A/n: I know you're like "had us waiting this long for a short chapter' but I've been forced to have a life against my will... and I sought of lost all my progress and my place (in the story). I am so sorry. but I'm back... by popular demand (of the voices in my head).
I hope I haven't lost you all in the wait.
Kurt glared at Professor Umbridge, she and the ministry interfering with Defence Against the Dark Arts he could handle- he was more interested in practicing the dark arts than defending himself from them- but he had a serious problem with her interference in other learning areas. The High Inquisitor's moderation of their lessons and teachers, while in the hands of an impartial observer would be a tool for improving their education, was simply an opportunity for Deloris Umbridge to undermine the authority of their teachers and ensure that the curriculum did not lend itself to creativity. She seemed to have a knack for stamping out the ember of creative ingenuity, Kurt suspected that it was born from her traditionalist and classic values.
It was Professor Flitwick's Charms lesson that was being moderated today and Kurt wondered if Professor Umbridge had selected this particular lesson to coincide with their year's Charms lesson. Kurt sat anxiously in his seat as he waited for the lesson to begin; Kurt was one of Professor Flitwick's favourite students and the man was one of Kurt's favourite teachers, Charms was also one of Kurt's highest marks and favourite subjects; he had a lot riding on this lesson.
"Good day fifth years," Professor Flitwick greeted them from behind his podium at the front of the class.
"Good day Professor Flitwick," their class responded in unison.
"Today our lesson will be on basic household enchantments," Professor Flitwick announced with a tone of glee, Professor Umbridge cleared her throat but it did not deter the charms master, "these are tricks you can use to complete basic household chores." Professor Umbridge stepped forward and cleared her throat once more, more loudly, "Professor Umbridge will be observing and moderating this lesson."
"Thank you Professor Flitwick," Professor Umbridge took a step forward.
"Silently," Professor Flitwick spoke sternly, pre-empting her speech on strong traditionalist values. Professor Umbridge held her composure but to Kurt's well trained eyes it was obvious that he was less than pleased with the outright dismissal, "this lesson has a simple incantation but tricky syntax. There are a sequence of instructions that must be compounded into the incantation; the subject or enactor of the chore, verb or chore, a time or quantitative limit, the object to be acted on, the manner with which the chore must be carried out, the place that the chore must be carried out, and any follow up action or auxiliary information."
A number of hands shot up but it was Neville who was called upon, "do you always have to be so specific."
"Not always, by the time you are able to practically apply this spell in real life you will have learned non-verbal spell casting," Professor Flitwick giggled, "you will only have to picture the chore but in the interim you will do well to be as specific as necessary." He smiled, "Say for example you want the dishes to wash themselves, so you ask the dishcloth to wash the dishes? You haven't told it which dishes to wash of for how long so it could potentially wash every dish in the world or just one dish over and over. You haven't told it where to wash the dishes so it could do it in the toilet or down at the river. You haven't told it what to do with the clean dishes so it might break them or throw them out.
"As such," Professor Flitwick's grin was immovable, "it is imperative that you are as specific as possible." He moved to the left of his podium, "Let us practice the incantation and wand movements. The wand should be pointed directly at the subject until you reach the point where you name the object, where by you shift to the object until you reach the manner, and you flourish your wand clockwise and then anticlockwise.
"Let's practice with your quill and parchment, go over the instructions in your head and move in time with them," Kurt noticed Professor Umbridge lurking in the back and writing furiously in her notebook, a smile plastered on her face, "now, the incantation; Objectum (Subject) actum (Verb) et (Time) et (Object) et (Manner) unde (Place) infinitivus (Infinitive). Let's go over it together."
"Objectum (Subject) actum (Verb) et (Time) et (Object) et (Manner) unde (Place) infinitivus (Infinitive)" the class chorused together.
"How is this in anyway simple?" Seamus groaned.
"The incantation is simply Objectum actum et," the charms master explained to the Gryffindor boy, "the rest is syntax to ensure absolute success." He turned to the class at large, "let's practice getting our quills to write our names on the parchment."
Kurt smiled, he pointed his wand at the quill, "Objectum Quill actum write et once," Kurt shifted his wand to the parchment, "et parchment et neatly unde next to the margin," Kurt began to flourish his wand, "infinitivus 'Kurt Elizabeth Hummel' on this parchment only."
The quill performed the instruction perfectly, when it was done it started writing directly under his name in perfectly formed script that resembled the worksheets used to instruct junior school children on letter formation 'sucks'.
"Really funny Finnocence," Kurt glared at his brother.
"The spell may seem complicated but if you learn it now, in this form," the charms master gave a small chuckle, "you will master it with ease non-verbally."
"How does that make any sense?" Ron hissed.
"Learning long division gives you the ability to do large division sums in your head," Hermione shrugged.
"Professor Flitwick, if I may," Professor Umbridge moved to the space on the other side of the charms professor's podium, "it is spiriting to see young minds being shaped in such pragmatic magic in a secure and safe environment that will allow academic journey to progress without incidence. It is the vision of the ministry to see young people such as yourselves taught in a way that best prepares you for your future careers and domestic lives, it is in an effort to achieve this goal that the ministry has taken the necessary steps to ensure that this institution that is a beacon in our society lives up to the standards required for achieving that goal."
Kurt and Hermione exchanged a concerned look.
~0~
"Nice pyjamas," Ron snickered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a yawn, "I think my Great Aunt Pearl has something like that."
Kurt looked down at his three-piece silk pyjama set and looked back at the boy with a narrowed his gaze, "nice nipples, they look like dog noses."
Ron adjusted his vest so it hid his nipples, "that's unnecessarily hurtful."
"I know, that's how I prefer it," Kurt wrapped his robe tighter around himself.
"Good to know that the fact that it's the middle of the night doesn't stop Kurt and Ron from flirting like I imagine basilisks do," Harry groaned.
"Would," Kurt corrected, "Basilisks, while gendered, are asexual. They do not mate or interact in anyway but rather are bred by hatching a chicken egg under a toad."
"Please tell me I didn't get out of bed for a lesson in Care for Magical Creatures," Ron groaned.
"You didn't," Hermione assured him.
"As much as I'm enjoying this thing, whatever it is," Harry rolled his eyes, "Why are we meeting at midnight?"
"and why did it have to be outside?" Kurt followed up, "it's really cold out here, Ron's nipples are probably hard enough to cut diamonds."
"Okay," Ron threw his hands up in defeat, "I'm sorry I made fun of your pyjamas, they suit you very well and in no way make you look like an old fat lady. Can we lay-off my nipples now?"
"I'm sure I still have one good nipple jab," Kurt furrowed his brow for a moment, "No, I'm good."
"Thank you," Ron leaned closer to Harry, "remind me never to make fun of Kurt ever again."
"As if you'd listen," Harry rolled his eyes.
"Hermione," Kurt raised an expectant brow.
"These Educational decrees are getting ridiculous," Hermione shivered in her nightgown, "isn't there something we can do?"
"Kurt bought the school," Ron pointed out, "doesn't that give you vetoing power?"
"To decisions made by the Board of Governors, this is the law," Kurt hugged himself tightly, "it's a little above my paygrade."
"So what?" Ron shrugged, "we do nothing?"
"For the time being it appears to be our only option," Hermione shook her head.
Harry shook his head, "what are you hearing?"
"Not much," Kurt shook his head, "all I can tell you right now is that our kill files are scarier than Sirius Black's, the ministry has everything waiting."
"Stop shaking your heads, it's making me dizzy," Ron leaned against the wall.
"What does that mean?" Hermione furrowed her brow, shock written on her face.
"They seem to be privy to some of our most intimate conversations," Kurt shook his head, "the things they know and the ones they don't have me perplexed, I'd think they were listening in if they knew everything but they know the most arbitrary details."
Hermione clutched her chest, "They don't-" Kurt nodded, "oh God."
"What?" Harry looked between the pair, "the ministry knows, surely you can tell us."
"It's deeply personal and we're not discussing it till it becomes absolutely crucial," Hermione snapped dismissively.
Kurt smiled devilishly, "Hermione-"
"Kurt," her voice flirting with the ceiling human hearing, "you can't tell them."
"It's not like they'll care," Kurt giggled.
"It doesn't matter," Hermione snapped, "It's none of their business."
"Whatever," Kurt shrugged.
"Why don't you tell them yours?" Hermione crossed her arms.
Kurt smirked, "Mine isn't going to come out, if it does it will be distasteful but it won't be a surprise to anyone."
"Either tell us or move on," Harry growled.
"Yes Kurt," Hermione huffed, "move on."
"We also know that the rumours on Continental Europe show that they believe us more than people here at home do," Kurt gave a weak smile, "Madame Maxime's sabbatical and the disappearance of Don Karkaroff seem to give the rumours clout."
"Karkaroff is missing?" Harry exclaimed.
"I thought his name was Igor not Don," Ron mumbled.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "it's his title, not his name."
"Oh," Ron nodded, "what happened to him?"
"He disappeared almost immediately after Durmstrang returned home," Hermione explained, "I suspect he went into hiding."
"Why would he go into hiding?" Ron furrowed his brow.
"He used to be a Death Eater," Kurt explained.
Ron rolled his eyes, "I get that much."
"Voldemort's return means a lot for him," Kurt explained, "he turned state informant on his fellow Death Eaters, they will be coming for him soon as they're out of Azkaban. You don't quit being a Death Eater, the only way out is to die."
"Why are you so sure everyone's getting out of Azkaban?" Harry glared at him.
"You think Voldemort can organise for a pair of dementors to attack you in Little Whinging and he can't get them to let his most loyal followers out of Azkaban?" Hermione's voice was distant and small.
"Professor Snape used to be a Death Eater," Ron pointed out.
"He's either very brave, quite wise," Kurt shrugged, "or up to no good."
"How do you mean?" Hermione tilted her head questioningly.
"He is either here because he is unafraid of the consequences, he knows that he is safe in the shadow of Professor Dumbledore," Kurt took a deep breath, "or he's still eating death, or whatever the verb for being a Death Eater is."
Ron gulped nervously, "What else did you learn?"
"Nothing relevant," Kurt shook his head.
"What is it?" Harry asked encouragingly.
"I don't know how to explain," Kurt shrugged, "I'm trying to understand how he's continued to survive all this time, even unicorn blood has its limitations. It must be magic so dark that even I can't imagine it, or so boring it isn't worth the brain power."
"And?"
Kurt gave a weak smile, "I suspect the latter."
"Why is that?" Hermione's eyes went wide.
"It feels like something I know but I'm having difficulty linking the two up," Kurt shrugged, "it's like if I weren't as good at packing and I was trying to figure out which of my eight suitcases I'd packed something specific in."
"That makes no sense," Harry shook his head.
"What happened to your well organised mind?" Ron shivered, "You're supposed to have near perfect recollection of everything you read, right?"
"Yes," Kurt nodded, "I'm not sure I read this though."
"What about if it's so dark you can't imagine it?" Harry cut their tangent short, "What do you have for that?"
"All I have is a name and I'm looking into it," Kurt shrugged.
"A name?" Harry furrowed his brow, "Who?"
"Wait," Hermione shook her head, "we haven't been looking for a name."
"There's nothing on it in the library," Kurt shook his head.
"Who?" Harry growled.
"Anais Haddad-Schmidt," Kurt whispered the name and it sent a cold shiver up his spine.
"Who is she?" Harry grabbed Kurt's arm firmly, "is she one of his followers?"
"No," Kurt shook his head, shrugging out of the shorter boy's grip with a glare, "I don't know anything about her other than that she lived in the last millennium."
"If you don't know anything about her then how do you know of her?" Ron furrowed his brow, "how do you know she's real? How do you know it's a she? How do you know it matters?"
"I know what I know and I'm sure it matters," Kurt shrugged, "telling you anymore would discredit me."
"Try me," Harry growled.
"It came to me in a dream," Kurt shrugged.
Harry's eyes went wide and he reached out a gentle hand, "you're dreaming of him too?"
Kurt couldn't keep the shock from his face, "I'm not dreaming of Voldemort." Kurt shook his head, "Honey, why haven't you told me your having more dreams of him? I thought it was just Cedric's death."
"Then who?" Harry snapped back, retreating into himself.
Kurt took a deep breath, "I don't know how or why yet but I've been dreaming of-"
"We all have to be ready," Hermione interrupted before he could finish, "after the muggles, we're the most vulnerable." She gave a weak laugh, "we need to be able to defend ourselves when the time comes and we can sell it to people as extra Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons."
Kurt quirked a brow, "What are we selling and to whom?"
"Between the four of us we know more magic than most other students," Hermione shook her head, more excitedly this time, "we can get something going, teach those who want to know."
"Hermione," Ron held up his hands to slow her train of thought, "start at the beginning and explain your idea like…" he shrugged, "like you're explaining it to me."
"We're going to teach our peers how to duel, for real." Hermione smiled broadly, "like how to defend themselves from the bad guys, how to fight." Hermione was vibrating with excitement at this point, "we're going to make sure that regardless of whether they believe us or not, those who want to, will be ready for whatever may come their way."
"Or at the very least their OWLs," Kurt gave a small smile.
"There's so much planning to do!" Hermione squealed excitedly.
~0~
Welsh Mountains,
04th January 988,
09:37 AM.
"Helga," the lithe woman extended her hands as she appeared with a pop so faint that it was barely audible to the St Bernard at her friend's feet, "I apologise for my tardiness, I know it's inexcusable but-"
"The world wasn't going to save itself," Helga rose from her seat to greet her dearest friend with a hug, "it's lovely to see you."
"It's lovely to see you as well," they stood for a moment looking at each other, "How is your mother? Where is Charles?"
"My mother is fit as a fiddle," Helga chortled, "I suspect your elixir worked too well, she and Charles are on a hike. How are things at the Ministry? What were you just working on?"
"Breakfast with Haim Black," Rowena gave a tight lipped smile.
Halga's mouth hung open, "are you taking a liking to the gentleman?"
"Me? Take a liking to Haim?" Rowena let out a polite giggle, "Oh, he's much too light in the loafers for my taste."
"You lie," Helga gave a small chuckle, "How do you know?"
"He may not be a parselmouth but that doesn't stop him from getting intimate with a specific serpentine breed. Or can you think of another way to explain his penis breath," Rowena rubbed her hands sinisterly.
"Rowena," Helga gave a booming chuckle, "don't you start that, I thought we long expelled that prejudice from our society."
"Don't get me wrong, I am not prejudice," Rowena shook he head, "I love Haim and his light loafers but I don't think it is a quality I'd appreciate in husband."
"I would think you would enjoy a husband who would leave you to your own devices," Helga wagged a curious brow.
"As much as I'd appreciate the space," Rowena allowed her stoic nature to fall even farther for a moment, "I'd miss the sex."
"Rowena," Helga gasped with false scandal.
"I have been a guest in your home and from what I've heard," she giggled just outside of propriety, "you would too in such a situation."
"It is the best part of being married," Helga gave a small laugh.
"It's the best part of being unmarried as well," Rowena pursed her lips. Their chat was interrupted by a firm knocking on the door, "Are you expecting someone?"
"Yes, there is someone I want you to meet," Helga jumped up and was at the door before Rowena could gather herself and her thoughts. Helga opened the door and in the door way stood a large man with a mane of bright red hair, "Rowena Ravenclaw, meet Godric Gryffindor."
"Charmed I'm sure," the man smiled broadly and handed Helga his coat, "I hope you ladies don't mind, but I brought a friend. This is Salazar Slytherin, Salazar meet Helga and," the man kissed her hand, "may I call you Rowena?"
"Given the context, it would appear to be appropriate," her stoic demeanour back in place. Salazar Slytherin was a slender man with a severe widows peak and black square spectacles, he shook her hand, "a pleasure to meet you both."
"Helga," Godric turned to Helga as he took the seat beside her, "Have you found me a wife, is that why you've called this meeting?"
"I called this meeting," Rowena's words were sharp, "and in me Helga has found nothing for anyone." Salazar beside her gave a small chuckle, "your reputation precedes you Godric, both of you to be perfectly honest. Your work in the face of recent events is highly commended in the ministry, it makes sense that you would be here."
"As does your reputation," Godric bowed his head slightly, "given your recent work, people have started to speculate as to whether you're the brightest witch of the age. You acted very bravely."
"I did what I did out of necessity, it was the only logical way forward," she gave a small shrug, "the only way life as we know it could go on was if I stopped Anais Haddad-Schmidt."
Hope you liked it!
Objectum (Subject) actum (Verb) et (Time) et (Object) et (Manner) unde (Place) infinitivus (Infinitive) is a latin google translation of object, act, when, what, how, where, infinitive.
Reviews are love. (or like, or tolerance, or even hate)