A Cruce Salus
Chapter 6
The plans that I had were quickly destroyed / The problem was one I couldn't avoid / They welcomed me to stay overnight / I'm too tired to complain so I just might / And I wonder
Will I ever make it home / To the place I recognize / Far from here and where I've been / And all the places that I've been shown / Will I ever make it home / Can they keep me here for good / Where I hardly know a soul / And my fear keeps going on
(( Will I Ever Make It Home by Ingram Hill ))
Previously:
Yes, Thursday couldn't come faster for them.
And so when it did, they were the first ones outside her door.
The door to the classroom was open. The Marauders walked in, grateful it was finally time for the lesson they had heard so much about.
James snorted out loud at the thought of him looking forward to a class. Unfortunately, a group of passing girls were walking in when he did and they took it offensively. Sitting down in a huff on the other side of the room, they began talking furiously about "that Potter" and "do we really look that bad?"
As more of the combined NEWT level Defense Against the Dark Arts students strode in, their teacher did as well. She was wearing a cleaner, less mangled version of what she'd been wearing that night on Christmas break. Battle robes, they supposed from what she'd told them earlier.
"Right," she began when everyone had been seated, "Ground rules."
A few people groaned.
"Well, more like ground rule. Don't ever call me Professor or Professor Davidson. It makes me feel too much older than I am. It'd be like one of your classmates calling you Sir, or Ma'am every time they saw you. Samara's fine, as long as you don't call me Sam."
At this, most looked appreciatively at their peers.
"I kind of jumped into this at an odd time, so would anyone like to tell me what you've covered so far?"
The redhead seated next to James Potter raised her hand slowly after noticing that no one else had.
"Yes, Ms..?"
"Evans, Pr- Samara," said Lily hastily, "We've covered Expelliarmus, werewolves, safety precautions and boggarts."
Samara raised her eyes at this. "That's it?" she asked disbelievingly, "Dumbledore's been teaching you, and that's all you've gotten to?"
Jame's girlfriend hesitated. "Well, we only had about a month with him, which was four classes for us. He taught the safety precautions and was starting going to start up duelling, but we only got to Expelliarmus before he found you."
"I guess I'm really gonna have my work cut out for me..." muttered the professor under her breath, seemingly dissapointed at the progress. To the class, she said, "Right. Now, personally, it's my belief that Defense Against the Dark Arts is the most essential class at Hogwarts. Transfiguration can give you an upperhand, but it's normally a split-second upperhand. Herbology is dead useful and may save your life, but it won't prevent whatever it is that will have given you the need for it. Potions is a combination of that, and Divination won't help you unless you're a true Seer (which I doubt any of you are). As for the rest, well.. I've always said that there's a reason they're optional."
Remus raised his eyebrows ever so slightly at the last comment, while Peter and Sirius shared a brief but enthused glance.
"You all should be well aware that there is a war going on in the outside world. Inside these halls, you are safe. You are protected, and not just by the halls themselves, but by the fact that you are still students. Even if it only lasts a few months, you have that time before you will be forced to face the reality before you. At the moment, all of you are caught in the middle. You are no longer children, but until you make the crucial decisions concerning the paths you will go down, the sides you will choose... you are not yet adults. Believe me, though--you will be, and very soon."
Silence greeted Davidson's ears as she continued passionately with her speech.
"Now that may seem harsh, but the outside world is harsher and it is my job to prepare you for that. I guaruntee you that you will be grateful I'm taking your education seriously. To send you unprepared into the world as it is today would be foolish and unresponsible. I'm not going to sweet-talk your way through this course, because frankly, I don't like liars. If you'd rather be told wonderful falseties about what a nice place the world is, you're telling me that you would rather be dead before the age of thirty."
The better part of the class now listened in rapt attention; even the pencil tapping and nail biting had ceased almost completely.
"What I'm trying to get across to you is that I need you to take this course as seriously as I am. But even having all of that in consideration, know that I am still here to help you and I am not here to be the strict professor that you can't approach. In this classroom I will have you doing what is necessary to your survival in the wizarding world, but that doesn't mean that I can't be your friend. It hasn't been that long since I was a student myself."
Samara looked around at the class's expressions--a collage of surprised, uneasy, intent, apprehensive and appreciative faces greeted her. It was obvious none of them had been expecting such a forward introduction, although essentially all those faces--surprised, uneasy, intent, apprhensive, or appreciative--had some form of respect chiseled in their outline.
Laughing, she said, "Well, now that I've sufficiently unsettled you all, why don't we spend the rest of the class letting everyone else talk? Ask me whatever you want."
She quickly realized that the only people comfortable enough to raise their hands were James, Sirius and Remus. Seemingly not surprised, she called on Sirius.
"If it 'hasn't been that long since you graduated yourself', then how are you so.. so.."
"Old?" supplied James.
Most of his peers turned to stare at him, shocked that he would be at ease enough to risk angering such a vehement professor.
"I wasn't under the impression that I looked that old," she only replied amusedly.
"That's not what he means," Sirius explanied, "what he's trying to say is that you look twenty-five, but you sound fifty."
"What an accurate description, Mr. Black, but as you and your friends already know, I gained this demeanor from being an auror. And believe me, being an auror, you learn and see a lot more than you ever thought you'd have to. Plus, it doesn't hurt that I grew up in.. Lancaster, where the threats are much more real then they are here."
"Yes, Remus?" she added, realizing that the lycanthrope still had his hand raised.
"If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"
Samara grinned almost triumphantly, as though she had been hoping someone would ask that particular question.
"Well," she began, "Sirius seems to think I look twenty-five. What would you guess?"
Remus looked slightly uncomfortable now, hoping he wouldn't say the wrong thing. "Er.. I would suppose.. well, I'd rather think.. twenty-five, maybe?"
"Safe answer, I suppose.. anyone else?"
A few in the rest of the room, more comfortable now that three out of the four Marauders had broken the ice, tentatively raised their hands.
She called on a sandy blonde Ravenclaw named Peyton. "30?" she said carelessly, as though it really didn't concern her.
Sanara's expression was hard to read as she nodded and moved on to Marc, a Hufflepuff. "27," he stated confidently.
The process was repeated for another couple of minutes, until nearly everyone had taken a stab at the professor's age. Most guessed somewhere in the range of 25 to 30, but there were a few Slytherins who coldly answered numbers 35 plus. There were also a few, scattered, who took their chances with ages between 22 and 24, and one Hufflepuff--Chris Sanders--even said fifteen in jest.
Smiling wickedly, Samara gave them the answer they were so curious about. "To be absolutely honest, Chris came the closest. Sorry, Parker," she said distinctly, "but I'm not 37. I'm more something like eighteen."
Staggered, the room fell silent once more, but not for long. People started talking at once, including the Marauders.
"--eighteen!"
"She must've just graduated!"
"--same age as me!"
"So you're saying I could teach next year if--"
"Dumbledore wouldn't have hired me if he didn't think I wasn't more than qualified to teach all of you," she interjected. Noticing the skeptical looks, "All right. That's a lie. But I am more than qualified."
"You're eighteen!" said Chris as though she was out of her mind.
"Age is no measure of experience," she responded, "Because someone is twenty-two, twenty-five, or even thirty-seven, it doesn't guarentee that they have more knowledge or hands-on encounters than someone who is even a decade their prior."
Remus, Peter, Sirius and James, on the other hand, weren't all that surprised. After the initial shock, they realized things made much more sense for her to be a teenager--like why a professor would openly agree to playing a drinking game with her students.
"And what kinds of 'hands-on encounters' have you had?" sneered Parker.
Samara gave a snort of laughter. "Ironic that you should ask that.. but I won't get into that right now. As for what encounters I've had? More than you can know at your age. I haven't been properly schooled since my fifth year, when our headmaster was murdered in cold blood. Since then I've learned more than any institution could teach me. I sincerely hope that none of you ever have to experience some of the tortures that have been practiced on me."
Alice Berkely slowly raised her hand. "Is that why you have that scar on your face? I mean, I don't want to be rude, but it's a little hard not to notice it. Shouldn't that have healed by now?"
"Actually, that's a good point," whispered Remus to his friends.
"Surprised you didn't think of that yet," teased Sirius.
"Neither did you."
"Now, since when have I been claiming to be the smart one?"
Samara, who had apparently been thinking of a way to put into words what she wanted to say, suddenly spoke up.
"The human body is not perfect, and the Cruciatus curse is a very powerful spell. I assume you are all aware of what it is? An extremely Dark curse, and if used, it can guaruntee you a lifetime stay in Azkaban. It triggers the nerve endings in your body to create as much pain as possible--not unlike a muggle taser gun, but worse. Should you ever find youreslf in a situation where the curse is not lifted for a number of hours, your body will begin to detoriate. It's an extremely slow process, which only makes it worse, as it rips your flesh open down to the bone. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not lengthen that process."
Noticing Lily had tightened the pressure on his hand, he looked over at her disgusted face. "Hey," he whispered, "Don't worry. You know I'd never let anyone do something like that to you."
Her perfect green emeralds melted at these words, but both she and her boyfriend hit Sirius over the head when he mock-coughed, "Cornball."
"So it is a curse scar?" continued Alice, looking repulsed, "If it's alright to ask, I mean.. I don't want to.. well.. how exactly did you 'find yourself in that situation?'"
Adressing the class, Samara responded, "First off, don't worry about angering me or going too far with your questions. There are a few things that I won't discuss with you, but I highly doubt you'd think to bring them up. I gave you the opportunity to get to know me because I can't do as good a job preparing you if you know nothing about me. And as for your questions, Alice, yes, and I'm an auror. It goes without saying that I'm not the most popular person amongst Death Eaters."
"Yeah," interrupted a Ravenclaw, Ash, "but why were they using the Cruciatus on you? What did they want? And how long were you under it?"
"Information. And no," she added when Ash began to speak, "they didn't manage to get it out of me for nearly 23 hours straight, so don't bother asking what it was.
"Anyone have any different questions?"
People were getting more comfortable with the entity at the front of the room, the Marauders soon discovered--more personal questions were being confronted. For the next twenty minutes, she was asked everything from her favorite color to her favorite subject (a question Peter was rewarded for by four hands hitting him at once).
Eventually, Sirius asked mock suggestively, "Are you single?"
"There a reason you're asking, Mr. Black?" she replied teasingly.
"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies."
Smiling a little wider, she answered, "Yes, at the moment."
And with that note, the bell rang. He could've been imagining it, but Sirius thought the pitch was slightly more cheerful than it had been after his last class.
Ginny flopped down on her bed, closing her eyesand laughing out loud. Probably the anxiety, she supposed, as she was nowhere near cheerful. Her first week of lessons had been mentally exhausting. Seeing people who would be dead, people who would be worse than dead, people she would like nothing more than to strangle herself..
Terrified of a ripple affect, she was forced to keep her mouth shut and her brain open. Voicing the tiniest hint or implication of what was to come could possibly create a horrific paradox she had no way to reverse.
And speaking of reversing things, how the hell was she going to get herself out of this mess? Was this destiny, or just some cruel joke? Maybe she was lying in a pristine bed in Saint Mungo's dreaming up this elaborate universe. Maybe if she just opened her eyes, she'd be surrounded by Healers and their assistants and she'd never have to deal with teaching people she loved and people she hated more than life itself..
But no. The only things surrounding her when she opened her eyes was her meager attempt at creating a warm environment for her bedchambers. Yes, Ginny Weasley was extraordinary at many things, but making a place easy to relax in, or even just relaxing, was not one of those things.
Maybe she was just insane, and she wasn't in Saint Mungo's yet, but sure enough, she'd soon be carted away by witches and wizards in white attempting to restrain her. Wait--crazy people don't think they're crazy.. right?
Maybe she should just stop attempting to dance around the subject and confront it. She was really in the past. She was really at Hogwarts. She was really teaching people decades her prior. What were people back home doing without her? She and Harry were signs of hope; beacons of light in an otherwise shell of a world. At least they still had Harry.
Or was she even missed at all? Was time frozen, standing still, until she returned? Or were the two timelines running synonymously? So many questions. Too many questions. Uncertainties. She hated them. Still, what was the point of sending her here? What did the Death Eaters hope to accomplish? She was only making sure her students would be at less of a risk when facing them. Perhaps they didn't foresee her becoming a teacher. Merlin knows she didn't.
What if.. what if this was a way to taunt her? To dangle in front of her something that could never be. Oh yes, she could very well warn this world of the dangers to come, but would only ensure Voldemort a longer stay in power. What if they devised this plan to get rid of her, but at the same time sent her back hinging on the factor that she would be overwhelmed with the desire to prevent the same events from occuring? Or that even if she refrained from doing what she so desperately wanted to, it would be torture to her mind.
Well, one thing was for sure. It was torture.
That's when it hit her. A loophole. A way to defeat Voldemort and his cronies without them ever seeing it coming. A way to spare the people she loved; a way to end this pointless suffering.
A sign of hope, a beacon of light..
(( A/N: Sorry, not sure when you'll find out what plan she's thinking about, but it won't be for another couple chapters. Good? Bad? Hated it? Loved it? Constructive criticism? Review! ))