Defence Against Professor Sang

The first thing that tipped them off was the coffin leaning against the chalkboard.

It was black and dusty and large enough to fit even Hagrid, the games keeper. The classroom was filled with darkness, for every patch of window was covered with heavy curtains. The only thing keeping them from complete blindness was the oil lamps hooked on the walls.

The teacher was nowhere to be seen.

"It's too damn dark," complained a girl in green and silver, and she ripped apart the curtains, basking the musky classroom with light.

"CLOSE THEM!" boomed a voice.

The Slytherin scrambled to push them together, then jumped into her seat.

The coffin, which they realized was where the voice was coming from, creaked open. His hair was silvery grey, hanging down just past his shoulders. He was dressed in black trousers, boots, a red shirt and a black jacket so loose it hung off him like a cape. The man stepped out from the coffin and affixed the room with piercing red eyes.

"My name is Professor Sang and I do not condone foolishness. If you do not behave, then I will kill you. Simple as that."

Evans rose her hand. "Please, sir, but I hope you aren't threatening us," she whined. "That's illegal."

"So sue me," Sang curled his lip. The professor waved his hand a large sheet of paper unfurled from the ceiling. The title was: CLASSROOM RULES. "Remember these rules with your lives, because if you don't – you'll find that you won't have one. Rule number 1: Do not leave you necks exposed. It gets…ah, a bit chilly down here, and I'd just hate to see you get sick. Number two: garlic is absolutely prohibited - just because. Number three: No one is allowed to open these curtains – ever. It ruins the mood." He tapped the paper with a hand and it zoomed back up.

"Now," Professor Sang said, giving a sharp smile. "Any questions?"

"Is our new teacher wicked or what?" exclaimed Sirius as they exited the gloomy classroom.

"Or what is more like it," muttered Evans from behind them.

"Sorry, Evans, but I don't remember asking you."

She pushed past them, but not before stomping on Sirius' foot on the way out.

"I don't know," said Remus. "Something just doesn't sit right with me."

"Is it the 'No Neck Showing' ban?" offered Peter.

"His name meaning blood in French?"

"The red eyes?"

"The bloody coffin?"

"Hating garlic?"

"Hating sunlight?'

"The sharp teeth?"

"Keep it down," shushed Remus, walking ahead. "Don't vampires have, like, super sensitive hearing, or something?"

Sirius shrugged as they caught up. "You're the bookworm here, Remus, you tell me."

"So what do we do?" asked Peter. "Should we tell a teacher?"

James shook his head. "They probably already know. They have to be aware of stuff like this. You can't hire a guy to teach at school and not know that he's a vampire."

"Maybe he's working for You-Know-Who!" said Peter suddenly. "Sang could be his spy!"

"But why would he be spying on us?" asked Sirius. "We're not that dangerous."

"Perhaps there's something here that Voldemort wants and Sang's trying to get it for him! Maybe it's a secret weapon he can use to wipe us all out!"

Sirius' eyes resembled dinner saucers. "OK, you need to chill out, buddy. One, we would've found that secret weapon long before old Sang would've been able to get it. And B, we shouldn't be making assumptions of the guy before we even get to know him."

"Good morning, boys," came a voice behind them. The boys were ashamed to say that they jumped about a foot in the air. Professor McGonagall looked faintly amused. "Shouldn't you be heading to second period? Transfiguration, is it?"

"We were trying to find you, Professor," said James, smiling angelically.

"Have you met the new Defence teacher, Professor?" queried Sirius.

McGonagall picked up a brisk pace. "Of course. All new teaching staff are introduced to us before the start of the term. Oh, we really must be going."

But the boys remained persistent. "Doesn't he seem a little…odd, to you?" insisted James.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, and we really shouldn't be talking about it. It's really none of your concern if Professor Sang sleeps inside a coffin –" Thankfully, they had arrived at the classroom before McGonagall could try to backtrack and they scurried in like mice after cheese.

Over the next few days, Sang made the Marauders reconsider their idea of him being 'wicked'. On the contrary, he had turned into a total monster (pun not intended).

He had shouted at poor Mary MacDonald for not wearing a turtleneck, and when she came back from changing, ordered her as punishment to move the black coffin to the other side of the room – without the aid of magic.

When Sirius answered one of his questions, Professor Sang made him move his stool to the back corner of the classroom and to sit, facing the wall, because he hadn't raised up his hand.

Severus Snape was attentively scribbling down Sang's lecture, when he had suddenly found his parchment snatched away from him, and into the mouth of their beloved teacher. Once Sang had managed to swallow the wad, he had screeched "NO ONE IS TO WRITE WHEN I'M TALKING!"

Snape was shunned to face the wall, as well.

"Professor," called Evans, meekly. "Professor, would we get the same results if we did a combination of two wrist swishes instead of three?"

Sang merely gave her the finger.

"What a bloody maniac!" Those were the first words out of James Potter's mouth the moment they entered their dormitory.

Peter nodded in agreement, changing into a fresh pair of trousers.

"My neck hurts," moaned Sirius, rotating his head.

Remus threw his backpack onto his made bed. "We've got to get rid of him. I don't think I can take another day of his freaking teaching."

"Now you're talking, Lupin," said James with a smirk. "I knew there was a reason you're a Marauder!"

On 14 September, 1974, 'Operation Bye-Bye Bat' was executed.

At daybreak, Peter was seen entering the kitchens and exiting five minutes later with 4 garlic necklaces looped around his arms.

Meanwhile, James and Sirius had broken in to the DADA classroom.

As they were tying ropes to the heavy curtains, they heard snoring coming from the black coffin. Thankfully, it was still located at the back of the classroom, the same position MacDonald had moved it to, otherwise, Sang would have busted them and sucked up their blood or whatever sick punishment he thought of this time.

Remus Lupin was behind the Greenhouse One, a bucket of water in front of him. He needed to make the water holy... but how?

Just then, Hagrid came into view. He was lumbering down the hill, whistling a drunken tune when he spotted Remus, and changed course. Remus had to keep a firm hold onto the bucket to keep it from sloshing down the sides.

"What'cha doin' up so early, Remus?"

"I'm…doing a project," answered the werewolf. This is true, in a way. I am saving our student body from a wacko. Practically the same thing."Hagrid, do you know how to make holy water?"

Not finding anything peculiar about that statement, Hagrid hummed. "Do ya know what? Last night, I won a pack of holy salt from this lad. 'e said to boil some water and then pour it in, and the water's 'stantly holy. I'm not sure 'ow much I beli'e him, though."

"That's alright, Hagrid!"

Perfect.

At precisely 11 AM, everything was all set. Sang came out ten minutes late, ushering them inside with a lazy hand. The Marauders couldn't contain their smirks. The itchy garlic necklaces were sticking uncomfortably from underneath their turtlenecks, but it barely deterred them. Remus had transferred the holy water into a spray bottle and it was tucked away safely in his satchel. Everything was go, go, go.

They took their places at the back of the classroom. The rope attached to the curtains was clutched in James and Sirius' hands. When they tugged on it, the curtains would fall apart, pouring the room with light. The garlic's fumes would distract Sang and then Remus would spray the holy water in his face.

Two things would either happen:

1) Sang will barely flinch, lock the door and kill them all as he laughs evilly, or

B) Sang will turn into ash, reborn into his bat counterpart and then kill them all.

Fortunately, the Marauders came up with a Plan B: run like hell. Hopefully, their classmates would have enough sense to run away too or else Hogwarts would be looking at a huge massacre.

"OK, you midgets," drawled Sang, slamming the door with a foot. "Today we'll be learning about whatever the hell I want to teach." He picked up Evans' pristine textbook, and flipped through the pages, remembering to lick his finger before each turn. Evans looked ready to cry.

Sang's eyes brightened as his eyes rested on a chapter. "Looks like we're learning about vampires, children! My favourite topic!"

At those words, the class broke into whispers. Most people had already speculated, but this just further convinced them. Sang was a blood-sucking, neck-biting vampire.

SCREEEECH!

Sang smirked as the classroom squirmed in discomfort. He took his nails off the chalkboard. "You little brats! Did I say you could speak? Ungrateful children, the lot of you. Your parents don't straighten you up enough at home. Thank Dracula I'm your teacher this term, because when I'm done with you there won't be a rebellious bone in your body - because I'll break them."

Swoosh! The curtains fell down and the room was illuminated with light. Sang screamed, covering his eyes. Remus rolled to the floor. Taking out his bottle, he aimed it at Sang and sprayed. The liquid touched the vampire's hands and he screamed again, dropping to the floor. Peter took off their garlic necklaces and tossed it at the withering man. Sang yelped once more, and bumps began to form on his face.

Then, he suddenly stopped. His chest gave a pitiful heave before halting altogether.

It seemed that they were completely wrong about Professor Sang. He wasn't a vampire, after all.

From a young age, Dominic Sang had developed a fascination for vampires. They could not tolerate the sun, they could not stand garlic and they lived in freaking coffins. How wicked was that? Plus in some ways, he was almost like a vampire himself.

Sang had a condition called Photophobia, meaning he had an extreme sensitivity to light. He couldn't go out in the day without giving himself painful headaches, not to mention damaging his eyesight. So that was why he covered his classroom with drapery.

Also, Sang wasn't kidding about hating garlic, because he was allergic. So much, that even a mere sniff of the vegetable would knock him out cold. And let's not talk about what would happen if it somehow managed to touch his skin.

The holy water Remus had thought was holy water, wasn't really holy water at all. The salt packet Hagrid had won off 'a lad' was filled with toxins. When dissolved with water, it created a weapon that could melt through wood.

As for the 'No Neck Showing' ban? At Sang's last school, a bunch of kids thought it'd be cool to put red paint on their necks and play dead. When Sang arrived to teach, he found his students all 'murdered'. He hadn't been the same since.

The Marauders could say the same for themselves, too. Lucky for them, Sang was just passed out and not dead. He was currently recovering in the Infirmary, and it didn't look like he was going to be signing up for another term. And who would?

The visited him at the Hospital Wing the next day. It was apart of their punishment (Filch looked all too happy as he read through the long list of chores they were going to be handling for the next months).

Sang's bed was shrouded with black curtains. His head was bandaged several times with gauze, and so were his hands. The bumps on his skin seemed to be fading, so that was good. Sang's glassy red eyes were fixed someplace above James' shoulder.

"We're really sorry, Professor," they chorused together.

Sang didn't respond.

But just as they were jostled out by a peeved Pomprey, the Marauders swore the man let his eyelid drop in a cheeky, deliberate wink.

A/N: Thanks to The United States of Narnia (love the name!), Remus' daughter, Hpdwlotr24, chaosshotgun, PerfectionJune, MissDemigodWizard, Harry1675, Guests, Chuggamuffin, Lizzie Jean Potter, Moony1972 and MurtaghSarlaac84 for reviewing!

What's your favourite supernatural? They're all so cool, I can't pick one...but for some reason, I'm a big softie when it comes to werewolves...:))