaber to intercept the stinging hex Theodore Nott had aimed at the Jedi's back.
With a flash and a zap, the spell ricocheted off the emerald green plasma blade and was returned to its point of origin. Theodore yelled as his own stinging hex hit him square in the face, causing his features to swell nearly beyond recognition. Draco, who had been hiding beside Theodore, dragged the yelping boy to the hospital wing. They then had to try to explain how Theodore had been hit with his own stinging hex.
Theodore was fuming as he sat in the hospital wing, waiting for his face to shrink back down.
"You said there was no way they'd know who sent it!" he accused Draco in a furious whisper.
"He shouldn't have!" answered a red faced Draco. "His back was towards us, and he was between us and that teacher of his. No one should have been able to see us. I swear, someday I'm going to find out just how he's so good at slipping out of traps."
"Well," Theodore said, as he gingerly tried to see if the swelling had reduced at all, "you can leave me out of it."
"A wise decision," said a stern voice from the doorway. Neither boy had noticed Professor McGonagall standing in the doorway. "It's a shame you didn't display this intelligence before you tried to jinx a fellow student in the back. What were you thinking?"
"What are you talking about?" protested Draco. "We were just practicing dueling and a spell got away from us."
"Unfortunately for that version of events," countered Professor McGonagall, "the entire incident was, in fact, witnessed. Mr. Nott, you will lose twenty points and receive a detention for using magic against a fellow student. I was inclined to increase the punishment since you not only used magic against another student, but you attempted to jinx him while his back was turned. However, I feel the pain you are suffering as a result of your actions will serve nicely as a reminder that such actions will not be tolerated at Hogwarts. A single detention will suffice, as long as the action is not repeated." She turned to Draco.
"As you were witnessed egging Mr. Nott on, you will receive the same punishment," Professor McGonagall said to the fuming boy. "Additionally, you will receive another detention with me for lying to me just now."
"You can't prove anything!" spat Draco. "When my father hears of this…"
"When your father hears about this from you," Professor McGonagall cut him off, "he will be hearing about it for the second time."
Draco stopped protesting. He hadn't really intended on telling his father anything. As far as Draco was concerned, the less his father knew about him, the better. He never even gave a thought as to why he was trying to emulate the man.
His father hated anything that drew the wrong sort of attention to the Malfoy family. His fear of his father far outweighed his hatred of Potter. He had only been at school a week and he had already triggered a letter home from the Deputy Headmistress. He would have to walk on eggshells for a while, and it was time for some groveling.
"I apologize, Professor," he said, all of the injured indignation gone from his voice. "I'll take whatever punishment you feel is appropriate."
"A much better attitude, Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said.
"I was hoping that if I take the punishment without further complaint and apologized to Potter," suggested Draco, "that maybe we could chalk this up to high spirits and resolve it internally. There's really no need to involve my parents. I assure you it won't happen again."
Minerva McGonagall was not unobservant. But she also was not heartless. She well understood the fear her threat of informing his father had brought about in the boy, and while she detested the opportunistic bullying the boy displayed, she felt some kindness might help him far more than extra punishment.
"I warn you, Mr. Malfoy," she admonished Draco, "that when I strike a deal with a student, I always insist on full compliance to the terms, and I always collect on any favors given. If I agree to leave your parents out of this incident, I will expect to see a much more cooperative attitude from you, both in class and in your dealings with other students. Are we agreed?"
Draco was sure he would strafe under the watchful eye of McGonagall, but he had to keep his father out of this. His mother he could handle.
"Of course, Professor," he said. "I'll make my apology to Potter the next time I see him."
"Very well, then," Professor McGonagall agreed. "Mr. Nott, your detention will be assigned after you have fully recovered from your injuries. Mr. Malfoy, you may serve yours after dinner this evening. Be in my classroom as soon as dinner is finished. Come prepared to write."
Headmaster Dumbledore was sitting with Toma Kendet again. This time, they were discussing Ronald Weasley. Dumbledore was becoming fairly annoyed with how often he was in meetings with the Jedi. Examining his feelings, he was fairly sure his annoyance was rooted in how often he felt the need to justify himself over things he felt were none of the Jedi's business. He decided to make this a short meeting.
"I am not at liberty to discuss a student's medical history with anyone but his guardians," Dumbledore told the Jedi, "but rest assured the situation was not ignored."
"I did not mean to offend..." Toma Kendet began.
"Yet, sadly, accidental offense occurs alarmingly often," Dumbledore finished for him. "I realize that to you we must appear to be quite primitive. Perhaps your Jedi Council has even bandied the word barbaric about in discussing us humans," the Headmaster said. Toma could not refute the shrewd guess. The Jedi Master had gotten used to dealing with Albus Dumbledore while he was on his back foot, and he was now seeing that this was not a man he could just order about as he pleased.
"We are not," continued Dumbledore, "however, so behind in civility that we will allow a child to go without treatment in the event of a traumatic incident."
"I apologize," Toma said. It was not often that he blundered this badly in a diplomatic matter, and he decided to end the meeting to regroup. "I was merely concerned for the boy as Harry has said his behavior has changed since the incident." Headmaster Dumbledore accepted the apology with a nod, and stood to escort Toma out.
"I will have a conversation with him and his parents," Dumbledore said as he walked Toma to the door, "and make sure he's coping with the situation. I thank you for your interest, but I must ask you to respect Mr. Weasley's privacy."
After dinner, Draco gathered his parchment and quill and left the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. He was not going to enjoy this. He approached the Gryffindor table on his way out.
"Potter," Draco greeted. Harry was sitting with Neville and Hermione. Neville looked up in alarm, but Harry simply smiled at Draco.
"Draco," Harry responded.
"I wanted to apologize for my part in the incident earlier today," Draco said, somewhat stiffly. "While I didn't fire the jinx at you, I must confess that I knew it would be cast and did nothing to stop it." Hermione and Neville both shot their eyebrows up in surprise. Harry continued to smile and nodded.
"I accept your apology," Harry said, rising and extending his hand to the startled Slytherin. Every pair of eyes in the room was watching this development. It was not often that a Gryffindor offered to shake the hand of a Slytherin. Draco took Harry's hand and they shook them for a moment before dropping them.
"Well," Draco said, "I have a detention to get to."
"I hope it's not too long," Harry said, then sat back down with his friends. Across the Great Hall, whispers erupted as this event was analyzed.
"It's not natural," Ernie Macmillan said to Hannah Abbot at the Hufflepuff table. "Slytherins and Gryffindors getting betrothed, and now the most Slytherin Of Slytherins just shook hands with the most Gryffindor of Gryffindors? What is happening at Hogwarts?"
On the other side of the Great Hall, the Ravenclaws were analyzing the event as well.
"Hey, Luna," Lisa Turpin asked, "what do you make of that?"
"It would seem," answered Luna in her airy voice, "that Harry Potter, who is remarkably free of wrackspurts, is actually repelling them from those he touches." Lisa, her brow furrowed in confusion, was about to ask what a wrackspurt was when Luna started to stand up.
"Perhaps I should ask him to touch me," Luna said, intent on approaching Harry Potter. Lisa blushed and her eyes went wide. She grabbed the hand of the younger girl, preventing her from leaving.
"No, Luna," Lisa said, guiding her back to her seat. "You should definitely not ask him that."
"Why not?" asked Luna, confused.
"Well…" Lisa said, but found herself completely unqualified to have this discussion. "Ummm…. Well, you see…" Lisa found that she just didn't have words to explain why young girls just shouldn't go up to boys and ask them to touch them. Not any words she wanted to utter in the Great Hall during dinner at any rate.
"You know what?" she said, wanting out of this conversation but still determined to protect the young girl, "we should ask Professor Flitwick. Adjectives might not fail him."
"Oh my," exclaimed Filius Flitwick. "Thank you, Miss Turpin, for bringing this to my attention. Ten point to Ravenclaw for looking after the younger students." The Ravenclaw head of house dismissed Lisa and privately informed Luna about how to better word some things. Once learning why Lisa was so concerned, Luna had a good laugh. The entire situation was just so funny.
Draco Malfoy's hand was cramped. He'd never written so much in his life. Professor McGonagall's idea of writing wasn't what Draco had anticipated. He thought he'd be doing lines, but she said there was nothing he could learn from that.
Instead, she had him writing essays on transfiguration. He was already caught up on his work in class, so she had him working ahead, to lessens he had not yet learned. He was somewhat disturbed to find that, when removed from the pressure of his housemates to resist anything the Gryffindor head of house said, he actually quite enjoyed the one on one instruction.
Professor McGonagall released him shortly before curfew, and Professor Snape arrived to escort Draco from the transfiguration classroom to his dormitory. Professor Snape used the opportunity to inquire about his summer. While regaling the potions master about all of the things his mother had bought him, including a brand new Nimbus 2001 racing broom, he caught sight of a large shadow out of the corner of his eye.
"Did you see that?" he hissed at Professor Snape, peering down the dark corridor where he had seen the shadow moving. Professor Snape looked down the corridor as well, but saw nothing.
"What did you see?" he asked Draco.
"I don't know," Draco answered. "It was big, whatever it was. A big shadow of something moving along the wall." Professor Snape took out his wand.
"No students should be out this late unattended," he called down the corridor. "Show yourself!" There was no answer, but both man and boy felt the hairs on their arms and on the back of their necks stand on end. They both had the unmistakable feeling that something sinister had taken notice of Professor Snape's words.
"I think we should leave," suggested Draco. He found he could not keep a tremor out of his voice. More than anything in this world, he wanted to avoid going down that corridor. If Professor Snape tried to make him, he would bolt back to his dormitory. He had no way of knowing that Professor Snape was fighting similar feelings of unreasonable fear.
Severus Snape was not twelve, though, and had faced many fears without backing down before. He was one of the few individuals who had ever dared to look the Dark Lord in the eye and lie. He was the only one he knew of who had done so and survived. He pointed his wand down the corridor.
"Lumos projecto!" he cried out, and a bright ball of light flew down the hallway, illuminating every nook and cranny with a brilliant, white light. The ball of light, which Snape had aimed on an upward trajectory, struck the ceiling halfway down the hallway and stuck there, sustaining the illumination.
There was no physical reaction, and whatever was down there was not made visible. The feeling of hostility and imminent danger both Professor Snape and Draco were feeling was multiplied tenfold, though.
Severus Snape was no fool. "Run!" he called out to Draco. That was unnecessary, as Draco was already fleeing. They both made it to the Slytherin common room in record time. There had been no sign of pursuit, but both of them felt the relief that one feels when a very close call has been narrowly averted.
"What… was that?" Draco gasped. He was holding a stitch in his side and panting for breath. He didn't think he could have made it to the portrait hole faster if he had been riding his new broom.
"I do not know," said Professor Snape. "No one leaves the dormitory tonight," he called out to the prefects who were staring in wide eyed astonishment. Never before had any of them ever witnessed fear in their head of house's eyes. It had a greater impact on their obedience than any threat he could have uttered could have possibly made.
A/N - Well, it seems I took a few people by surprise by making Lockhart a competent teacher. That wasn't originally my plan for him, but I felt that with my world's Dumbledore increasing his scrutiny of Snape and the other teachers, he would be much less tolerant of a clear fraud like Canon Lockhart than Canon Dumbledore was. I've written a bit ahead for this year, and I think I've come up with a very interesting Lockhart. Is he still a fraud? I'm not going to say.