Hello, hello!
Did you miss me? I certainly did go under with a hectic week, didn't have time for anything else but work. But I have stolen a couple of hours now, and I'll try my best to crank out this chapter now.
Onwards! Chapter 36.
***
Minister Isa Dawlish couldn't be happier with the first reports that started coming in after mobilizing selected Auror units in lightning quick attacks in areas so well specified and pinpointed that the last squanders of the Death Eaters were completely taken aback. The fights and duels that had taken place had been furious, but only three in a total of eight Law Enforcement raids died in the fray. Indeed, McGonagall's Auguror had done such a splendid job Minister Dawlish was beginning to think a little better of the whole idea of using such perilous types of Divination and Arithmancy.
She hummed a little tune as she signed off the list of induction papers to have the criminals escorted to Azkaban. She had already authorized for an area to be made suitable for trials on-island for especially dangerous criminals, and thus signed for the transit papers and fees of the Wizengamot members that would travel there to give those vermin their law-guaranteed trial. She then called in her secretary.
"Wheyne, schedule an appointment for me with the press," she said, lifting her chin a little in triumph. "We must announce that the Death Eaters have finally all been indicted or accounted for as deceased."
"Yes'm," the secretary half bowed out of the door, and for a moment, Isa leaned back in her swivel chair and smiled at the ceiling, then glanced at the side, where some portraits were hanging. They were utility ones, always changing and often empty: one was for Hogwarts headmasters' portraits, and originally of the headmaster around the time the ministry was founded, another was for the Order of Merlin portraits, and originally of Pollux Black, and thus the background was that of mountains of golden coins.
Isa sighed and glanced at the file McGonagall had given her, and which was going to found her securely in her position until she died, if she played her PR cards the right way. Just as Minerva had said, all the battles with the Death Eaters were victorious. But what about Isis and Osiris? It was a given that they would react to losing their initial forces with the Ministry activity. The Headmistress hadn't quite described what a prime wizard was, except that they were potent. But hadn't Voldemort been potent as well? Isa didn't want another vendetta and looming of darkness over Britain at least, and certainly not during her administration.
The Auguror's plan had worked like a charm- Isa chuckled at her own pun- up to now. Why wouldn't it be the same with the pockets of non-Death Eater cultists that were up north? The Headmistress had said the Auguror had been adamant not to venture to attack or raid the northern area castles and sites that had been marked upon the map as dangerous. But why not? Why not continue while you're on a roll, and take the house?
The Minister sat up on her desk and looked at the marked map of England again with interest. There were some Death Eaters- the public thinking them already dead, so no false announcements there- that were supposedly very near this Isis and Osiris. Why not go pick them up, using the same plans and strategy? Isa grinned to herself.
"Whatever it is you are thinking, it is a bad idea," came a voice from the portrait. Isa looked up and saw Pollux Black in his lush fur robes. She frowned.
"You haven't spoken in all my time here, and you choose to do it by telling me not to do something?" she groused acerbically. "I preferred you mute."
"And I preferred the position of minister free of women," Pollux snapped back, "but it would be idiotic to have you lead the ministry into a shambles."
"And what would you know, anyway? I am the minister who eradicated the last of the Death Eaters," Isa straightened up, pointing to her chest.
"Thus I have so far not deigned to speak to you," drawled the man. "But now you are about to throw everything you earned away by going against the very thing that gave you that victory."
"I didn't ask for your advice, Black," Isa snapped at the portrait, jabbing her quill at it. "If it were up to me, I'd never concede to having a Black in my office."
Pollux sneered, but didn't reply further, and Isa nodded aggressively, satisfied to have shut the insufferable portrait up. Then, she busily began jotting down notes for the next debriefing that would send her aurors to strike at the heart of this infection that was festering in the north. I will clean England up of all darkness- that's how they will remember me.
***
When Nikos walked to his classroom, Rasmus was already there, waiting for him, rather earlier than was required. The boy was looking at him approach with worried, hopeful eyes. Nikos did his best to keep a straight face. He had mixed feelings with what he had read- Rasmus' work had been brilliant, in-depth and surprisingly insightful. He definitely had his mother's gift for groundbreaking work. But it also had alarmed him deeply, because of the reckless urge for penance more than anything else. I should have held my mouth when I had to. This is all my fault.
"Well, godfather? Did you read it?" Rasmus asked in Greek. Nikos nodded.
"Yes, I did. We will talk about it after class."
Rasmus' eyes searched Nikos' face for a moment, then cringed.
"It's all hogwash, isn't it? I did double check my sources, and made sure I was-"
"Roc," Nikos cut the boy off with the special name he had for him. Rasmus blinked once.
Nikos smiled, and looked for a moment to the side to notice Hermione walking in. He returned his gaze to Rasmus.
"Like I said, we'll talk about it after class."
Rasmus breathed in and nodded, a small muscle clenching along with his teeth, and backstepped.
Nikos nodded his approval and turned to Hermione.
"Hello," he said amiably. "You seem to be early today, ne?"
"Oh," Hermione said, and chuckled a little nervously. "Harry's just outside I bet; trying to convince Ron to come inside."
"Convince him to come inside? I don't suppose I've become so fear-inspiring already, have I?" Nikos grinned, hands in his pant pockets, his uniform's cape thrown mostly back over his shoulders.
Hermione was looking miserable.
"Well… he feels he is too injured to come to class, professor, even to watch."
Nikos arched an eyebrow. He didn't quite know the golden trio, but from each and every account he had had of them, be it from Snape's ranting or McGonagall's information, he knew they were inseparable, and that Granger and Weasley were an item of sorts.
"Hmmm… why don't I go check while the others arrive, eh?" he said and walked out in a quick pace he managed to make non-chalant.
He was right in time to see Harry Potter's back slightly crouched in an unmistakable 'hold-anger-in' bracing, fists at the side, as Ron Weasley was walking away, also, apparently, in a huff. Teen spats. Marvellous, Nikos thought, despite the fact he knew the particular students were past their teenage years- but Nikos believed that teenage years could spill over in the twenties… and often even further.
"Ron Weasley! I believe you missed the classroom door. We're over here!" he said cheerfully, gesturing for the redhead to come over in more excitement than was necessary.
Harry turned so sharply to face him, Nikos thought his head would snap by the force of inertia.
"Professor!"
"Yes, yes, that's me now," Nikos grinned and nodded towards the classroom. "Why don't you go in and console Hermione?"
"Why does she need to be consoled?" Ron groused as he dragged his feet towards them. His arm was still tightly strapped to his torso. "I am the invalid here."
"Ah, let's just all go in, shall we?" Nikos pushed both young men in, before Harry burst with a heated response to Ron's commentary.
Hermione strode over to ask Rasmus a question. Rasmus began to answer, clearly taken aback at the sudden address. Harry seemed to be fuming and Ron was flustered and morose. Nikos kept his smile, and welcomed the rest of the class inside, as the Slytherins and Gryffindors filed in. Nearly all of them looked to have gotten every single detail of how he ran his classes from his previous ones. Perfect.
"Welcome," he said seriously and waved his wand for the door to shut, and this his special sigils to be activated for class again, and make all spells physically harmless. "I had been looking forward to teaching you," he looked at the seniors standing at as much distance as was considered polite from him. "My class design for you is going to be very special."
"Professor Bai had been teaching us real Defense," spoke up one Gryffindor.
"That's right," Nikos said. "And I am going to teach you real Defense, as well."
He looked around once more and slowly pulled out his wand. Rasmus was standing with the Slytherins now, but closer to Gryffindors than most.
"All of you are special," he began, "because all of you already have experience of what it means to be in battle."
The air immediately became heavy, and most Gryffindors glared at their Slytherin classmates.
"Not all," Ron hissed, but audibly enough for his voice to be heard, and several heads bobbed in response. Hermione had sighed, eyes closed, and Harry was scrutinizing his shoes with interest.
"Save it, Weasel," Adeline Gaunt snapped. "You don't know the first thing about it."
"And she's right, just like he's right, too," Nikos intervened, walking his non-chalant step between the green and red, causing them to slowly separate, and simply glare at one another.
"Class! Attention to me, please. It's imprudent not to pay attention to the one wizard with wand drawn." All students seemed to flinch at the sudden firm, steely and decidedly threatening tone Professor Galanos' voice took- one that hinted of danger, though it was not raised above the conversational tone the man was employing. It seemed his flat, loud-vowel accent was making the effect even more impressive.
Nikos continued as if no animosity was making the air crackle, as soon as all eyes were on him.
"As I said, you all know what it means to be in battle- you have survived a war. Some of you, also know what it means to fight in a battle. But all of you know how it feels to need to look over your shoulder nearly every time you breathe. Isn't that correct? It's not like the firsties or so, who haven't lived through dark times."
"Even the little Snape?" drawled another Slytherin, making Rasmus glare, but keep his silence despite the muffled chuckling all around.
Nikos, however, was very grave when he nodded.
"Oh, yes; Rasmus was born into war, grew up through the atmosphere of battles, and knows just what it is like."
Rasmus was glowering, daring anyone to ask Nikos what he was referring to. Ask and die, he mouthed to another Slytherin who seemed tempted to raise his hand.
"So," Nikos didn't pause enough for questions, "as I said, you lot are special. I don't need to teach to you the psychology of being in constant vigilance- you already know it, even if you don't employ it. What we will be learning here, is battle."
"Been there, done that," Ron said in bitter irony, "and may I be excused? I, as you can see sir, am crippled at the moment." He pointed at his bound arm.
Nikos arched an eyebrow.
"Oh?" he approached, frowning busily in interest. "Crippled, you say?"
"Yes," Ron seemed ready to burst. "Can I go now?" He avoided Hermione's half-guilty, half-glowering glance.
"No," Nikos shook his head. "But you may come up to the front of the class with me. Thank you! That's the spirit."
Nikos' voice was nearly jovial again as he pulled Ron from his sleeve back to his position at the head of the class.
"Back in Greece, there are two types of citizens," Nikos grinned, with Ron slouching next to him. "Those who battle and those who lurk. Now, when worse comes to worst, even those who lurk will fight to win- but usually they are non combatants, people who can turn off their readiness. All of you are lurkers, just yet."
"Even Harry Potter?" asked another Gryffindor in challenge. Harry rolled his eyes.
"Harry Potter probably would have been, had he been given a chance," Nikos chuckled.
Then he spread his arms in a sweeping move of the entire class.
"But those who battle, battle whether in peace or war- they are the innovators, the inventors, the groundbreakers… the truly brave people that cut the path forward for anyone with the guts to follow," Nikos said, and then twirled his wand in his other hand. "And you will definitely learn to be that, in my class. Starting with Ron here."
"Me?" Ron gasped. "But- but!"
"I would ask you, class, for what you see when you look at Ron, but I know I will get all sorts of wisecracks, and we don't quite have the time for it today," Nikos made the class smirk and chuckle again, and Ron flush, "and so I will sum it up with a question. Hands up, for whoever sees easy pray in a battle. Hands up for anyone who sees an invalid."
Everyone's but Harry's, Hermione's and Rasmus' hands went up. Nikos grinned.
"5 points to the Houses of anyone who didn't raise hands," he said. "Unless you are incapacitated- and that means flat on your face or back on the floor, you are not crippled. Every fighter worth their salt would tell you that as long as your head is in working order, your heart in the right place and at least two of your limbs attached and usable, you are still able to fight- and win."
There was silence. Nikos smirked to himself.
"And so, today, in this class, we are going to prove it. Rasmus, do you think you can handle Ron's predicament?"
Rasmus nodded simply and stepped forward, knowing what was coming.
"Yeah, sure," he said.
"Splendid," Nikos waved his wand and Rasmus left arm snapped tightly to his torso, and stayed there, immobile. Nikos turned to Ron, who was yet being confused, along with everyone else. "Ron, are you in pain right now? Even the littlest bit?"
"Uh… uh… guess not," Ron mumbled and Nikos grinned.
"Wonderful! Everyone but Rasmus, stand behind that yellow line on the floor, you too Ron," Nikos said and waited as the students shuffled, obeying his instructions. Rasmus came to stand opposite Nikos, face expressionless, but his gray eyes shining with excitement.
"Can everyone see us?" Nikos asked, and watched some people cringe. Note to self- ask what class of moron has been associated with the particular question. "Great! Now, I'll be the bad guy-" Nikos' clothes transfigured in pitch black clothes and cloak, and heavy black eyeliner traced itself around the eyes impressively, giving him a wild punk look. The students chuckled. "Ha ha; laugh all you want, innocent victims, but I have just jumped you all, capturing you for my dark purposes. Only this puny Rasmus is standing in my way, and I have already wounded him out of use of his entire arm!" Blood splattered appropriately all over Rasmus and his immobile arm.
Nikos let out a perfect bad guy cackle, and nodded to Rasmus as he said:
"I will eat him up for breakfast, and then come to finish you. What threat can he be to me?"
"Try this," Rasmus hissed and swished his wand forward. Light erupted from the tip to bind Nikos.
And a duel began that made everyone stand, eyes wide, watching. And Ron suddenly felt very, very small.
***
And we will see this duel tomorrow, along with (finally) our bad guy couple and what they're up to. And after that, we got some Key business ;) Hope you liked this one!
Sindie: Awww! Sorry this was late- but at least it was longer. Do you like?
Syfy: thanks :)
Zoe Bright: Thank you! People in power … are a long, sad story. XD You like Nikos and Septima as a couple? They are not quite sure yet.
See you next time!