Chapter 13 - Aut Imiteris Aut Oderis
Author's Note:
Just a very quick thank you to the (unfortunately anonymous) exceedingly tremendous person who posted a review with excellent material, some of which they will recognise in this chapter. It made me think quite a bit; thank you!
Guys, as always, thanks for your support - it really is invaluable.
There were only so many places in which one could hide at Hogwarts, Nico found out, much to his exasperation and disappointment.
The castle was huge. Bloomin' massive, actually. It had at least seven floors depending on the day of the week, dozens of classrooms, a library the size of Camp Jupiter's senate room, towers, broom cupboards, private bathrooms, ramparts and dungeons. And yet, there were very few places one could sneak into and lie low in for more than an hour before someone strolled, tripped or flew by.
Maybe it was because it was a school, Nico thought crossly as he side-stepped another girl who was hurrying down the hall. Students all over the place, and probably all at some point looking for a bit of privacy themselves. No wonder teachers went round the bend. He only had a few memories of the school he and Bianca had been fetched from by Percy and Annabeth, but they were far from pleasant and did not star any sane teachers.
Still, there was at least one place where he could be alone. It was probably the only spot which students generally avoided, partly because of the ambience, but mostly because it was so near to the Slytherins' and their master's lair. Even Slytherins themselves chose to power-walk down the narrow, dark corridors and hurriedly clamber into their common room rather than spend too much time in the place that looked and felt like the bowels of the castle.
Naturally, being dark and quiet the place was immediately attractive to Nico. Not because he actually enjoyed the gloomy humidity, but because the rest of the building was invariably permeated with loud Gryffindors, sneering Slytherins, Weasley fireworks, scolding teachers and giggling girls. The noise nearly drove Nico crazy every day; it was so damaging to his patience and mental well-being that he often skipped the last period of the day just so he could escape the chaos a little sooner. Annabeth's brow sometimes creased when she noticed, but she eternally endeared herself to Nico by never confronting him about it. Instead, she took up the habit of sitting down next to him in their common room, and together with Hazel helped him cover what he missed during his skiving sessions. Not that it showed in his current grades, but it was the gesture that he appreciated.
Lessons themselves were okay, he supposed. They were a damn good sight more interesting than maths and English and geography anyway, even if doing homework for them was ridiculously difficult since they knew very little about the subjects.
History of Magic was by far the most awkward. Word had it Professor Binns never knew he had died and become a ghost. Now that was a case of extreme denial the likes of which Nico never imagined, or else the professor had simply never wanted to discuss it, Either way, these days there was no way he didn't know he was dead, judging by the way he shrank and became almost transparent whenever Nico entered the classroom. The latter had had to have a couple of stern words with the teacher because if he continued like that, even little first-years would start connecting the dots and summarise that there was something odd linking the boy and the ghost. The content of the subject itself was dreary, though. Goblin wars were only interesting for the first few lessons, and even then only if the lecturer's voice was more lively than a bunch of dry leaves being blown about on a pavement.
Other subjects were more of a blur. Potions was unpleasant, Charms was surprisingly fun (though essays were torture), Transfiguration was scary - and not just because students temporarily but regularly disfigured themselves with accidental magic (McGonagall could be just as intimidating as Snape when she wanted), Care of Magical Creatures was... weird, to say the least. Some of the animals they dealt with in class, like Bowtruckles, were very dull to say the least, but the ones in their textbooks looked fascinating: unicorns; hippogriffs; chimaera; manticores; werewolves... The only potential problem was that some of those creatures were recognisably from Ancient Greek mythology: would that warrant a different kind of behaviour when they encountered the demigods?(The last thing they needed was Percy chatting with a unicorn.)
So far there had been four separate entities (five if you counted the suspicious portrait on the fifth-floor corridor) who had known them for demigods on sight. Hopefully, that ability did not extend to non-sentient creatures.
Herbology was another zone of grey matter. Everyone in the demigod group knew without a doubt that the Demeter kids would have the time of their lives in those greenhouses, but for them the experience often closely resembled imminent death rather than gardening lessons. However the sentient plants, luckily, took out their wrath on everyone - not just those who may or may not be on lukewarm terms with Demeter and Persephone, as the two children of Hades had at first feared. Hazel and Nico had discussed this at length, and decided that it had to be the influence of magic in this world: this was Hecate's realm, and two goddesses' petty complaints against them had little consequence here. (Although there was always a niggling voice at the back of Nico's mind reminding him that this protection only lasted within Hecate's land.)
Still, at the end of the day it was no wonder that exhaustion weighed down his limbs and clouded his mind, until even Hazel couldn't talk to him without getting a sharp retort for an answer.
The truth was, and always had been, that Nico sometimes could not get away faster. School was so constant and repetitive and difficult and so full of people. Lessons at least were spent staring at the Professors and their dusty blackboards, but between periods and at lunch breaks the corridors heaved with students. Sometimes the traffic was so bad that it took over two minutes for a corner to clear, and those minutes were amongst the most trying of Nico's week. The press of four or five different bodies digging into his own, the smell of girls' shampoo, the overpowering stench of male deodorant, the tickle of pigtails, the grumblings and shouting of the compressed students... It all made Nico so pressured and claustrophobic that he very quickly associated navigating between classes and corridors with the feeling of nausea.
He tried to hide it from the others, but he knew they knew. Of course they knew. They were trained warriors with natural ADHD and hardened observation skills. There was no way they missed his stark grey face, clenched fists, sweaty forehead and heaving breaths every time they emerged from a sea of twittering adolescents.
Nico didn't know what he would be doing here without his friends. A year ago, that sentence would have sounded completely alien in his head, but that did not make it any the less true in the present. Despite the frequent bouts of gloominess and sulky silence that plagued his behaviour, the others made it so much easier by simply being there. Odd really, considering his well-established problem with people in general. The fact that Hazel and Frank were often in the same classes as him made lessons infinitely more bearable, and having someone not too loud like Annabeth to sit next to at lunch was nice as well.
In fact, Nico's growing fondness for an equally increasing number of people extended far beyond Hogwarts. He missed Reyna and her big-sister care of him. He missed Chiron, who had always been kind to him. He missed Will, too. Especially Will. The son of Apollo could be an annoying derp sometimes, but he was one of the very few who didn't make Nico feel inadequate and undesirable. It hadn't always been that way, but recently they'd been getting on really well, and...
Nico scowled. Great, now he sounded like a wistful protagonist of one of those soppy storybooks Bianca had once gone through the phase of devouring.
Finally, he reached the spot he had found a couple of weeks ago that was almost always deserted. It wasn't hard to see why it was so shunned: the niche in the dungeon wall was about two feet deep and four wide, with nary a cushion or an armrest or even a nearby torch, but it was peaceful. Nico had to assume someone had severely misunderstood the architectural plans all those centuries ago, because he couldn't imagine any couple snuggling up here for a romantic half-hour, nor for that matter a passing a Ravenclaw to settle down and finish Flourish and Blott's latest edition of Three Hundred and Fifty Two Types of Eggshell Patterns and Their Uses in Divination.
Sighing with relief, Nico crashed onto the small stone ledge, tilting his head back against the hall and closing his eyes. Finally, peace and quiet. With his eyes shut, the dim light and the humid, slightly musty smell, he could almost be in a bird-less forest.
Nico felt the tension in his shoulders lift a little. No doubt books and films made it seem like maintaining a secret identity was fun and mysterious, like a game between the hero and the dumb bad guys who couldn't even see their enemy was right under their noses. But they never really captured the anxiety of it, the sheer weight of keeping your whole past from your entire surroundings, the constant worry of saying too much or not enough, of breaking or making suspicious eye-contact, smiling at things you shouldn't, taking swipes too seriously or not respecting the established authority. And even if you hadn't made a mistake for a few days, the constant possibility of what if forever hovered at your shoulder like a malicious shadow.
The Slytherins mostly left him alone, though. That was the faint plus-side of things. Chiron had given them the task of befriending their classmates and, if possible, make allies of them, but Nico privately thought that he and Piper were lucky as it was that they weren't actively being picked on, let alone making buddies of Malfoy, Nott or Rosier. Curiously enough, Piper and Nico were never subjected to the kind of verbal abuse the Slytherins usually inflicted on members of other Houses, though Nico understood it to be more of an ideological phenomenon than one which suggested actual tolerance or liking. The Slytherins were bitterly aware that they were the unpopular ones in the school, so while none of them was going to mother ickle firsties or go out of their way to lend someone a hand, they looked out for their housemates and stuck together. That was the way it was and new Slytherins quickly learned to live with it, Nico knew - if a little sadly.
He frowned.
The thing was, while being ignored by Slytherin House was absolutely fine by him and probably just as much for Piper, Chiron's instructions kept repeating themselves in his mind, nudging him to reject the silent barrier over and over until he could no longer bear to stand by in the shadows while his housemates did anything, even such ordinary tasks as completing their homework, playing chess, chatting over a meal or simply walking down the corridors. Nico's aversion to any social contact kept pulling at his mind to sit still and wait for the people he knew and liked to approach him, but the sense of duty he'd somehow managed to acquire even during all those years alone told him to sit down with the Slytherins and strike up an acquaintanceship with them.
Nico almost groaned in the dank, gloomy darkness of the dungeon as he pressed his face with the heels of his hands. How the hell had he landed the job of a socialite? This wasn't his area. That kind of thing was for people like Percy and Piper, who could talk to someone openly without coming across as a teenage serial killer.
Nico knew he spooked a lot of the few people he engaged with. It was part of why he kept his distance so much. His friends had tried very often to make him understand that it simply wasn't the case, people just didn't know him well enough, and that maybe it just took a little getting used to, that was all. But he knew they were only saying that because they themselves had gotten to know him a bit more, and even then only because they'd had to pull together to save the world, which was the case for precisely no-one else.
Sometimes the ghosts came and kept him company a little. He never asked for it, and they never offered it, but it always just sort of happened, with neither party ever questioning it nor resenting the other. Nico didn't mind their occasional presence. Ghosts were much quieter than live people, and a lot of them appeared to understand why he often sought isolation. Apparently a fair few of them did their own brand of brooding, only theirs usually involved moaning and long-suffering sighs and floating through walls.
The Fat Friar was the nicest one of all the ghosts. If you happened to touch him he was cold as ice, and your hand felt numb for ages afterwards, but there was a certain illusory warmth about him. Even his ruddy cheeks in all their translucence seemed to radiate a healthy glow. His calm and cheerful manner never put Nico on edge. If anything, he reminded Nico a little of Chiron, though he doubted the stately old centaur would appreciate the comparison if he ever found out.
Moaning Myrtle was also a regular visitor. She was still fascinated with the son of Hades, and the pull she apparently felt proved enough to entice her out of her customary bathroom and seek him out in the dungeons. Ghosts never had any trouble finding the son of Hades. They were like birds, knowing which way was North and South, only it was the boy who was a constant point on their compass.
Nico at first had thought that the ghosts seeking him out was just their way of reporting information back to him - which had confused him a little, since he could communicate with them almost telepathically - but as it turned out, they just wanted his company - another sensation that was still very strange to Nico.
Whenever she did find him sitting on his own in the dungeons, Myrtle usually camped out beside him and kept him up to date with the gossip. She was surprisingly well-informed; her habit of moving around the castle along the pipes apparently making her privy to all sorts of exchanges, most of which she recounted to Nico in detail and with absolute relish while he listened in alternate bouts of exasperation, amusement and discomfort. At least she didn't moan anymore when she talked to him. He knew she still did a great deal of it, but their initial meeting had apparently not had the traumatic impact Percy and Annabeth had feared. If Myrtle was frightened of Nico, her conduct said the exact opposite.
The only ghost he didn't like spending too much time with was the Bloody Baron. His behaviour was filled with recurrent periods of self-loathing and pity, but Nico had the uneasy sense that there was lot more to him and his past than melancholy. He could feel ghosts' past auras, and sometimes, if it had been particularly violent or memorable, he could catch a glimpse of their manner of death. The Baron's death had been fraught with hate, jealous love and murderous rage. So much for regret.
Maybe the dark loneliness of the dungeon wasn't so good for him after all. It had at first seemed like an ideal shelter, but Nico could feel sombre thoughts returning, like they always did when he isolated himself from the world. To Nico, his mind felt trapped in a maddening cycle of seeking solitude, over-thinking his interactions with people, concluding that they probably didn't want him nearby anyway, and being pulled out into the light again by his friends. Then for a few glorious hours he would feel at peace with the world, and sometimes even join in the banter with his friends, but soon the little pricks of discomfort - small and subtle at first, then getting stronger with each passing moment - prodded him over and over to run away from people again, until he could bear the sound of laughing and idle chatter no longer and fled to the dark, quiet recesses of the castle and his mind.
It was frustrating, it was exhausting... and it was all Nico knew.
Just as Nico was about to summon all his courage to leave his dark, womb-like corner, he heard footsteps coming down the only corridor that led here.
Nico froze. He wasn't technically forbidden from being here, but being caught all alone in a deserted dungeon was going to look more than suspicious. He could go further down the passage until he reached the storing cupboard at the end of it. Maybe he could magic the lock open and hide in there.
Then it occurred to him that the person walking towards him was probably coming here with the precise purpose of entering that very cupboard anyway.
The footsteps were getting closer. Nico crept back into his niche and pressed himself to the darkest wall. It was his best chance of staying unnoticed, as long as he kept very quiet and still...
Of course, no such luck. The person was holding their lighted wand aloft, and the stark white glow left Nico no chance at concealment.
"Di Angelo, what in Merlin's name are you doing here?"
It was Snape. Nico recognised the voice before he saw his face, blinded as he was by the professor's wandlight.
"Professor, I... I wasn't doing anything."
Snape raised an eyebrow.
"No? Then perhaps you were seeking the comforts of cold damp stone after a long day of lessons? Which, I believe," he checked a watch from his pocket, "have not yet ended."
Nico pressed his lips together. How was he going to get out of this? Of all the teachers he could land on, he got the notoriously harsh Potions Master, and he hadn't even done anything wrong.
"I got Professor McGonagall's permission to leave. I had a bad headache." he fibbed.
"And you chose to recuperate in this..." Snape looked around in feigned curiosity, "health ward?"
"I find the dark and quiet to be more effective than any medicine," Nico said quietly, glancing meaningfully at the light that was still shining directly in his eyes. "Sir," he added. He always forgot.
Snape said nothing for a moment, instead he scrutinised Nico's face - maybe for any signs of lying or deliberate rudeness. His eyes were always black and cold, but in the harsh white glow of his wand they were completely devoid of emotion, save suspicion. The son of Hades thought there was an unusual intensity to them for a moment, like the man was trying to see more than what was in front of him.
After a few seconds, he finally lowered his wand. Nico rubbed his eyes, trying to erase the coloured dots from his vision. He hated it when that happened, like an alien intervention on his senses, trying to adorn his bleak view of the world with bright spots of colour when there were none.
"No matter, di Angelo." Snape said, his voice unpleasantly calm. "I am sure Professor McGonagall will make sure you learn what you missed, and no doubt we all have our own ways of dealing with discomfort. Nevertheless," his eyes glittered, "you are not where you are supposed to be, and obviously that cannot go unpunished. I have been said to favour my students, but they all know that is far from the truth, as will you from now on. Come with me."
He turned and walked away, in the direction he had been going before he had seen Nico, toward the storing cupboard.
Nico's heart sank even further. All he'd wanted was a bit of peace and quiet. What horrible punishment was Snape going to concoct now? There were rumours among the students that he'd once made a couple of third-years clean and de-moss the exterior of the entire North Tower over the course of a fortnight. Whether that was true or not, Nico didn't know, though it was probably his mind playing tricks on him whenever he passed by the tower and it looked slightly less mossy than the others.
In any case, he thought, as he followed the Potions Master down the corridor, I've got cards up my sleeve he wouldn't even dream of. Bring it on, Batman.
Oh, wonderful. Now he was starting to sound like Percy.
With increasing dread, despite the rational knowledge that this was a school and not a torture chamber, Nico followed Snape into the storing cupboard - which was more of a mini-office, really. There were shelves covering the entirety of the four walls, supporting hundreds of different little vials and bundles of dried plant, with little platforms jutting out at hip-height, and a large board at the far end of the room covered with small empty bottles and glass containers, pieces of parchment and a pot of old quills. The room smelled a little musty, no doubt because sunlight had never penetrated its sanctuary, and there was another odour Nico couldn't place but which reminded him of disinfectant alcohol.
With a wave of his hand, Snape lit several candles around the little room and a central lamp that hung from the ceiling. The light immediately became a lot warmer, but in no way did it make Nico feel any better about the situation. Snape's face was now its usual sallow yellowish colour and still shrouded in too many shadows to see clearly. The many bundles of herbs and string and threaded seeds that hung from the rafters shifted very slightly from the heat the candles and the lamp gave off, casting shuddering specks of shadow all around.
"So," Snape said, his lips curling at the side. "Thought you could claim a headache and skive the last lesson, did you?"
Nico glared at him.
Snape smirked.
"Oh dear, quite the sullen little teenager, aren't we?"
You're one to talk, Nico thought. Gliding around the castle like a huge antisocial bat. At least I know what I am.
But he didn't say it out loud, and Snape watched him, looking faintly amused.
For once, he didn't seem to mind that a student was deliberately ignoring his questions. Nico had seen him deduct points from a Gryffindor for taking more than two seconds to answer him. He was on thin ice here, he knew.
After a few more seconds, Snape's expression dropped any amusement and leaned his torso a little more toward Nico, his eyes narrowing and somehow becoming even more piercing. The boy in front of him felt his gaze like a poke at his temple, then - completely by surprise - a slight brush to the edge of his mind. With an internal jolt, he realised he'd felt the same thing before: in Dumbledore's office the afternoon they had arrived at Hogwarts. Snape was trying to read his mind!
Immediately, Nico made his face as blank and closed-off as possible. He averted Snape's eyes - that seemed to be the way these things worked; Dumbledore had done the same - and focused instead on the bridge of his nose. Slightly at a loss of what else to do, Nico tried to think of something - anything - that was not demigods or Camp or prophecies. He felt rage flare up. How dare Snape try to penetrate his mind!?
At Nico's absolute refusal to show any emotion - particularly fear - Snape leant back, looking disappointed and a little confused.
"Still no? Very well, we'll have to force some manners into you."
Nico had had enough. He felt his temper snap at this man's nerve.
"Before teaching me about manners," he said angrily, "hasn't your mother ever told you it's rude to invade someone's privacy? Especially," he growled, knowing and not caring that some of the darkness in him was leaking from his voice, "without their intended knowledge."
Snape looked taken aback, and even a little impressed.
"Ah, he speaks once more." he drawled, not sounding at all embarrassed at having been called out. "And a trained Occlumens, no less - or at least partially. Tell me boy, who taught you?"
"Taught me what?" Nico snapped. He could feel the rage inside him flaring on, and the reigns on which he usually tied his temper were in danger of letting go completely. He had no desire to end up in detention, but right now silly things like school and teachers and respect seemed about as important as moon dust.
Snape cast his eyes up to the ceiling, sighing.
"Merlin's beard, why do I surround myself with simpletons?" he wondered aloud, then looked back at Nico, his tone scathing when he next spoke. "Let's not play innocents here, di Angelo. We both know that neither of us are clean in this matter. Now tell me: who taught you?"
"You mean who taught me to protect the safety of my own mind?" Nico answered hotly. "Myself, thanks very much. Anyone in the world would be able to tell you same thing, if you asked them."
Snape crossed his arms, apparently no longer even finding Nico's rudeness to be offensive. He looked intrigued.
"Fascinating; a natural, then?" he murmured. Then, "You're sure no-one has tutored you in blocking your mind from outside intervention, or in controlling your thoughts?"
Nico's mouth twisted into a humourless smile.
"Believe me, thoughts aren't my problem." he said, darkly.
Now emotions, on the other hand...
Snape hmmed, his expression now openly curious. He traced his thin lips with the pad of his thumb, considering his student with all the rapt attention of a scientist discovering a new metal.
His next question was completely out of the blue.
"Remind me the name of your old school?"
Nico frowned in confusion. "Mythomagic Institute." he replied.
"I can't say I've ever heard of it."
Nico shrugged.
Snape sighed.
"Merlin, what a clam you are. Though I must say it makes a change; most students your age barely have enough mental control to conceal their pitiful motives for skipping lessons, let alone their own internal monologues."
Nico said nothing. Snape had apparently expected this. He sat down on the desk-like board behind him and crossed his arms again.
"However I'm afraid, di Angelo, that I have trouble believing you. Usually of course, that would not be a problem since a single well-placed look would tell me all I need to know, but that option is clearly out. Now, you tell me that this," he gestured at Nico's hunched and defensive form, "frankly extraordinary ability is entirely natural, yet I know it cannot be, for a natural Occlumens' defences are like a fortress to any Legilimens. Yours are more of a cloaked nature. Concealing, yes, but easily ripped through with a little force. Which leads me to believe that you have received education in this field, in school at the very least, though more likely from a highly experienced tutor."
Struggling with the unfamiliar vocabulary and for the first time at a loss for words, Nico was genuinely confused.
"I...don't know what to say, Professor." he said, frowning. "I've only told you the truth."
Snape did not answer immediately, though his black eyes continued to bore into Nico's own. The experience was just as chilling as before, but at least they no longer felt like they were physically trying to pry open his mind.
"Well," the Potions teacher finally conceded slowly, "I believe we have reached what they call an impasse. I will see you in class tomorrow, di Angelo. And mind you bring less of the cheek. I think you know I have very little tolerance for impudence and smart-aleck retorts."
Stunned at being dismissed so suddenly, Nico turned and walked out of the cupboard. He couldn't believe he was walking away without the punishment Snape had called him in for in the first place. Then again, Nico now knew something about Snape that could be held over him: he was ready to bet that extracting unwilling information from minors in an educational environment was highly illegal, and leakage or reporting of any such activity would meet consequences.
Suddenly feeling slightly more optimistic about life, Nico made his way back to his common room. He hoped his friends were back.
0o0o0o0o0o0
Harry paced around the Room of Requirement, rubbing the palm of one hand with his thumb on the other. He had to keep doing stuff with them because otherwise he was going to lose his nerve completely and run out of this room and away from Hermione's crazy ideas.
It was remarkable, he thought wryly, how she spent over four years telling them not to do anything rash, and then when there was actual danger in the school she suddenly popped up with an idea that could get them all expelled in the blink of an eye, in which she not only encouraged Harry to participate but practically coerced him into it.
Harry shook his head. Girls were strange.
More and more people were filing into the room, looking around in curiosity and wonder. Fred and George were busy examining the Dark Arts detectors, murmuring to each other and looking like they were considering expanding the brand in the market.
The three Gryffindor Chasers had also found their way fine, though in the case of Angelina a single look had satisfied her interest in the place, and she had pulled Katie and Alicia down onto some cushions with her to discuss possible Quidditch tactics. They'd had to cancel that evening's practice due to weather conditions, but the Gryffindor captain was clearly not letting such pesky things as contingency ruin her strategic moves. Angelina's dark eyes widened and flashed as she detailed her plans, her hands fluttering around her as she illustrated her words with wild gestures, causing her two team-mates to smirk in amusement and discretely motion to others that now was not the time to be within hitting distance of the impassioned captain - specifically Fred, who was behind her imitating her every move with exaggerated effeminate delicacy.
The American foreign exchange students had also arrived, looking relieved to have found the place. The Hispanic boy, Leo, was immediately waylaid by the twins as they entered the room in a group and pulled aside for a hushed conversation that involved a lot of suppressed sounds of excitement and wicked grins.
Percy's girlfriend, Annabeth, looked wonder-struck as she stared at the ceiling. The boy had mentioned in passing her passion for architecture, but as Harry looked up at the ceiling himself he couldn't really see what was so impressive that it warranted the girl's wide-eyed awe. He had a feeling Hermione would know exactly what was so special about the many vaults and arches that towered over the room, but in Hogwarts practically every room and corridor was grand and curved and Gothic, so he himself was quite fazed by this point.
Percy's other friends glanced around the room with varying degrees of interest and wonder on their faces. Harry was surprised and a little ashamed when he realised he only knew the names of only about half of them. There was Percy, obviously, and Annabeth, who was famous all around school for having walked out of Umbridge's class, and then Leo, who had come up with the idea of 'betraying' their group to Umbridge before someone else could do it and inserting a spy in Umbridge's circle. Neither Harry nor Ron had liked the idea at first, but Hermione had matter-of-factly informed them that it was all arranged and under way, so despite their misgivings they'd let the matter drop. Even Ron, who was as anti-Slytherin as they got, grudgingly recognised when prompted by Hermione that these guys barely knew their way around the castle, let alone house rivalries and prejudices.
And apparently, the stunt had pulled off. Their meeting this evening was no more secret than it would have been anyway, and with a little luck their spy had gained some status in Umbridge's view.
The spy in question was the only other non-Gryffindor of that group who Harry knew the name of. Hermione had insisted to him and Ron that Piper McLean's identity as the double-agent had to be kept an absolute secret between the three of them until the time was right to let everyone else in the defence group in the know. The only others who also knew were her friends, and Hermione made it very clear it had to stay that way.
As Harry watched the large group of American wizards, he strained to remember the names of the rest of them. He hadn't ever had cause to speak to them other than the two Hufflepuffs, and even then they hadn't really introduced themselves.
The big burly guy, Harry could just about remember, was... Fred- no, Frank. And his girlfriend was... Oh, come on. She was memorable enough for him to memorise her name, surely! He'd never seen someone do wandless magic like that - the Great Hall's doors usually needed two grown wizards working in tandem to shut them, and she'd pulled them to a close with a wave of her tiny hand.
Harry shook his head to himself. Never mind. He didn't even try to recall the names of the others - even the Gryffindors weren't that familiar, since they spent most of their time together or in their own common room. Well, since he was apparently a teacher from now on, he might pull a leaf from his schoolteachers' books and call for a round of introductions first thing.
During Harry's internal struggle with his memory and patchy attention patterns, the room had filled up until the initial thirty-six (plus Piper, who'd originally been absent for obvious reasons) were present. Conversations were loud and excited, looks - nervous, curious and sceptical - kept being directed at Harry, and quieter whispered exchanges were no less obvious when the people involved kept looking around in nervous anticipation.
Finally, when Dean Thomas had poked his dark head outside the doors - checking for a final time that they hadn't been followed or discovered - he closed them, jogged over to his cushion and sat on the ground before turning his attentive gaze to Harry, whose mouth was suddenly dry.
"Er... Hi." he said, then choked slightly because his tongue felt wooden. He coughed, trying to summon the saliva that was usually so unobtrusive and beneficent.
"Hi!" Leo called back, smiling easily. "How are you?"
Harry smiled a little, trying to hide his shaky hands.
"Erm, fine. Thanks. How are you?"
Leo shrugged, stretching out his legs and folding his hands behind his head.
"Never better, dude. You doing great, by the way."
Harry felt himself flush a little, and a few people laughed.
"What?" Leo said, grinning. "Poor guy's nervous as hell, give him a break."
Harry smiled in gratitude and rubbed his hair awkwardly. Funnily enough, Leo's antics had made him a little calmer. He had to remember he was among friends here, not hungry Acromantulae.
"Er... Right. Thanks for that, Leo. Er... Could we maybe just have a round of names, first? 'Cause I'm ashamed to say there are a couple of you I've never spoken to before."
The people in front of him nodded, and Harry motioned for the guy nearest to the door to start.
"Marius Fell," he said, a little superciliously. "Sixth-year, Ravenclaw."
"Thalia Grace, sixth-year, Gryffindor."
"Nico di Angelo, fifth-year, Slytherin."
And it went on, until Hannah Abbot muttered her name to her knees and Susan Bones yelled it out loudly for her.
The mention of two Slytherin names had caused a few ripples in the crowd, but nobody called them out on it except for a few hostile glares directed their way before all attention turned back to Harry.
The latter noticed the two Slytherins in question squirm a little under the less-than-friendly scrutiny. The boy Nico rolled his eyes, but Piper ducked her head and Jason Grace put his arm around her, scowling at the sneering Zacharias Smith in particular. He made a mental note to speak to Smith later. Harry didn't have much love for Slytherins either, but Piper was their double-agent and she at least deserved a chance.
"Right. Um, now I gave this first session a fair bit of thought and - yes, Hermione?"
Hermione Granger took her hand out of the air.
"How about a name and a leader first?" she suggested breathlessly, sounding happy and excited.
"Harry's leader." Cho Chang said, like she was talking to a dumb child.
"Yeah, I thought ol' P-dawg was the big arms here." Leo said. "Boy-Who-Lived, King of Quidditch and all that."
"Well I didn't vote for him." someone muttered.
Harry's dismay at that immediately lifted when several others shouted them down, and Leo snorted.
"'Course not, you don't vote for a king. And if we did, you wouldn't qualify. We need IQs that are higher than Umbridge's heels."
Laughter rippled around the body of students, and even Harry cracked a smile. Hermione got up on her knees, calling out for students to raise their hands if they wanted Harry for leader ("Actually, let's do it the other way around - it's easier to count." she amended, winking at Harry and grinning.) Not a single person objected to the result, and Hermione sat back down again, pleased - though not nearly so pleased or embarrassed as Harry himself.
"Um, right. Thanks. Now - what, Hermione?"
"We still haven't decided on a name." she reminded them brightly. "I think it gives us a sense of identity and unity, don't you agree?"
"Why? Defence Group Thingy not good enough for you?" Percy called out, laughing.
"How about the We Hate Umbridge Group?" on of the Weasley twins suggested. "Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Society?"
"Something that doesn't tell the world exactly what we're doing," Hermione specified, rolling her eyes.
"Brickhouse? Firework League? Potato Club?"
"Yes," Harry couldn't help saying sarcastically, "because Potato Club sounds so sophisticated."
"Aww, but we're such cute lil' potatoes," Leo wheedled. "We can even get matching hats or badges and something, and have secret recognition signals."
Harry didn't quite get how nearly forty students could wear identically potato-shaped hats and keep it a secret, especially if special handshakes kept being exchanged between them, but Cho saved him the trouble of shooting Leo down by coming up with the first sensible name.
"How about the Defence Association?" she suggested. "Doesn't sound too illegal either, unless you're Umbridge. We can even call it the DA for short, so people don't have a clue what we're talking about."
"Yeah, that's cool." Ginny joined in. "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army, 'cause isn't that Fudge's biggest fear?"
"Yes, and that doesn't tell anyone what we're doing, does it?" Leo asked sarcastically.
Ginny shrugged.
"Which is why we'll refer to it as the DA," she reasoned.
People all around her were nodding and laughing in agreement, and Hermione once more counted hands and passed the majority. She wrote 'Dumbledore's Army' at the head of the parchment that listed all their names, then magically fixed it to the wall of the room.
Hermione appeared to have done her bit, so all eyes landed back on Harry, who felt his mouth go a little dry again.
"Okay, I reckon we should start with a basic spell, Expelliarmus. I know we've probably all done it before, but I've always found it really useful-"
Zacharias Smith snorted.
"Oh please, we've known how to do Expelliarmus since we were in our cribs."
"Like I said," Harry repeated, trying to sound patient, "I've always found it useful, and it saved my life in June, so..."
"Actually Harry, I don't think we've ever done it before," Percy called out, not actually looking at Harry but at the back of Smith's blonde head. There was a strangely hard look in his eyes. "I think we'd like to have a demo before we try it ourselves."
"Otherwise who knows what'll happen when we start dabbling with unfamiliar spells," Annabeth said sweetly, her gaze equally hard and focused on the obnoxious Hufflepuff.
Her eyes switched to meet Harry's, and he immediately understood what she wanted him to do.
He gave her a faint smile in response.
"Sure," he said. "Zach, I think us two experts ought to do just fine. How about we show everyone what to do so that no one's confused, hmm?"
Smith blanched a little, clearing not having expected to be called upon so suddenly, but he set his jaw and got to his feet, squaring his thin shoulders as he marched to the front of the crowd, who was looking on gleefully. Only Zach's fellow Hufflepuffs were exchanging worried looks and anxious whispers. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw the twins lean in to hear something Leo was saying, and then discreetly exchange something he suspected was coins.
Harry drew out his wand and faced the boy's tense form, noting with mild satisfaction that he'd been right: Zach's grip was too tight, and his arm held too stiffly by his side to be wielded with the necessary speed. They bowed, and on the count of three brandished their wands at the other.
"Expelliarmus!" they shouted.
Predictably, Harry's spell landed exactly where it was meant to and Zach's, while brightly red and strong, shot way off its mark and hit the bookshelf to Harry's right as his wand flew out of his grip and landed in the crowd, where a grinning George picked it up and twirled it in his notoriously tricky hands.
The group of American students started to shout and clap, and Percy whistled so loudly that the dark-skinned girl next to him clapped her hands over her ears. She scowled at him, but Percy only laughed and carried on applauding the winner.
Zach flushed red, but to his credit he did not call for a rematch or claim he was out of practice. He stomped back to his place, snatching his wand back from George, and even nodded grudgingly at Harry, who at the last moment decided not to publicly correct his wand-grip and nodded back.
"Illuminating," Thalia Grace remarked, in her usual tones of not-quite-sarcasm but too edgy to be perfectly serious. "I'm guessing we should split up now, right?"
Harry nodded, and everyone got to their feet, very eager to start doing defensive magic for the first time that year. Most of them split into pairs, though a few groups of three students formed. These tended to be trios of friends, like Ron and Hermione who'd taken pity on Neville when he ended up alone, or Ravenclaws, who - as Smith had rudely but correctly stated - had mastered the spell aeons ago and preferred the extra challenge of two opponents rather than one. Harry was impressed as he watched Terry Boot, Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein duel with an ease and grace that seemed effortless for three full rounds before Terry's disarming spell hit Anthony's hand and caused him to yelp.
Cho Chang had paired up with her sulky friend and was doing fairly well, though for some reason whenever she noticed Harry glancing over she messed up and repeatedly caused Marietta's curls to bounce around like sentient springs. Himself feeling a little jittery whenever this happened, Harry studiously avoided going too close to them and instead walked around the room, correcting people's stances and the little flaws that had engrained themselves in their styles over the years. He kept feeling mixed twinges of satisfaction, pleasure and guilt - after all he was no real expert himself, just a happy-go-lucky Dark Arts survivor - but in the end it was pride that ruled over the rest. His tutees were indeed good at this spell, and once Luna was persuaded to concentrate, Ginny to flirt less, Ernie to stop treating the duel like a dance, and Susan to stop laughing whenever Hannah mumbled and messed up, they were actually a pretty decent bunch, and aiming in general was the only issue worth mentioning.
The only ones who were having distinctly more trouble with the spell were Percy and his friends. They were enthusiastic about it, and carefully mimicked Harry's demonstrated gestures, but apparently the spell itself was a little difficult for them to grasp.
"It's okay," Harry told a frustrated Hazel - he had at last re-learned her name thanks to Frank apologising when he caused her hair to ping out of her bun - "if this is really the first time you're using this spell it's not surprising you're having trouble with it. Just get used to the words and the gesture, and don't worry about the magic right now."
"But all the others have got it fine," Hazel said crossly, "and I heard Susan say this was only the second or third time she was doing it. I've tried five times, now!"
"Then keep going until you get it," Harry said patiently. "You will eventually."
The only ones in their group who had managed to pull it off so far were Annabeth and Nico. Twice they sent Percy and Thalia's wands spinning out of their hands before they could so much as blink. Harry congratulated them both and urged them all to practice in their free time - in private, obviously - though he made a mental note to start off the next session with Expelliarmus again before moving on to simple blocking spells. Extra practice would always be good, and this lot didn't seem to know about shielding spells either. Briefly, he wondered why that was - those were basic spells at Hogwarts, did Mythomagic have different versions of them?
"Harry, I did it!" came Neville's cry of triumph. "Did you see that? I disarmed Hermione!"
Harry noticed Hermione's faint smile and look of amusement, and suspected the victory was not so straightforward, but he nodded encouragingly at the flushed Gryffindor boy.
"Good one. Let me see another..."
Before long, an hour had gone by and the people in the room were starting to show signs of fatigue. It was a flushed and breathless Hermione who reminded Harry of the time, and he hurriedly called the practicing to an end.
"That was really, really good." he said, as sincerely as he felt. "Any issues can be ruled out very quickly, and I think next session we'll be done with this spell."
"Speaking of which, when is the next session?" Angelina called out, looking a little worried. "We really need to get on with our Quidditch practice-"
"Next Wednesday night," Hermione answered promptly. "I checked the Quidditch timetables and that's when the Slytherin team practices, so even Nico and Piper can come again since they're not on the team."
There were murmurs at the reminded presence of the two Slytherins, as though for a time they had been forgotten as potential wolves among sheep. The irony was that one of them was a spy, Harry thought with an internal smile, but not on the side everyone would think.
"That's great, thanks Hermione." Harry said loudly before anyone could say something stupid. "We wouldn't want anyone who wants to come to be left out. This is about forgetting outside rivalries and training together against a common enemy, right? Nico, Piper, avoid the Quidditch team like the plague or we'll lose you to them."
"A terrible loss, I'm sure," someone muttered, though Harry heard with pleasure the sound of them being slapped upside the head.
He clasped his hands together.
"Right. Well, I think this went really well. I'll see you next time!"
There was a noisy clamour as everyone scrambled to get to their belongings, previously abandoned on the sides, clambering over cushions and rushing back to join friends to gush about their progress that night. Harry was immediately waylaid by Ron and Hermione, who were respectively trying to crow about their victories and congratulate him with the way the evening had gone, but a tap on his shoulder made him turn around.
It was Percy. He had a few of his friends behind him, including Piper and Nico. Harry gave Percy a warm smile - he really liked the guy, for some reason, probably because he made fun of Trelawney and Umbridge and got away with it - and tried to do the same to the Slytherins, scolding himself when he felt his defences raise a little. His wariness was natural after years of enduring taunts and jabs from their House, he knew, but these two were still fairly new and - in theory - not in any way tainted by the reputation of their housemates.
"Hey man, congrats on tonight," Percy said with a smile. "It was really cool. I think even Piper the pacifist managed to get it in the end, didn't you Pipes?"
The girl nodded and smiled so warmly at Harry that he felt his insides almost turn to water. Distantly, his mind registered this as somewhat surprising: usually only Cho did that to him. Her eyes were very pretty; he couldn't tell what colour they were, and her voice sounded like a song he knew...
"...never done anything like that before, especially as I'm no good at physical fighting usually, but you're a really good teacher."
Hermione stepped on his foot and Harry snapped out of it. Next to him, Ron jumped a little as well. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Er... Thanks. You did great. Everyone did. Um... Percy, was there anything you needed...?" he asked awkwardly, turning away from Piper a little. Bloody hell, if she talked to Umbridge like that when she reported to her, the girl would end up the Hogwarts princess within the month.
Percy had been smirking at Harry and his friends, maybe a little too knowingly, but he became more serious at Harry's enquiry.
"Yes, actually," he answered, his expression now a little more grim. "Nico told us something that happened to him, which you definitely need to know about..."
Harry listened in alarm and slight horror as Nico related his meeting with Snape in the dungeons. The context of the tale was somewhat vague - Harry recognised at once the narrative style of someone deliberately skirting around the subject - but the essence of it was clear and thoroughly alarming.
"I bloody knew it!" Ron fumed when Nico fell silent, "That bastard can read minds!"
Harry agreed, but a few other people were present in the room and within possible earshot, so he motioned for Ron to quiet down.
"This is really serious," he intoned to the others, who had formed a circle around him. Harry absently ran a hand through his hair, already messy from the exertions of of the past hour and now positively broom-like. "I never expected anything like this."
"The question is, how do we deal with it?" Hermione posed, biting her lip. "Do we tell everyone in the DA and risk Snape noticing something's off?"
"Of course we tell them," came Annabeth's immediate answer. "They need to learn very quickly to be careful what they're thinking whenever they're in proximity of Snape. The DA's spread across three years and all four Houses - and we probably all take Potions. That multiplies Snape's chances of noticing odd thoughts from his students."
Hermione was nodding even before Annabeth finished, frowning thoughtfully.
"All right... Yes, that makes sense. But we need a way of reaching everyone at once, preferably not by human messengers or even owls. We need our own method, as inconspicuous as possible..."
She withdrew from the group, deeply in thought and muttering to herself, dodging Angelina as she went. The Quidditch captain had lingered back a little, and was talking animatedly to Jason and Hazel - something about noticing their quick reflexes and wanting them on the reserve teams of both their houses. Percy drew Harry to one side, dragging Annabeth and Piper with him.
"There's something else," he said even more quietly. "Piper told us about her first meeting with Umbridge when she told her about the DA, and that damn harpy has more tricks up her sleeves than a six-armed magician."
"She's using blackmail to control Piper." Annabeth summed up grimly. "Umbridge knows Piper's close to us even if she acts differently, so she's using that as proof that she's also involved in any resistance trouble we get in."
"Guilt by association," Harry said, nodding and scowling. God, this was getting much more complex than he expected. He was a Defense tutor, for Merlin's sake, not M!
"And Umbridge made it clear to Piper that if she even thinks of lying to her or shirking her new duties, then her friends - meaning all of us in the DA, by now - walk the plank." Percy explained.
Harry swore.
"Also, she expects a report on all our activities - meaning yours, ours, Ron's and Hermione's - twice a week." Piper added, looking guilty.
Harry swore louder.
UPDATE: You know the drill. The chapter's title, Aut Imiteris Aut Oderis, means 'either imitate the world or loathe it'.