whitetigerwolf: I doubt I'll ever write the House meeting (it sums up as, "This is not how I expect my students to behave, and if you want to act like five year olds, I'll treat you as such"), but I'll see if I can fit Malfoy's scolding in next chapter.

InsanitySorrow 2.0: I always took issue with the idea that a quarter goblin would let one of his students be bullied. It's never said that Chang is a prefect, but then again, nothing says she isn't : ) And yes, I found her just as irritating. Jen's scared of werewolves, but whether she had interactions with other species is up in the air. Not even I know what all happened in Candyland, and I'm writing the damn story!

Jayjay37: Glad you approve! Hogwarts is essentially growing an artificial intelligence; if you've ever watched Star Trek: TNG (and if you haven't, shame on you), it's like the computer on the Enterprise. I wasn't planning on showing what would happen to Malfoy, but since I've now gotten two reviews essentially demanding it, I guess I'm forced to do so : )

ArmyWife22079: I've never heard of an HP cookbook before, unofficial or not; you really do learn something new every day. Moony is angry at Jen, actually. He maintained his friendship with the Potters after that Halloween night, believed that she was a squib, and had a hand in raising Danny. So, he loves them while she hates them, and neither one will move from their position to try to find some middle ground.

Almost 5,000 words. Longer than any previous chapter (not counting 12, since that was originally two chapters I decided to stick together), and yet it didn't cover anything I wanted it to; instead, it changed some things I had planned and left me in a bit of a fit. It's just… aagh! Honestly, I'm tempted at this point to completely scrap my notes and just go wherever the muse leads me.

Disclaimer: Did Madam Pomfrey (or anyone, really) ever suggest a magical treatment for Harry's vision problems? If not, I don't own the Harry Potter franchise; it belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Warner Bros., and whoever else she sold the rights to.

Chapter 14
Progress Report

The end of September brought the first staff meeting of the year, and for once Filius Flitwick was dreading it. He had elected not to explain the sudden drop in house points after that initial week, which spawned a slew of rumors ranging from the logical to the absurd. Like my students are foolish enough to get caught breeding an enormous eagle to eat annoying first years; the key phrase here being 'get caught'. Based on what I've learned recently, I can't put it past them to have tried it.

Years ago, Albus had handed almost all of his Headmaster duties to Minerva due to his multiple roles in the government. This was understandable to a degree, but she had been incapable of completing the tasks necessary to run the school in addition to her other responsibilities, namely teaching and keeping a firm hand on the Gryffindors. She had, in turn, deputized Filius to assist her, thereby putting him in the same position. They had both chosen to let their prefects handle the day-to-day operation of the houses while they concentrated their efforts elsewhere; in his case, that had been a terrible mistake.

The fact was, highly intelligent children may find trouble less often, but when they did, the situation inevitably became extraordinarily complicated. Without him keeping an eye out, the older students had organized a social hierarchy with themselves at the peak; younger students were obligated to run errands for them – what errands his seventh years wanted done he was afraid to ask, though the stores of firewhiskey and Playwizard magazines gave him a few clues – or face severe hexing, and tutors would charge money or sexual favors for their time, depending on their pupils' ages. This had apparently been going on for years, starting with the delinquents who filled the class of '85.

He sat down in his chair in the staff room and, with a swish of his wand, enlarged it so he could see over the top of the table. As he was the last teacher to enter, Albus waved his hand and closed the doors. Most of the others in the room still felt some awe every time the Headmaster used wandless magic, but he had been watching Miss Black perform magic in his class for the past month. Compared to the casual ease she displayed, Albus was a novice content with mere parlor tricks.

"We have survived the start of a new school year. Does anyone have any specific business to bring up?"

"I do," offered Pomona. "I was hoping Filius could tell us why the Ravenclaw prefects were removed from the patrol roster."

He sighed. "That would be because I had to strip their positions from them after it was brought to my attention that they were abusing their authority and bullying the younger students, in particular Miss Lovegood."

There were gasps throughout the room, and he continued, "That is also why we still have negative house points and why Mr. Filch has been so busy overseeing detentions recently. I do apologize for the inconvenience, Pomona. Related to that topic," he turned to Minerva, "I'm afraid you will need to enlist someone else's help with administrative duties. Now that I know my students aren't mature enough to supervise themselves, I am far too busy."

"Minerva, what does Filius mean?" Albus asked with a frown.

"I've been splitting the work you constantly pass over to me with him so I can at least try to balance my many hats," she said, directing a glare at him. "There's a reason the Headmaster isn't allowed to hold other positions in Hogwarts, and it's not so he can play politics in London or Avignon!"

Aurora cut in, steering the conversation back to its original course. "Who was it that brought the situation to light?"

"Miss Black," he replied with more than a hint of pride. Was September too early to start considering the next year's prefects?

"And that is a perfect segue to the purpose of this meeting. Let us discuss the new students, starting with Miss Black."

Septima was the first to respond to Albus's prompt. "She's certainly intelligent. Already she's tied with Miss Granger for top spot amongst my fourth years, and it isn't uncommon for her to stay behind after class to ask a few questions that are only tangentially related to the day's lesson. Most of them are about practical applications, as well."

"Miss Black spoke to me on that same subject the first week," wheezed Bathsheba, "but I believe I impressed on her the folly of experimenting with runes until she has someone with experience supervising."

I wouldn't bet on that, Filius thought. She is the type to exercise caution but still do it anyway.

Pomona frowned. "I can tell that she doesn't like Herbology, though I wish she wouldn't be quite so blatant about it. At least she does the work I assign without complaining where I can hear her, unlike some others I could name."

"I'm keeping an eye on her. Those Blacks will stab you in the back if they get the chance," Alastor growled before taking a swig from his flask.

"You view even the first years with suspicion," Filius retorted. "She has a talent for charms, though whether that's natural or a result of practice I cannot determine. And might I say, I'm surprised and pleased I haven't needed to jump on you for lambasting her because of her name like you do Mr. Potter, Severus."

"I treat Potter exactly how an arrogant popinjay with delusions of adequacy deserves," the dour man returned, dismissing the rebukes from the others. "As for Miss Black, she is competent, if inconsistent. For some potions she ignores the directions, but on others she needs them explained to her multiple times. Ironically, the former method yields the better result."

Aurora sighed. "There are so many students to deal with that I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure of speaking with her."

"Just be sure you keep the teasing and bawdy humor to a minimum; as her head of house, I can tell you that she will respond in kind, and there are still a few children too innocent to gaze down the roads you two will invariably travel."

The entire staff laughed at that image; the Astronomy teacher was a very attractive thirty-eight year old who found no diversion more entertaining than reducing cocky teenagers to a blushing mess. Initially her habit had been met with disapproval, but they warmed to her once they were sure she was not attempting to lure students into her bed.

Albus turned to Minerva. "You are being rather quiet. Is Miss Black having difficulties in Transfiguration?"

"While she's no prodigy like she is in Charms, her work is acceptable, though like Pomona I have observed her being rather bored in my class. What really bothers me is what Mr. Potter told me about an confrontation between them; the only reason she didn't serve detention was that I wasn't there to see it."

"Er, Minerva?" Filius offered. "You might want to take Mr. Potter's testimony with a grain of salt. I was there, and I'd say he shares responsibility."

He sighed as Mr. Potter bustled out of the room ahead of everyone else. Normally he stayed out of simple disagreements between students, but the boy's obvious antipathy towards Miss Black was beginning to distract the others. He turned to his desk to write a note for Minerva when voices in the hallway caused him to peer outside.

"What do you want, Potter?" Miss Black asked coldly.

Mr. Potter stood between the quarter-goblin and the girl, flanked by his two best friends. "An apology would be a good place to start."

She scoffed at that declaration. "I have done nothing to you worth feeling remorse for."

"Oh, yeah? Then what do you call assaulting my dad and insulting my mum?"

"Two fools getting what they deserve."

That answer was clearly not what Mr. Potter expected, as he gaped before reddening. "My parents aren't fools, Black! They're good people—"

"Which by no means keeps them from being fools. In fact, I've found that the two traits go hand in hand quite often; 'good people' don't know when to stay away from where they aren't wanted. Even getting burned can't teach them not to play with fire."

While Filius was certainly curious about the basis of that perspective, he also knew that he wouldn't get an answer if he asked. If anything, it was likely doing so would ruin the still fragile rapport he was building with his newest 'Claw. Instead, he stepped out of classroom to prevent the situation from escalating.

He should have intervened sooner.

"Now, if that is all, Potter, I have better things to do with my time than waste it in your presence." She turned and began walking off, but Mr. Potter reached out and grabbed her arm. Faster than the boy could react, she spun back around and punched him; surprised and in pain, he let go to staunch the blood flowing from his nose. His friends reached for their wands, but not before hers appeared in her hands. Thankfully, she simply petrified them before turning her attention back to her brother.

"Lay your hand on me again, and I'll break it off," she whispered, but the sound was ominously magnified to echo around them in the empty corridor. Seemingly satisfied that her threat would be heeded, she left, the other children and Filius himself staring after her in shock.

He returned his eyes to the other staff. "Mr. Potter instigated the situation, and Miss Black resolved it. All things considered, I felt it best that the matter stay closed."

"But—"

"But nothing, Minerva. To the best of my knowledge – and I assure you, I have paid close attention – Miss Black has not begun a fight since her arrival. The same could not be said for Mr. Potter, or have you forgotten that he challenged Mr. Malfoy to a duel their first week here?"

"Yes, we understand, Filius," Albus said in a placating tone. "Unless there is anything else concerning Miss Black, have any of you observed issues among the first years…"

"Miss Black, stay behind."

Jen frowned slightly at the Potions Master's demand, but waved Susan and Justin away. Macmillan had decided after two weeks of sharing a table with her that he couldn't deal with the way she ignored his advances, so he returned to his partnership with the shy Kevin Entwhistle. This had actually been a boon, for about half the potions Snape wanted them to brew she had never heard of before, and her need to ask Susan to read the directions aloud would have eventually required giving away information she would much rather keep to herself.

Once the door was closed, Snape stalked over and stared down at her. "I believe it is time you offered an explanation."

"Explanation?"

"Yes. You are incredibly inconsistent with your work; no one with the ability to brew Videki's reduction or the Essence of Peace should need elaboration on instructions so simple even the most brainless dunderhead can follow them. Unless, that is, you were cheating all along like I first suspected. I see glimmers of skill in you, so you have this one chance to explain yourself before I haul you in front of Dumbledore and demand you be expelled for academic misconduct. I suggest you take it."

Bloody fuck on Legba's crutch, how do I get into these situations? If I don't tell him, I'll be expelled, but if I do, I'll have given a valuable secret to someone who has the means and, considering the grudge between him and Sirius, possibly motive to ruin me. Unless…

"Let's say I tell you. What assurance do I have that you won't spread it around?"

Snape sneered at her. "None whatsoever. I will not sit around and negotiate with you when it makes no difference to me whether or not you are still in this castle tomorrow."

"Don't lie, Professor. You wouldn't have given me my 'one chance' if you weren't curious about the reason." Needing a bargaining chip, she slipped into his mind – lazy of him not to keep his Occlumency shields up at all times, but I'm not complaining – and rooted around. She quickly found out more than she could have possibly hoped for. "Besides, I think you are quite interested in making a deal with me."

"And why is that?"

She smiled sweetly. "Because you don't want it getting around to Sirius that you are the real reason he's impotent. At the moment he assumes it's a result of the Dementors, but if he found out that it was due to some Draught of Eternal Chastity finding it's way into his firewhiskey in '81…" Her grin widened and gained an evil edge at the man's shellshocked expression. "Messing with an Ancient House? Poor form, sir, very poor form."

He staggered back, displaying tremendous fear for someone reputed to be a stoic. She knew it had been an ill-conceived bout of revenge, one that he wouldn't even consider attempting now that he was older, but that didn't change the fact that just brewing the potion in question carried a sentence of five years in Azkaban. That he used it on the now Head of the Black family could see him spend the rest of his life there. "So, are you sure won't negotiate with me?"

"What do you want, Black?"

"Nothing too onerous. We both have secrets we want to keep quiet, but since we can't, I'd say a mutual vow of silence should suffice."

He reluctantly drew his wand and pointed it at the ceiling, only to pause at her laughter. "What could you possibly find so amusing about this?"

"You think I'll settle for a mere magical oath? That won't guarantee you keep this to yourself, only that you'll pay for breaking it afterwards. No, we'll use something a little more effective." She flicked the pad of her index finger with her thumbnail, magically splitting the skin, and drew a circle on the table with her blood. After riffling through her memories, she added the appropriate runes from the books she had studied earlier in the summer. This is the first time I've used these. Please don't let me screw up; that would be… messy.

"Blood magic is dark, Black. I will not be party to this."

"Coming from a man who invents dark spells, I don't really think you have much of a fucking choice. Or would you also like me to inform the DMLE who was responsible for arming the Death Eaters with Sectumsempra?" At his rapid denial, she pointed to the sigil. "Trace the circle with your blood. We don't have all day, unless you want your next class to see this."

He did so, and she grasped his wrist while he did the same to her. "I, Jennifer Black, do hereby swear on the blood I have spilled to keep secret what I have and will learn about Severus Snape that he does not wish known, provided he does the same for me."

Snape looked at her in shock, doubtless because of the implications of her broad wording. Not only did she imply she knew more of his dirty laundry, she also pledged to keep it safe. Considering that included his actions as a Death Eater, she had just made herself an accomplice. "I, Severus Snape, do hereby swear on the blood I have spilled to keep secret what I have and will learn about Jennifer Black that she does not wish known, provided she does the same for me."

"So mote it be."

With a ear-piercing screech, the circle rose from the table and writhed like epileptic snakes. The runes split and rejoined, becoming a ribbon of blood that wrapped around their clasped limbs and sank into the skin. Jen shook her hand out while Snape just stared at his own in shock.

There was a good reason blood magic was considered to be nearly Black. Long before Muggles discovered DNA, the wizards knew that their blood contained the very essence of who they were. Because of that, it was always connected to the person it belonged to, regardless of the distance separating them, and spells cast on blood could relay the effect to the donor. Crafting a pact to keep secrets was barely scratching the surface of this form of magic; an unscrupulous witch with just a few drops of the precious fluid could do anything from granting a man luck beyond his wildest imagination to turning him into a mindless slave. There were rumors that it could even be used to reincorporate the dead or keep the living from crossing the Veil. As the Succubi said, 'All life comes first from blood'.

The nature of blood was also one of the many reasons why those involved in the Pureblood movement were so vehement against Muggleborns joining the Magical World. They believed that not only did their blood tell who they were and what they were capable of as individuals, it also recorded their families' entire histories. It was more than a matter of pride; it was a matter of faith, nearly ancestor worship. So, when someone new to their world came along and said that blood didn't matter in the slightest, they took it as a slap to their most basic values and an attack on their religion. Even some families who hadn't supported Voldemort hated Muggleborns for this reason. The gulf between the two groups couldn't be wider if it had been made intentionally.

"Why did you do that?" Snape asked as he lifted his eyes from his hand.

Because you're observant and way too smart. While we both know those things happened, no court would accept my word on events from before my birth, and I'm not a registered mind-reader or Legilimancer or whatever it's called. This vow is meant to protect anything else you manage to discern, and I needed it before you regained your balance and called my bluff. "Like I said, we both have our secrets. If I don't trust you with mine, and you don't trust me with yours, then it makes sense we take out a little insurance." It also had the advantage of making them conspirators, in a sense, rather than enemies. She had made enough of those in the past month.

He swallowed nervously; apparently this was outside of his comfort zone. "That I participated in this at all is to stay between us."

"Obviously. I don't want to go to Azkaban any more than you do."

They were silent for a minute or two, letting what they had done sink in, before Snape sat at the table with her. "What could be so important about your brewing that you desire this level of security?"

"The fact that I can brew at all. Susan occasionally reads the instructions for the day's potion to me because I can't see."

"All this cloak and dagger nonsense is to hide the fact that you need glasses?" he snarled, sneer back on his face. "You miserable, arrogant, foolish—"

She held up her hand. "No, I don't need glasses, Snape." She reached behind her head and pulled loose the knot of her blindfold. His eyes followed it as she laid it on the table, then they rose to met hers and he flinched backwards. She couldn't blame him; she had looked at her own eyes when scrying once and had been shocked at the milky glaze covering not just the iris, but the entire surface of the globe. Not only had the bleach destroyed her sight, it burned the surrounding skin so badly that fibrous scar tissue now held her eyes facing in different directions. "I'm totally blind."

"Yet no one realized that was the case; I never would have guessed. How have you hidden it for so long?"

"We don't know each other well enough for me to tell you that, Professor."

He nodded, then hesitantly leaned forwards and held her head while he took a closer look. "This isn't congenital, is it? Chemical burns, if I don't miss my guess." She nodded back, and he handed her the blindfold. "Put that on and come with me. We're going to have a short chat with Madam Pomfrey."

He strode over to the door and swung it open once she was again presentable. "Get in and start. If you can't keep your childish hyperactivity in line, I'll have you all scraping what's left of your compatriots off the floor in detention."

Most of the third years trembled at his words, but Luna smiled and gave her a thumbs-up as they passed in the hall just outside. Someday, I'll figure out how the hell she can know what's really going on all the time.

"Miss Black, if I may have a word?" Flitwick asked the next morning.

With a sigh, Jen finished packing her satchel and waited for the rest of the class to depart. "What do you wish to talk about, Professor?"

"Just a few things that have come to my attention. For instance, I hear you had an interesting discussion with Madam Pomfrey yesterday? She spoke to me about it at breakfast," he added at the sight of her clenched jaw.

"I forgot the staff tells each other everything," she ground out. "Yes, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape think that they can produce a dilution of the Scar-Diminishing Potion that will be safe to use on my eyes. The hope is that, since the internal structures are healthy, if atrophied, doing so will eventually restore my sight. It will be a longer process than using the regular formula, but it also shouldn't melt my eyeballs."

He chuckled and pulled out a vial capped with an eyedropper that he put on the desk. "As it happens, Professor Snape spent the entire night brewing this. I don't know how, but I'd say you've impressed him."

"Or I simply presented him with a challenge." Nevertheless, she slid the potion into her bag. "How much is in there?"

"Enough for the month, provided you don't waste any. She also wanted me to tell you that she will not use a courier service for the next dose, no matter how much you want to avoid her lair."

She grimaced. When had she escorted Luna to the hospital wing, the smell of disinfectant had overpowered her. She thought the memories of the Dursleys were behind her, but nightmares of that time plagued her the next night. Yesterday had not been so bad, though she had still been in a foul mood afterwards. "If she insists."

"Now, onto the next topic. Some of the other teachers have made informal complaints about your attitude in their classes. You're not in any trouble, but would you like to tell me why you are so disinterested in Herbology and Transfiguration?"

"Herbology is an easy one; I have no plans to spend my time after Hogwarts tending to a garden. If I need potions ingredients, I will buy them, not wrestle with a stubborn plant for an hour to get a few grams of seeds." She relaxed slightly at Flitwick's quick grin; at least he understood where she was coming from. "Transfiguration… it's complicated."

"I would think that would make you pay more attention, not less."

"Oh, no, the material isn't difficult. I meant my reasoning." She pondered for a few moments, then asked, "How much do you know about wandless magic?"

"There isn't much on the subject; so few people have a talent for it, after all. Actually, I think I've learned more from watching you in class this month than I have from all the books I've read. Not even the Headmaster can match the ease you show, and he is considered one of the world's experts on it."

"He and I approach wandless magic very differently. His background is in using a wand, and he therefore structures his spells with motions and incantations before he casts them just like he would do were he still wielding a focus. I, on the other hand, have never used a wand; can't, in fact. I take an unstructured approach, telling my magic what I want done and how would be easiest to do so, and then letting my subconscious deal with all the little details."

She paused, barely controlling a snicker at his undisguised fascination. "While there are several other incongruities between the 'ordered' and 'freeform' methods, what is important here is how they differ in respect to Transfiguration. Tell me, sir, how many spells does Professor McGonagall teach in total during the seven years someone can take her class?"

"I don't have exact numbers, but I would imagine several hundred to a thousand."

"I use one." This time she did laugh at his expression. "If I know what I'm using as a base, and what it's supposed to be, I can make the change. Admittedly, I need a highly detailed description of something if I haven't been around it before, and there are only a few types of animals I have spent enough time learning about to keep them from exploding… Quite frankly, it's often easier to just conjure what I want rather than transfigure it.

"Anyway, that's why I don't pay attention in her class. The theory she lectures on doesn't mesh with how I use magic, and she can't teach me details I need to ensure I'm successful. So, I tune her out and finish other work until she calls on me to demonstrate the day's objective."

"That does sound like quite a problem. Are there other subjects you find yourself having issues in?"

"Well, I can't see through the telescope, so Astronomy's a bust, and I'm using History as a study period. Frankly, though, the biggest disappointment is how much time we waste instead of actually doing magic."

"Excuse me?"

She sighed, that probably wasn't the best way to phrase it. "Before I came here, I used large quantities of magic, day in and day out." Setting up tables, cleaning the stage, replacing empty bottles of liquor from the cellar, scrubbing the floors. There were many things that could be said about Candyland, but it didn't let her be lazy. "Now, I cast a spell or two in three classes, sit around on my bum for the other five, can't use magic in the hallways… it's making me restless, which I'm sure isn't helping my concentration."

"Core flooding." He smiled faintly at her confusion. "It's a condition I had to deal with, too, when I switched from dueling to teaching. If you are accustomed to casting a great deal of magic and then change to a more sedentary lifestyle, your core will continue to fill at its regular rate even though you aren't draining the same amount as before. Your core will then 'overflow', in a manner of speaking, causing you to become jittery, insomniac, paranoid, short-tempered, and overall not very good company."

"Exactly." It really wasn't, since she had no core, but the symptoms he described matched what she was experiencing. At least, most of them did; anger had been part of her life since shortly before she was abandoned in London. "Do you have any advice for handling this?"

"There are a couple of methods I know of. You could gradually decrease the amount of magic you cast on a daily basis until you aren't using more than what you need for class." He smiled at the disgust she displayed. "No, it isn't enjoyable; I tried it and immediately chose the other method, which is to take some time each day to repeatedly cast spells until your reserves are nearly empty. Personally, I use the time to keep my dueling skills polished.

"However, this year you have a third option. Tell me, Miss Black, have you considered participating in the Tri-Wizard Tournament?"

Considering how the Potters and Malfoys would likely be political and philosophical rivals, it's not hard to imagine Danny and Malfoy going for each other's throats right out of the gate. Neither McGonagall nor Snape were pleased when they found out about the duel.

This marks the end of the "Snape as an antagonist" portion of the story. He'll never be a nice guy, but he won't be a heartless monster.

The more in-depth explanation of Jen's magical method arose from a conversation I had with Mystolon after posting the last chapter. I know I can be rather abstract when describing concepts, so maybe this helped somebody.

Silently Watches out.