* * * Defense Against the Dark Arts * * *

In the background, as quietly but quickly as she can in the momentary silence, Mrs. Weasley is shuffling through the crowd to reach her sons, wanting to shush them discreetly. She is beyond terrified to have them here – to have so much of her vulnerable family in a lethal vampire's presence. Let alone calling attention to themselves. Don't they realize that as purebloods, they just may present the highest appeal of everyone else in attendance?! And that, all told, the six of them are nearly the only ones in the audience who are?! Along with Neville Longbottom, she commiserates. Her heart had beaten nearly out of her chest, such a short time ago, when the family clock had abruptly indicated three of her seven children to be in mortal danger. Immediately she'd contacted her husband, frantic with panic as he tried vainly to console her – the need only lessening slightly when the unusual clock had gratefully shifted to showing them in traveling mode… because it hadn't been very long after that she'd overheard the announcement that a u-vampire had somehow infiltrated the defensive wards of King's Cross Station… and was potentially heading straight toward where they were supposed to be.

All of the worst possibilities had since been battling across her brain. By the time the report of Hogwarts' murderous attacker had come in, she had arrived at the Ministry in person… absolutely terrified but completely adamant about joining forces with Arthur in her family's defense. They had to be safe! She had to keep them safe!

Fears like this didn't relieve just because conversation had rather conclusively illustrated that Edward wasn't going to attack. Thankfully, it helped that her children no longer had the same worry. "Mum," both twins cajoled when she reached them, not wanting to be silenced by her desperately protective manner and grasping hands, "he saved us – from another one in London that had red eyes." Silently, Ginny's read head nods in agreement.

This much was news to nearly everyone present… who hadn't been privy to why the three Weasleys had returned early with a muggle girl in tow. Only now did some of them recognize that this explained what had been said earlier about a newborn in the alley; somehow they all must have been there, together. That one such as him would step in to save purebred human wizards from another vampire's attack – says a lot. If that's really what happened.

"He what!" she whispers back furiously, only now realizing with terrifying dismay how far-too-close her children had come to being butchered in the first place. She can't fathom how to process that they are standing here in front of her, safe and sound. Well, as safe as any human can be in the vicinity of an uncontainable lethal predator whose eyes are too thirsty to be red, even if he hasn't shown inclination to attack. Her mind is a confused whirl of terror, fury, and gratefulness… intensely torn between smothering them all with hugs of celebration, yelling at the twins for getting into a position that scared her so badly, and remaining staunchly vigilant to a threat she obviously doesn't quite understand.

"That's how Bella came to be here. To be safe, we brought her with us," George offers.

"We had no idea he'd come after her," Fred finishes. Especially all the way to this place. "Sorry," he repentantly addresses to the unusual couple.

Edward shrugs it off, smiling slightly. Then, to help allay her fears, he softly addresses her. "Mrs. Weasley, I'm not here to hurt anybody," he reassures.

From across the room a breathy, nervous voice pipes up with: "Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

Edward raises his eyebrow, turning in the direction of an older student whose heartbeat is still pumping at an elevated rate. "Would you have believed me?" he offers gently.

The asker opens her mouth to reply but, thoroughly stumped by the truth of this, simply closes it again.

Intriguing, Albus observes. This explains why he made no effort to address us, in the beginning; truly, actions speak louder than words.

At this point the youngest Weasley grasps at the opportunity to ask a question that's been eating at her about the newborn in the alley… ever since she watched Edward catch the spell from Delores. Having clearly recognized by this action, that no magic they performed then would have been what deterred him, she is left to wonder: So then, what did? "Mr. Edward," she respectfully begins, "if you wouldn't mind, I'd really like to know: in the alley, before you arrived… when we were trying to scare the other one away from us… since apparently none of our magic was effective, why do you think he didn't he attack us?"

Good question, Edward approves, not averse to revealing its valuable answer that would help them stay safer in the future. He shrugs lightly. "You had yourselves backed into a sunlit corner. He happens to have been changed recently enough, to still believe the sunlight would hurt him."

Moment of silence.

"That's all?" the twins who were there with her, as well as both Mr. & Mrs. Weasley, exclaim in ashen disbelief, rather appalled to learn there had been so much chance involved.

Edward shrugs again at them, smiling apologetically. "That's the only time our eyes are that bright. Personal beliefs can have a big impact."

"Thanks," Ginny quietly appreciates, a little wide-eyed herself.

Another voice, by the name of Lee and standing next the twins, pipes up. The tone is curious, and a little mischievous, as if he's almost their partner in crime. "What made you think that none of them," indicating the newcomers to the scene, "were going to be 'flying monkeys'?"

Maybe he is their partner in crime, Edward chuckles once, amused at the resurgence of the theme.

"Oh, I've just observed that the typical Slytherin – or anyone who tends to be of similar persuasion – won't willingly come near me."

"Cowards," somebody concludes under their breath, though everyone can hear. We all saw them running out of the room as quickly as they could.

Snape's suddenly angry scowl in their direction, naturally in defense of his house, makes the student cringe. Clearly, not all of the Slytherins ran out… though it seems he's the only one left.

Edward smirks in knowing amusement. "Not entirely, actually; it's more like flawed logic." His and Severus' gazes meet momentarily, and the hardened professor is uncommonly and respectfully curious as to what sure-to-be intelligent reasoning is going to be behind this slight defense of his house. Various eyebrows rise around the room in interested anticipation of his explanation – or with the unsettling worry that any vampire could possibly be in cohoots with the likes of Death Eaters – and a trio of them remember that Snape's task to protect the stone in their first year, had been a test of logic.

"You see," Edward continues, unperturbed, "those of Slytherin persuasion tend to pride themselves on the fact that their parents also have magical ability. For some of them, this heritage spans quite a few generations – and it is most desirable when they can claim no non-magical blood in their ancestry at all. However… while this is all well and good for them under normal circumstances… in the presence of a vampire: they're convinced that their status as pure-blooded witches and wizards would cause them to be first on the menu."

Recalling Edward's recent evidence against Umbridge, about Bella's appeal being the strongest of all for him (all while knowing her to be muggle, or at the very least muggle-born, even as the pure-blooded Weasleys had evidently not been particularly tempting), a few Gryffindors start chuckling at the Slytherins' ridiculousness. "You've got to be kidding," they chortle, finally starting to be comfortable in his presence. They're also a little miffed that those running out had so callously left them in their stead.

Clearly humored as well, to their relief, the handsome teenage vampire just shakes his head. "Nope. You saw how desperate Delores became when she felt trapped, away from the exit."

Many of them nod, remembering this, as reflexively many of their gazes unwillingly fall upon their potions professor. Then why is Snape still here? The silent complaint is clear against their least favorite teacher. Shouldn't he be out with them? the tone of these thoughts are uncomfortably wishful. He hasn't even been panicky. One person even braves said professor's glare to voice this aloud.

"It takes all kinds," Edward shrugs, subtly defending him from their scrutiny. "Certainly you know he's a fair bit smarter, which any person has to be to take on potions as an invited member of the staff, and neither does he claim as pureblooded a heritage as she does." The confident way he talks, makes it sound as conclusively simple as that.

Yet, both Severus and Albus know that this isn't actually the reason why the potions master remains present – he really is an extremely courageous double agent – though it is a reason that will mollify suspicions without compromising his undercover status. Intelligent, indeed, Snape observes of Edward. And… 'as an invited member of the staff'? Is this just a dig against Delores, or really a subtle acknowledgement of my history? He silently wonders just how much the vampire can sense about his surroundings to determine this much. Could he know about my loyalties as well? That's disconcerting. Presumably just from hearing lots of panicked students beyond the walls, he knows a fair bit more than I would have guessed.

When some Gryffindors scoff at the Slytherins for this, Edward reminds them pointedly in a mildly reprimanding tone: "Gryffindors aren't immune to this kind of thinking."

As numerous wizards subsequently take thought to assess whosoever is still in attendance, it becomes apparent to those in the know that even among Gryffindors: the only pure-blooded wizards that remain in the room are members and relatives of the OOTP staff or DA. The recent interlude with Mrs. Weasley is telling.

"The way I see it," Edward continues in a now complimentary voice, "across all persuasions: the exceptions to this rule all seem to have something in common. Either they've all most appreciatively made themselves into 'Dorothy's Allies'," he indicates his gratitude for their care of Bella with a nod of approval, "must all be secret members of some 'Daredevils Anonymous', and/or" a twitch of his lips indicates his more humorous preference: "simply strike me as the best 'Delores Aggravators'."

As his audience chuckles along with him in quiet surprise, members of the DA can't ignore the underlying reference. He knows! How does he know? But… he's also clearly not telling. Very intriguing.

In response to the youthful vampire's respectfully intelligent approach and defense (even if minor) of Slytherin house – and, rather personally, of its head – along with his unbiased rebound against Gryffindor… all while recognizing his reference to the undercover student Defense Association known to the Order of the Phoenix, and the unwielded sense of power he emanates… Severus keenly appreciates: Too bad he isn't one of my students; I could enjoy having him in my class.

From this friendly place, Edward helpfully offers a bit of insight as to whether any of their numerous defensive strategies would really be (harmlessly) effective – or not – against a vampire of his type. "You should be aware that whether or not something was effective against me isn't necessarily a fair measure of its worth," he informs them. "While, evidently, cast spells and physical impediments are going to – I suppose, rather universally – have very little effect, we are not immune to your illusions. Your cleverness in this may indeed be your greatest asset. However, sometimes we also come with an unique supernatural talent. It just so happens that mine allows me not to be so easily deceived."

This is remarkably consistent with my observations earlier, Albus ponders the new information. I wonder: can he hear our thoughts?

Unwilling to go into further detail concerning the nature of his talent, in the face of everyone's clear curiosity, smoothly Edward goes on to constructively comment that he thinks Headmaster Dumbledore's light show was rather ingenious, and perhaps the most impressive of all the magic used upon his arrival. The headmaster had obviously been previously aware of the benign but striking effect light had upon a vampire, or else he wouldn't have been able to think of probably the only type of distraction that could have responded quickly enough [even if passively] to counter any blindingly fast move he made… though it still remains to be seen how effective it would be for keeping a traditional vampire from being fatally violent.

Professor Snape's inventive spit-fire is recognized as potentially the most effective deterrent, had he not understood its nature and been able to jump high enough to avoid it completely. Its borderline-offensiveness is balanced out by the supposition that a typical and non-magically-aware vampire might not have recognized anything supernatural about it, even while it continued to attack him.

Professor Flitwick's upside-down perception field was perhaps the most unexpected maneuver, and possibly very effective as a non-harmful impediment… against someone who wasn't him. His perceptive sensitivity neutralizes its effectiveness dramatically, both because he can know it's there (and only illusionary!), and also because he is aware of its magical nature which merely requires one to step out of the illusion, in order to be free of it.

Giving special tribute to the Ravenclaw boy that doused himself with the scent of garlic (using a 'muffliato'-like spell for scents), Edward identifies that method as probably the smartest individual move: "Garlic doesn't bother me. But the way you put it around yourself did effectively dilute your scent."

Said very-pleased boy stands up more proudly at the praise. The moment Edward is gone, he'll be instantly popular – as many will be suddenly crowding him in order to learn how he did it.

Edward similarly acknowledges Hermione's invisibility spell, which – though it isn't entirely effective against him, because he can perceive a wider spectrum of visible light than it protects against (and doesn't at all protect against what he can hear or smell) – nevertheless quite generously shielded more than just herself in the process. It is deemed to be the most considerate effort.

Still covered by the spell of disillusionment, her cheeks turn pink. Then, under the vampire's knowing gaze and in answer to everyone else's searching expressions, she removes the ineffective enchantment.

Finally, Edward offers congratulations to Miss Lovegood for the most thoughtful approach to his appearance. He smiles in thanks. "Do these candies appeal to the vampires of your magical community?" The answer is affirmative. "And I suspect they don't tolerate garlic," he theorizes. The answer is again affirmative. "They have a very human sense of taste," he muses. "Very… biotic."

In the wake of all this enlightening information, in combination with the remarkably non-threatening feel of his interaction by this point, more than one student wishfully imagines that he would make an incredible Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. After all, our best teachers to date have been a werewolf and an undercover convicted Death Eater. What's a vampire after that? Wouldn't it be sooo neat if he could replace the toad that is Umbridge?! Sigh, with a longing glance toward all the less-comfortable ministry adults; if only. At least we got him for a day.

Quite agreeably, Dumbledore awards house points to anyone Edward has commended for their use of magic.

A/N: One more chapter to go! Thanks for reading and sharing!