Chapter 6

Frieda Verwirreman was already settling in well. She thought Prudence a very nice girl – especially in comparison to those who had largely made fun of her at Durmstrang, those who did not having largely ignored her outside the odd offhand kindness – and Muriel and Leneli too in their dormitory seemed pleasant enough. Leneli had been a little defensive about being a half goblin; but she had warmed to Frieda when the German girl had asked if it actually mattered to any but blood snobs who were surely to be pitied for actually caring.

Frieda had also met with Tibbles, the school Griffon and made an instant friend; to the admiration of Professor Ross, as Ross Tuthill was to be known.

The three Tuthills were hoping to settle in well; Ross had cheerfully deserted the secretaryship of Hogwarts since David Fraser was quite capable of running his own web site, which had been the majority of Ross's duties under the policy of concealing by obviousness; his sister was looking forward to working beside people who were not, in her words, egregious morons who aspired to imbecility when they grew up. This was a rather blatant Snapism but Ross let it go; it meant that Freya was just glad to be back working alongside Severus Snape and family rather than with the less than able Department of Mysteries.

She had brought with her copies of a number of files of supposed mysteries that fascinated her and planned to do private research. Ross had every expectation that Freya, with collusion from others of Severus' team, would get further in research in her first year despite teaching full time than the Department of Mysteries would be likely to get working flat out for a decade.

Their studies on heritance had been a laugh – or would have been had it not been used during Voldemort's brief control of the ministry to run pogrums on muggleborn witches and wizards

Vladimir Malfoy, working with the advantage of understanding muggle genetics, had been able to demonstrate clear correlations on Malfoy lines and showed quite clearly that Salazar Gaunt Moody and Bryony Nuffield were demonstrably of the same descent though there had been no wizarding blood known in Bryony's line for more than the twelve generations the child's mother had traced their family tree. Freya was interested in fey artefacts too and hoped to chat to Seagh about the same.

Happiest of all of the Tuthill family was Heather Burns Tuthill, Ross's little red haired wife; who had gate-crashed Hogwarts after reading 'Carola Storms the Chalet School'; and was delighted to be at something almost akin to her beloved Chalet School, right down to the uniform which at Jade's suggestion was the brown and flame of the original Chalet School, which had been set in the stories in Austria as Prince Peak was. Heather had come a long way from being a much bullied child in a Comprehensive school to have become a witch – with a little help to boost her meagre abilities from the Other Blood Group – and was now an outgoing and confident young woman happy to teach in a Chalet School like atmosphere in the slightly old fashioned way of the wizarding world.

oOoOo

Lydia, still bubbling over being Madam Krumm, did not really feel that she counted as a new teacher; though she had not come to Prince Peak to go to school, she felt she knew it well enough from all she had heard from Jade, and her various parents too; such that her first chanting class on Monday morning, being third years, she felt that she already knew even those students she had not met. Lucy Ingate had grown up as a near sister to her; and Vava and Hette Breuer and Sylvana Nachtigall were around the castle when Lydia was holidaying there, as was Rudi Schiff; and Beta Kalinka was a resident. So too was Sarah Elliot when her parents were in such places as would cause problems to her asthma. Lydia looked around the six she had never met.

"Well no prizes to me for guessing Mr Borek" she nodded to the only male goblin in the class "The two who are joined at the hip are undoubtedly Miss Hallow and Miss Yaxley and as I know that Miss Yaxley looks enough like a Malfoy to have the opprobrium of being some specie of cousin of mine so I can guess which is which. Miss Elliot I know and is doubtless sitting next to Miss Gesler; and Miss Blaise is therefore the one who is of a bunch with Miss Ingate, Miss Nachtigall and Miss Kalinka. Miss Schiff, being a Marauder, is then the one with the ubiquitous twins. I have to say you two boys must feel quite oppressed amongst such a monstrous regiment of not-yet-women."

Henik Borek grinned.

"We mostly ignore them Professor; they are largely harmless."

"I am glad you feel able to; just watch yourselves when your class gets to go to the ball" she warned. "Let's start with some warming up voice exercises and then I'll do an all class viva voce to check that you know all I expect you to know so I have some idea what level of prep to set."

Miss Bat had not been the world's most effective teacher; but the class was well grounded in theory and getting rid of the few bad habits they had picked up would not take much effort.

"You seem well prepared" said Lydia "I expect we shall come across the odd thing I would have covered early that your previous teacher has not; or I may teach something you have already covered with her. Do let me know; I can't know if you've missed something or are about to do it over if you don't tell me. Very good, I want you to pick an appropriate poetry style and write a brief chant to repel spiders. Brief notes on the reasons for your choices, including choice of form, length of line or number of lines and so on to be included; you have ten minutes of the lesson left and you may make a start on your prep now. This is the time in which I shall permit quiet discussion and it better be quiet or you'll be spending the day communicating by sign language."

This was the sort of thing that had to be made clear to third years who had as a general rule very little in the way of volume control. It was fortunately a fairly academic class and they set to with a will and actually very little chatter. Lydia was well pleased with them.

The lower sixth were NOT an academic year; but Lydia had only three students in the persons of the Lowther twins and Rory; the fourth of their set, Randolph, reckoning that he had enough on his plate with four NEWTs and an extra OWL in Magical Art taken alongside.

Among the rest of the Lower Sixth, it may be said that Frieda had been surprised to find the lower sixth considered a non academic year since four of them were taking five NEWTs and a further four were taking four; including her new friend Pru. Three were taking a fairly standard three; and the two NEWTs Frieda was taking were two more than she had ever expected to be permitted to study. She was glad that Pru would be in both classes; and she was also grateful that Professor Snape had assigned her extra help from the big genial young man he introduced as his ward, Victor Crabbe, who was to go over her lessons with her and check that she knew how to do the homework from them. Being able to read more fluently – thanks to Frau Professor Von Luytens who was Professor Snape's daughter – meant that she was already hopeful that she would pass and maybe more than pass her NEWTs; having managed passes in all four of the ZPs she had taken and scraping an 'E' on her care of magical beasts.

Pru was a little nervous, it has to be said, on her four subjects; or rather on her Astronomy that she was taking from her own study with some tutorials from Professor Snape.

Severus had asked to borrow some notes from Professor Sinistra in Hogwarts to help out Pru; and Aurora Sinistra had readily obliged. It would all help.

The Lower Sixth were determined to be querky; with Pru and Randolph both studying things on their own time and all of them making such random choices of subject that timetabling them all had been sheer hell. And at least the two who were taking care of magical beasts as WELL as care of domestic beasts were happy to have that scheduled in an evening class by an enthusiastic Ross Tuthill who, having been but a senior to Mungo Fraser two years before, would probably drop all formality and just be 'Ross' in that class. And fortunately Marius was alone in wanting to study History and so should be able to delve into European History with Percy, that would likely be another evening class over tea and cakes. Rory's solitary pursuit of Herbology required a daytime slot in the greenhouses but as a chaperone in the form of Fagia, the dryad, was likely to turn up to croon hopefully at him – at least as soon as her tree's sap started to rise – Valerie Burdock need not feel nervous at being alone with a young man. She would too doubtless schedule his class for a period when Elsie Blackwood, solitary upper sixth Herbology student, was in there undertaking free study and personal projects.

Elsie had very little free time; she was taking eight NEWTs which was ridiculous by anyone's standards. Chanting was one of them, and when Lydia heard the four upper sixth chanters, Elsie, Sebastian, Irmi and Darryl she told them that frankly there was little she could teach them as they appeared to have progressed more than well enough, which as they had studied under her father was scarcely surprising.

"And I caught up in large part due to you and Mimi" said Darryl "We were hoping to look into some of the more esoteric chanting forms; using numerology and perhaps descending into the less well known forms like Lilith's famous Hebrew poetry."

"Lilith is a law unto herself as I'm sure all of you are well aware" said Lydia "Very well we'll also wander off onto the paths of using the power of twenty three. Elsie, I have to say, if you find any other classes hard going I suspect you could get an 'O' if you took the damn exam tomorrow."

"That's as maybe but I LIKE learning things even if they are outside the exam" said Elsie. "I have no idea what I'm going to do when I leave school; I just picked the interesting things."

"A polymath like you –and Darryl hardly less so – and m'sister Jade ought to be teaching" said Lydia "If I were you, I'd pick a small school and offer to take two or three abstruse subjects like chanting and ancient runes and you'd just get the kids who were interested; or set up a school with your friend Emily, who's more than capable of teaching DADA as well as sports; and give a rounded education to OWL level. She's taking Potions and Charms, isn't she; there's a school in Berlin run by two sisters who manage four ZP's. It means having two or three classes all together on different levels."

"If we could get a couple of others we could do quite a good job actually" said Emily.

"I am thinking too of teaching, to help out with more schools for the poor" said Irmi "And Sebastian will be with me" she blushed "We might do worse than combine as a four."

"And maybe Mimi and me; IF the damned Germans can get over having fits over an elf being 'professor'" said Darryl.

"And as well as finding that out to check first if Emily IS keen" said Lydia. "Very well; chanting using numerology; aiming a chant at a specific person and tailoring the number of lines and syllables accordingly. You need not use this in the exam; it's way beyond what they're looking for by the way, though if you have time it should earn brownie points. Victor?"

Victor Crabbe had knocked and come in.

"Darryl let me know you're getting esoteric and interesting and I wondered if I could sit in" he said.

"By all means; I kind of picked up different stuff to what Dad teaches so I'll look forward to sitting in on him talking at you" said Lydia. "We were exploring the use of numerology in chanting."

"THAT sounds like Lilith had a hand in it" grinned Victor.

"No prizes for the guess" said Lydia.

oOoOo

Meanwhile Freya Tuthill was busy introducing the subject of Comparative Magic to second years and later fourth years; the fourth who were to study it were only those who had opted for it as an elective and as a small class might hope thereby to study enough to prepare them for the exam. Having only four years' worth of students and assorted oddballs was a nice easy introduction to teaching, thought Freya!

Actually she had three oddballs in the fifth who would take their OWLs this year; almost as many as the fourth where she had a class of four.

The second were getting a general overview, as would the third as well as the first; the first three years really gave background, and anyone who took up the subject older must needs do a lot of background reading. The second however all seemed intelligent and eager and ready to take on the concept of different customs in the approach to magic and different views of sundry magical creatures.

The students in the fourth were the marauders in the year; and Freya did not even need to be told that. There was a look to the eyes of marauders that saw further horizons than most; and BaHH, Batty, Yrdl and Crow approached Comparative Magic with the view to using it mixed and matched in other spells and – no doubt – japes. And doubtless if they pulled one it would be a daisy, since it was an unwritten rule that japes were below one in the fifth and older. Freya introduced Voodoo to them and was pleased by the intelligent responses and the queries over the differences between an inferius and a voudon-created zombie; and the question from Yrdl over whether the dual nature of the loa reflected the capricious nature of great form fey spirits and whether this was in any way connected to equally ambiguous so-called gods of old religions like Loki. Freya was able to say that it was highly likely that either powerful wizards or powerful fey had taken the forms of gods, originally muggle intellectual constructs to explain the forces of nature; and may have been responsible for such apparent caprice. The older of the Bee Marauders voted it a good lesson and Professor Tuthill 'starchy but knows her stuff'.

oOoOo

Term was off with a swing; and Severus was starting his calculations for the ritual to break the compulsion of elves in Europe to self punish; it would be a ticklish piece of work to get it right.

Getting Spain included was going to be a problem; and Severus sat and drew circles on a map.

To include the tip of Portugal south of Lisbon required too including parts of North Africa; and England would be covered a second time. That would do no harm however, merely reiterating the earlier ritual. And he must calculate the exact distance from the edge of the circle that would be also suitable for those would prefer not to have to stand on the waves of the North Atlantic Ocean. And even so they could not reach far into the vast expanse that was Russia; the circle would not even reach the Urals unless it were expanded southwards too; and Severus was loath to do that. It would be hard enough as it stood, with some chanters in sub tropical zones and other in the perpetual darkness within the arctic circle. Only by blood pulse could the timing be perfect.

At least Durmstrang School was sufficiently close to the centre of his first best guess circle to make a few adjustments; and then he might contact Agata Bacsó and talk very fast about how he believed that the Great Form Fey Spirits fed on the fear, pain and despair of their enslaved relatives, house elves, even as Dementors fed on despair; and that was enough to make Durmstrang's headmistress capitulate. She knew more about great form spirits than was comfortable.

They should have thirty six chanting stations; one every ten degrees. And every third one should be the one marked with the heart's blood of the willing sacrifice – Clovis Gierek and his elven wife Tildi to take the blood – and where possible they should be of the blood of the fey. Not elves or goblins, who had been servants of the high fey; and however good at chanting they might be, such must be excluded since there might be some clause that could invalidate the whole chant. But those of high fey blood who had chosen the human way, they were powerful. Which was to say any Malfoy; and Jade's friend Traudl; and of course Seagh. And it would not harm to have Lucius chanting too; he was very good. And that meant the twelve cardinal points would have those of highfey blood; Krait, Jade, Lydia, Lilith, Lucius, Draco, Traudl, Seagh, Sephara, Hawke, Abraxus and Myrtle; who had been made of Abraxus' flesh and so counted. And in all Thirty six; and as many again to take over as they flagged, or to hold the chant to hold the circle until the sun rose for those further west; and an elf for each pair and moreover another person who could apparate as a helper, or who might fetch aid. The goblins and elves of the blood group would be invaluable here. With the muggle intravenous drip and that muggle invention Draco – and how like Draco! – had used the first time, the motorman's friend it should be less arduous; even for those holding the chant for eight hours. More would be chanting; but many more would be supporting. Severus wrote down lists; and not all of the secondary chanters were blooded. They would have less to do, so having less support was less necessary. And after that then there were almost three times as many who were too young to chant or who were elves or goblins who might feed power as there were chanting groups, even leaving out those too young to understand. Whereas last time they had needed to commit almost all their resources to chanters.

His role might be a problem; for he must keep the ritual going for the full twelve hours.

He went to talk to Godfrey Goodchild.

"Help me to replace some of the chant with some instrument I can play without using my voice; harp or such" said Severus when he had explained.

"Harp is appropriate to the Gaelic you're using; but so is a bodhran" said Godfrey "It's an old, old type of drum; shallow and open at one end, and cross pieces inside that are held and a striker to play upon it, different notes acquired from the centre to the edge and a complexity possible on it that makes it a sweet instrument… Seagh know more than me, he told me about it."

"Then you and he must devise me a bodhran that will do, a measure that will take the place of the chant and then teach me to perform it" said Severus.

Seagh and Godfrey put their heads together; and Seagh went to every free elf he knew and asked for the sacrifice of a square of skin some two inches square. For the freeing of others none refused him; it was a pain far less than the pains they had been forced to impose on themselves for thinking disloyal thoughts.

And Seagh chanted around his collected pieces of skin and they grew together into a single skin; and with that he covered the bodhran and told Severus what had made it.

"And the body of it is wood given freely from their trees by our local dryads to limit the power of the frightening ones" he said.

"A powerful ritual instrument" said Severus, awed.

Such willing sacrifice added to the intrinsic power of any music played on the drum; and Severus hoped to do the beautiful instrument justice. And it was beautiful. Seagh had carved a pattern onto the drum, advised by Randolph, that would increase the volume and the effect of the beat; and he had rubbed and polished the wood and waxed it and polished it. And the soft, thin elf skin head was strengthened by spell and gave a fine clear tone when tapped.

Randolph was no chanter, but when Seagh had told him what was afoot he offered suggestion to Severus that a painted circle of power magnification would not come amiss; and nor would a protective circle of pain reduction for Clovis.

Severus accepted; and told him to write it up, and the drum pattern because there was no reason it should not go into his Art OWL.

Randolph snorted.

"A fig for the qualification; it's keeping you safe, sir, and doing the job that is my business; and I don't chant. I can serve in this wise instead, and be in the circle with you to add extra lines of protection if the fey decide to get stroppy; and to feed you my strength."

"Then bless you, my boy; I gladly accept" said Severus "I shall need it" he grinned "But we should NOT get disturbed by the fey; there's a fey exclusion line all around Durmstrang castle. Jade put it up so I should think it's rather secure."

"Rather!" agreed Randolph.

It seemed almost extraordinary that school life went on as usual around so momentous a plan; but go on it did.

oOoOo

Part of what went on was the minor unpleasantness over Jöran Ulvaeus.

Callum Prince took all the art students at once, once a week; as art was so individual he spent an entire afternoon perusing their personal projects and making assessment and suggestion and generally set a project for the next week's work.

It would be unfair to say that Callum was feeling unwontedly tetchy; but he was perhaps feeling less tolerant than usual since he had a ten month old son who was teething and nights were a trifle broken by an infant with a runny nose and equally runny bottom which symptoms so often accompany the acquisition of teeth.

Jöran had laid out his work with a flourish and had covertly looked over the offerings of the others; and was amazed by the professional looking work Randolph Wright had on display, including a very competent portrait of Draco Malfoy, who was well enough photographed to be recognisable to anyone; which lifted a haughty chin and gently sneered though of course it did not speak; wizarding portraits of people still living behaving only as wizarding photographs did, acting as the original might. Which meant that the portrait of Draco Malfoy stuck its tongue out at Jöran.

As well as Randolph and Paul the other artists were Roseli Accola, though Jöran was certain that a half goblin could scarcely produce any work of merit, and yet he was surprised by her standard; Sarah Elliot; and Werner Wasner, another part goblin whose work surely could not be as good as that? And Paul's work was better than it ought to be at his age!

Callum greeted them all when he came into the room and bade them stand by their work so he might see what they had been up to in the long holidays. He looked long at Randolph's.

"There's not a lot more I can actually teach you, you know Randy old man" he said "Though I do think you still use too bright a palette."

"It's being happy" said Randolph. "I don't go as far as Churchill to be sorry for browns and greys; because brights don't show up so good without neutrals and darks to put them against. But I guess I paint with an optimistic palette."

"Understood" said Callum. "Can you see though here on the portrait of Alastor Moody that it might just be a little TOO bright? Draco's a flamboyant bastard – goes with the family – so it won't affect that; but if someone's using that to connect to Vigilance Breeches after he's passed beyond the veil, having a touch of the sombres about it will make a better connection. Do you see?"

Randolph considered.

"I do see" he said. "I took the sketches when he was rejoicing proudly that his son was starting Hogwarts; so I guess I let that colour my judgement as well as the palette."

"Well I can see him rejoicing over a bit of peace; Salazar IS a young limb" grinned Callum. "Joking apart, I know EXACTLY what you mean; I felt like that when Severin cut his first tooth. The feeling palls several teeth on I do assure you! Knock back some of those mid shades and put in a thundery sky rather than a blue one; it hints at the trouble he's seen and then he'll show up as a bright light of justice against it without having to be quite as…. No, garish is a harsh way to put it and untrue; optimistic, that's the word."

Randolph nodded and got out his colours.

Callum moved to Roseli.

"Yes, your draughtsmanship is stronger since last year" he said "You've worked hard on that; now I can say it's a well draughted piece of work as well as being pretty. Without the word pretty being intended as derogatory; prettiness is only a fault where line and composition are weak. You've always had a good feel for composition; and your use of colour is good. I like the blue robe of the witch against the golden wheat and her golden hair against the blue sky and the way it whips in the wind to lead your eye round to the poppy field beyond. And you've placed just a nice amount of movement on the wheat with the gentle breeze. Are you going to fill her arms with dog daisies and poppies?"

"I was thinking of it; I wondered if it were trite" said Roseli.

"Of course it's trite; but that's because it tends to work" said Callum. "She needs something in her hands; you could give her a liver and white spaniel I suppose; or put a hawk on her wrist that she be clearing vermin from the fields; or a book that she is on her way to study under the shady tree that frames the composition. Or a baby. Think about it; don't make any hasty decision; do two or three colour sketches with pencils and blu-tac each of them over the main painting. Handy stuff, blu-tac; it's a muggle invention. Here" he delved in his own artist's case and passed a ball of pale blue stuff to Roseli. "Warm it and pull off what you need; it fixes stuff to walls. Can tear paper when you take it off. You don't need huge amounts and it's infinitely reusable, can be all rolled together again" he added.

Roseli murmured thanks and got out coloured pencils as Callum moved on. He pointed out a small error in draughtsmanship to Sarah, praising her industry too; and told Werner,

"Once again, Werner, you are letting yourself be too controlled; it is starting to lack spontaneity. Do me some big loose sketchy ones and THEN you may reduce them to your careful line drawings; you are not creating a photograph."

"Yes sir; but my small ones have improved, haven't they?" asked Werner.

"Oh yes; but you should remember to keep the techniques you use for working drawings for metalwork separate from your art" said Callum.

"Sir" said Werner; and Callum moved to Paul.

"Ah, young Paul" said Callum "At school at last; I wager being the youngest that feels good?"

"Yes, sir" said Paul.

Callum looked over his work; Paul had brought the picture of the leopard. Callum nodded.

"That IS rather your best piece. Do you know WHY it is your best?"

"Is it because I just drew her without thinking too hard about it because I knew I shouldn't have much time to do it if she fell off?" said Paul.

"It is" said Callum "And you had the sense to realise the spontaneity was what made it special; and that's as much what an artist needs to learn as any technique. The sense to know when to stop."

"I'm lucky to have a good friend who, though he's not an artist himself, knows enough not to let me spoil things" said Paul.

"A good friend then" said Callum "And worth training perhaps; he may sit in if he likes. He may learn enough to teach; and I'll give him some techniques to that end if he's interested."

"Thank you sir; Reaz will probably leap at it for interest's sake" said Paul. "He has a good eye."

Callum turned to Jöran.

"You must then be Jöran" he said. "These are pieces you have done recently to show me?"

"Yes sir" said Jöran. "Naturally my style is unformed at my tender age."

"Oh I shouldn't worry about your style until you've learned enough basic technique to feel competent enough to want to look for a style" said Callum "Paul is sufficiently well advanced to consider a style; and judging by his leopard sketch I'm about to introduce him to Chinese brush work. You've a good raw talent underlying this, my lad, but I fear it's going to take a deal of work on your part and mine to lose some of the bad habits you've picked up; I presume because you've been trying to get a style before getting the basics. Much of this is rather stilted and over mannered; you'll need to learn to draw freely again. I think what I'll do is to set up some objects – apples and vases – and give you large pieces of paper and child's chalks to get you working freely and then we may move on when you've lost the tightness; that I suspect may have been a mistaken attempt to teach you, without realising that the person who suggested it actually exacerbated the faults you need to deal with. Trying to teach perspective before you have learned to see was a failure of you. But not a problem; we can sort it out."

"I will NOT be insulted and treated as a child! And I read for myself how to make perspective; it is an advanced technique, I am very advanced not to daub and scrawl with chalks!" cried Jöran.

"An advanced technique, yes" said Callum dryly "More advanced than your capability which is why you have failed to master it; because you can't draw in perspective until you learn how to draw. And I do not treat you as a child; rather I give you the compliment of expecting you to want to learn and to lift your native talent to give it justice. You need to go back to basics because any teacher you have had up to now has been failing you in encouraging you to draw outside your capabilities and not knowing how to correct what has been drawn."

"A TRUE artist does not NEED to be told when they are doing something right!" cried Jöran.

"Possible a genius might not; but you're not that, laddie" said Callum sharply "You're also not very polite. And if you cannot see that there is much that needs correcting in your work, nor are you true to yourself; and an artist who is not true to himself is no true artist. Tell me, DO you want my instruction at all or do you want to tell me that you are satisfied with the scrawls you have brought me and do not care for constructive criticism on them? Because if you will not accept my teaching you how to overcome the bad habits you apparently have taught into yourself I'm not prepared to have a loud and rude little boy in my class."

"You HAVE to teach me; you're paid to do so!" shouted Jöran.

"Actually, if I were paid, I should still have the right to exclude any pupil; as it happens I teach this class unpaid solely as a favour to my cousin Severus Snape" said Callum with a dangerous quiet to his voice that suddenly put Jöran in mind of the head "And you know, actually, whether you are prepared to take my strictures or not, for THAT piece of insolence I DO exclude you from my class; get out and take your travesty of what you call art with you. You are foul to speak to anyone like that, and to speak to a member of staff as though I were a servant at your nasty beck and call is the outside of enough. Why are you still here?"

Jöran stared aghast at the furious face of the artist that now looked so much like Professor Snape's that he almost wet himself. He grabbed up his drawings and his portfolio and fled.

oOoOo

Serrik gan Torgar later heard sobbing in the toilet and went to see what was wrong.

He hesitated, seeing that it was Jöran.

"Look here Ulvaeus, Coventry is one thing but I'll listen if you tell me what's up and I'll see if I can sort it out" he said.

Jöran rounded on him.

"What good are YOU?" he said "You know NOTHING about art, Nothing!"

"No I don't" said Serrik "But I do know that the other artists are in class and so I'm wondering why you're out here. You haven't been such a fool as to piss off Professor Prince, have you?"

"None of your business!" snapped Jöran.

"Suit yourself" said Serrick. He went and used the facilities – which was why he had been there in the first place – and rejoined Wilhelm.

"I think I ought to talk to the head" he said, telling Wilhelm why.

oOoOo

Severus listened to Serrik, who had carefully explained that he did not intend this as sneaking but as passing on something that was beyond him and the other marauders in the class. Serrik gave a concise tale of the history of Jöran and the first, including his sending to Coventry over calling Paul a liar; and that the boy was now crying in the loo.

Severus thanked him; and went to find Jöran.

He induced the Swedish boy to tell him all about it.

"Well now my boy" he said "If you had taught yourself to brew potions and had got some bad habits, like not stirring right to the bottom, wouldn't you expect to have that corrected when you got to school by a professor who is an expert in the field?"

"But SIR, you can't compare potions to drawing!" Cried Jöran.

"True; any idiot can make marks on paper after all; a potioneer has to be born to be great" said Severus "The greatest art in the wizarding world was perhaps a poor example to pick to compare. Ah, now, how do you like YOUR art belittled? For I find your belittling of MY art, a creative art when it is done consummately, quite insulting. I do wish, you silly little boy, you would think before opening your mouth and insulting people; I understand your own honour is in question since you called another a liar. Since it is usually liars who call the fault on others. I think you are no liar but a rather self opinionated little boy with less to be self opinionated about than you believe. And I assure you that my cousin was NOT intending insult to you by trying to help you lose the bad habits you have acquired; apart from Arithmancy your entrance exam was not so good that I should have accepted you had not Callum advised me that he could break the bad habits of your drawing to turn you into a good artist. You are here on the grounds of your art; do you really intend to throw that away? Do you want to be an artist?"

"Yes sir" said Jöran, subdued.

"Then I suggest you come with me and apologise to Professor Prince; and ask him to give you another chance; and promise faithfully to obey his strictures" said Severus.

"He was so ANGRY!" said Jöran

"And quite understandably, the way you spoke to him" said Severus. "You have given yourself a bad name; but I don't think you're as bad a boy as you seem to go out of your way to appear. Just rather arrogant and inclined to look at things from a skewed angle. Come!"

Jöran found himself stumbling through an apology to Professor Prince and to the class for disrupting it; and Callum nodded acceptance and waved him to a chair; where under instruction he was soon drawing an apple using black and white chalk only and concentrating – for the first time in his life – on the tonal values and the shape of the fruit and its shadows.

And Professor Prince nodded at the first warning bell for kafee und kuchen and said,

"THAT's an improvement laddie; and I want you to practise all week doing single objects like that. A book, a fruit, a vase. Simple things. And KEEP LOOKING at them; see how lifelike you've managed to make it for looking?"

And Jöran had – grudgingly – to admit that it was the best thing he had ever done even though he hated the feel of the big chalks in his fingers.

And Severus was waiting to talk to the boy.

"I should think" he said quietly "If you were to apologise for calling whichever lad it was a liar for whatever it was, you might find the other kids as willing to forgive as Professor Prince."

They ought to; he had leaned on the marauders through Serrik to give the boy a chance.

And Jöran, who had enjoyed himself more than he had realised he might, managed to stumble through an apology for doubting Paul's word, because he had not realised that anyone so young could be so accomplished. And Paul, who knew what his guardian would expect, shook his hand, and the others nodded and murmured acceptance. Jöran had missed his chance to make friends but he was at least likely to be treated with something between tolerance and amused contempt.