Of Wizards, Akuma, and Exorcists
Nineteen: Desires
Disclaimers: I do not own any D. Gray-Man or Harry Potter characters/settings. They rightfully belong to Mr. Hoshino (D. Gray-Man) and Ms. Rowling (Harry Potter). Also, some conversations between the Harry Potter characters are direct quotes from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and that also does not belong to me!
Lenalee nearly trampled him the moment Harry walked into the Gryffindor common room just several minutes before midnight. She grabbed him by his shoulders and led him to an armchair next to Allen, who was playing around with Timcanpy, a book open in his lap. Ron and Hermione looked up as he sat down, and Lavi jolted awake when Lenalee sat down on the arm of his chair. Harry was surprised and happy to see that they'd stayed up waiting for him.
Hermione was looking at him in sympathy with a shadow in her eyes as she pushed a bowl of yellow liquid toward him. "Here," she said, "soak your hand in that, it's a solution of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles."
"It should help," Allen added, smiling sheepishly and glancing at Harry's bleeding hand.
Harry studied the liquid that didn't look much different from water-washed honey. He cautiously dipped his hand into it and let out a breath of relief as the pain and aching of his right hand disappeared miraculously. "Thanks," he said gratefully to Hermione and Allen, who Harry instinctively guessed were the ones who made the solution. Hermione's large cat, Crookshanks, leaped into his lap purring, and Harry lazily scratched behind the cat's ears.
Ron was eyeing the words on Harry's hand with disgust, and Lavi narrowed his eyes at them. "I still reckon you should complain about this," Ron muttered.
Harry's answer was immediate. "No," he said.
"McGonagall would go nuts if she knew-"
"Yeah, she probably would," Harry said, interrupting Ron. "And how long d'you reckon it'd take Umbridge to pass another Decree saying anyone who complains about the High Inquisitor gets sacked immediately?"
Ron looked like one of the Silenced ravens from one of Flitwick's past classes. He slumped back in his chair in defeat, but Hermione was vivid.
"She's an awful woman," she said under her breath. "Awful. You know, I was just saying to Ron when you came in...we've got to do something about her."
"We suggested poison," Ron and Lavi said grimly.
"No...I mean, something about what a dreadful teacher she is," Hermione said as Allen and Lenalee rolled their eyes at the other boys, "and how we're not to lean any defense from her at all."
"Well, what can we do about that?" Ron yawned. "'S too late, isn't it? She got the job, she's here to stay, Fudge'll make sure of that."
"Well," Hermione began tentatively. "You know, I was thinking today..." She glanced nervously at Harry and said in a firmer voice, "I was thinking that- maybe the time's come when we should just- just do it ourselves."
"Do what ourselves?" Harry asked, feeling and sounding suspicious, still floating his hand in the essense of murtlap tentacles.
"Well- learn Defense Against the Dark Arts ourselves," Hermione said.
"Come off it," Ron groaned. "You want us to do extra work? D'you realize are behind on homework and it's only the second week?"
"But-"
"It's still the second?" Lavi asked, surprised, then groaned. "Oh, God, that's worse on our case...Panda geezer's going to..."
Lenalee muttered something about not being able to believe and getting expelled. Allen sighed, a nervous and awkward grin on his face as Timcanpy floated around his head.
Hermione ignored the three Exorcists and turned to Ron. "This is more important than homework!" she said.
"I didn't think there was anything in the universe more important than homework," Ron mumbled.
"Don't be silly, of course there is!" Hermione retorted, her eyes, Harry noted, glimmering with the same excitement as when she was talking about S.P.E.W. on the first day of classes. "It's about preparing ourselves, like Harry said in Umbridge's first lesson, for what's waiting out there. It's about making sure we really can defend ourselves. If we don't learn anything for a whole year-"
Ron cut in, looking defeated. "We can't to much by ourselves," he said. "I mean, all right, we can go an look jinxes up in the library and try and practice them, I suppose-"
"No, I agree, we've gone past the stage where we can just learn things out of books," Hermione interrupted. "We need a teacher, a proper one, who can show us how to use spells and correct us if we're going wrong."
"If you're talking about Lupin..."
"No, no, I'm not talking about Lupin," Hermione said. "He's too busy with the Order and anyways, the most we could see him is during the Hogsmeade weekends, and that's not nearly often enough."
"Who, then?" Allen and Harry asked at once.
A look of understanding shone in Lenalee's eyes as Hermione sighed deeply and said, "Isn't it obvious? I'm talking about you, Harry."
At that moment, Allen and Lavi sent each other surprised looks before they turned to Harry, who'd gone silent.
"About me what?" Harry said after a moment.
"I'm talking about you teaching us Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione said.
Harry stared at Hermione with a look of disbelief. Allen didn't blame his shock, but he also agreed with Hermione's idea. Harry was, indeed, fit to be a teacher, considering his experiences and knowledge; if anybody survived an encounter with Lord Voldemort, maybe he could do anything.
Lenalee smiled as Ron frowned at the carpeted floor for a few second, deep in thought, and said, "That's an idea."
"What's an idea?" Harry asked.
"You. Teaching us to do it," Ron replied.
"But..." Harry said, a foolish grin creeping onto his face. "But I'm not a teacher, I can't-"
"Harry, you're the best in the year at Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione said.
"Me?" Harry asked, his grin growing wider. "No I'm not, you've beaten me in every test-"
"Actually, I haven't," Hermione replied coolly, although there was a red tint to her cheeks. "You beat me in our third year- the only year we both sat the test and had a teacher who actually knew the subject. But I'm not talking about test results, Harry. Look what you've done!"
"How d'you mean?" Harry asked again. Allen glanced at the boy, who was either playing dumb or honestly didn't know how much he'd done compared to most people his age. His experience rate could probably rival that of an Exorcist, Allen thought.
"You know what, I'm not sure I want someone this stupid teaching me," Ron said to Hermione, winking slightly at Allen and smirking. Turning to Harry, he plastered on the look of utmost concentration, drawled, "Let's think. Uh...first year- you saved the Stone from You-Know-Who."
"But that was luck," Harry argued, "that wasn't skill-"
"Second year," Ron said, not giving Harry time to talk, "you killed the basilisk and destroyed Riddle."
"Yea, but if Fawkes hadn't turned up I-"
"Third year," Ron's voice grew in volume, "you fought off about a hundred dementors at once-"
"You know that was a fluke, if the Time-Turner hadn't-"
"Last year," Ron was almost shouting, and Allen wondered why nobody had come down from the dormitories yet, "you fought off You-Know-Who again-"
"Listen to me!" Harry snapped, nearly furiously, at the smirking faces of both Ron and Hermione. Allen and Lavi shrank back in their seats, trying to hide their sudden fear of an angry Harry. Lenalee simply sat silently beside Lavi, watching Harry as he glared at all of them.
"Just listen to me, alright?" Harry demanded. "It sounds great when you say it like that, but all that stuff was luck- I didn't know what I was doing half the time, I didn't plan any of it, I just did whatever I could think of, and I nearly always had help- Don't sit there grinning like you know better than I do, I was there, wasn't I?" For Ron and Hermione were still smirking. Harry's glare intensified, and he continued. "I know what went on, alright? And I didn't get through any of that because I was brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts, I got through it all because- because help came at the right time, or because I guessed right- bit I just blundered through it all, I didn't have a clue what I was doing- STOP LAUGHING!"
Harry jumped to his feet, the bowl of murtlap essense crashing to the floor. Hermione's cat, Crookshanks leapt of his lap and hid under a sofa, hissing. The smile on Ron and Hermione's faces vanished immediately.
"You don't know what it's like!" Harry yelled, apparently forgetting about the Exorcists. "You- neither of you- you've never had to face him, have you? You think it's just memorizing a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you're in class or something? The whole time you're sure you know there's nothing between you and dying except your own- your own brain or guts or whatever- like you can think straight when you know you're about a second from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friends die- they've never taught us that in their classes, what it's like to deal with things like that- and you two sit there acting like I'm a clever little boy to be standing here, alive, like Diggory was stupid, like he messed up- you just don't get it, that could just as easily have been me, it would have been if Voldemort hadn't needed me-"
Ron's face had gone pale, all of his freckles standing out clearly. "We weren't saying anything like that, mate," he said weakly. "We weren't have a go at Diggory, we didn't- you've got the wrong end of this-"
"Harry," Hermione said, taking over, "don't you see? This...this is exactly why we need you...We need to know what it's r-really like...facing him...facing V-Voldemort."
At those words, Harry calmed down significantly. Sitting back down, he looked mornfully at the smashed murtlap essense on the floor and winced slightly, his hand twitching. He was still breathing hard.
"Well...think about it," Hermione whispered. "Please?"
Harry nodded, and Hermione stood up, followed by Lenalee.
"Well, I'm off to bed. Erm..."
"'Night," Lenalee said for her, and the two girls disappeared into the dormitory.
Ron and Lavi had both stood up as well. "Coming?" Ron asked.
Allen sent Harry a look, and Harry glanced at the murtlap essense again. "Yeah," he said. "In...in a minute. I'll just clear this up." He motioned to the broken bowl, and Ron left after nodding, Lavi trailing after him.
Harry made to take out his wand, already muttering the beginning of a charm, when, Allen said, "Reparo," and the broken china pieces mended themselves. Except for the stain on the carpet, there was no hint that anything had been spilled or broken. "Are you alright?" Allen asked.
Harry groaned. "I feel like a git," he spat. "Ron's right- I was on the wrong end of it all."
Allen smiled softly. "Hermione does have a point, about needing you to be a teacher, because you're one of the only people in this castle who knows it all. Not just the magic, but the enemy," he said calmly.
"I know they don't think I'm some little genius who can evade death," Harry said, hanging his head, "but the way they were just grinning..."
"It's very rare in your world that people like you exist, isn't it?"
"People like me?" Harry repeated.
Timcanpy flew rested on Allen's head, swinging his tail merrily. Allen himself was playing with his glove, his scaly red hand reflecting the glow from the fireplace. The green jewel-like cross that was embedded in it- the Innocence- glimmered a holy power. "The Black Order is full of people like me and you," Allen said. "Well, it's rare you come across a cursed person, but we all know what it's like to face possible death, and despite what many people say, it's unusual that skill helps you win a battle. Luck, comrades, help..."
Harry shook his head. "Even if I teach anyone defensive magic," he said, "what use would that be? Kids aren't allowed to fight Voldemort- much less come across him in a place like Hogwarts. Nobody believes me anyways, so what's the point? I'm not even sure if I want to be here- not completely sure. After I saw the Order...I wanted to help them. Here, I can't do anything, and playing teacher to a bunch of kids isn't going to help me do anything either!"
"Anything?" it was Allen's turn to repeat Harry's words. "Harry, let me ask you this. What do you want to do?"
"What do I want to...?"
Allen nodded, smiling, and stood up from his seat. "It's something someone told me before. My weapon was destroyed, I was wounded, everyone else was fighting, and I thought I was useless, I couldn't do anything...then she came up to me and asked me that.
"Harry, what do you want to do? What's your reason for doing something? Where do you want to end up?" Allen asked.
"I-"
"Harry, Allen?" Ron called. "What're you two doing? C'mon, let's go to sleep."
"Allen, we've got an equally busy day 'morrow," Lavi added.
"Coming!" Allen replied. He turned to Harry, smiling. "Think about that, why don't you? When you find your answer to that, I'm sure you'll see the point in becoming a teacher."
Harry jumped to his feet. "Wait- Allen, what do you-?"
But Allen shook his head and was gone with a swish of his black coat.