And so we get to see what Dumbles' next move is.
Spy: Knowing ze 'eadmaster, nothing good.
Kyugan: Not manipulative Dumbles, remember?
Spy: But ov course...
Kyugan: Not that I don't like fics with manipulative Dumbles, but I figured I'd try to avoid that route for now, too many out there, especially with Slytherin Harry's.
Heavy: So Much Fanfics!
Kyugan: There there Heavy, there there...in any case, the wheel of Fate is Turning, let's see what this latest shift in the continuum has wrought.
Chapter 4: Defence Against the Dark Arts for Dummies.
Herwald sighed, muttering unmentionable things in German as he sat in McGonagall's office, waiting for the Sorting to finish so that he could turn his anger on Dumbledore.
It was a justifiable sentiment in his opinion, after all, the year hadn't even officially started yet and already the meddlesome old twinkler was trying to meddle in his affairs. You'd think after the fiasco with the false Philosopher's stone the previous year the man would've learned his lesson, but it seemed Dumbledore was just as stubborn as Grandfather Jubstacheit when it came to getting what he wanted, if not more so, and so had asked McGonagall to escort Herwald away from the hall, the smell of delicious food trailing temptingly after them, ushering him into her office, which he noted was decorated with tartan, a sign of her highland roots, before leaving to continue the sorting.
All in all, it was a rather poorly done, as now not only was Herwald tired, cranky, and mildly concerned for his sanity, now he was hungry and annoyed as all Hell to boot. Needless to say, Dumbledore had better have a good explanation for keeping him here, or Heaven help him there wasn't going to be enough of the man to bury in a matchbox, sealing designation be damned.
No sooner had he thought this did McGonagall return, bringing with her Professor Snape, Herwald's own head of house, and Albus Dumbledore himself, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot smiling apologetically at the boy, only to flinch as Herwald's stare intensified.
"My apologies for keeping you here, Harry." He offered, his tone trying to make light of the situation, only to fail in the face of Herwald's intensifying anger "I regret that the sorting requires the Headmaster's presence and there was a rather bumper crop of difficult placements this year."
"What am I here for, Headmaster?" Herwald demanded, making it clear that he had no desire, nor patience, to listen to the old man's excuses "I highly doubt I have broken a rule so soon after walking through the front gate, certainly not one that would require a personal audience with my Year of Head in attendance."
"Oh no, you didn't break any rules." Dumbledore assured him, eyes twinkling as he glanced at Snape, who shook his head minutely "None that I've heard of anyway. I merely wished to speak with you."
"With all due resects, Headmaster." Herwald muttered, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming behind his eyes that he normally associated with annoying people that just wouldn't take a hint and bugger off "I've had a long day, I'm tired, hungry, and in need of a bath and a warm bed, couldn't this have waited until tomorrow?"
"No, Harry, it couldn't." Dumbledore countered, and Herwald was surprised to hear an undertone of sternness in the Headmaster's voice, looking up to see that, despite the twinkling of his eyes, the man looked unusually grave "I'd like you to tell me where you were this summer."
"With my family." Herwald replied, frowning as he felt something brush against his wards briefly, as if testing they were there, only to recede the moment he reacted to it's presence "I believe I told you so in the infirmary last year."
"Indeed, I do believe we discussed the manner of you staying with your Aunt and Uncle over the summer." Dumbledore admitted, twitching slightly, as if recalling something painful, his features saddening for a moment before looking at the boy "However, from what I understand you never turned up at their house, your Uncle spent the better part of the day waiting for you at King's Cross Station, only to give up when nobody arrived."
"I was unaware that there would be anyone waiting for me at King's Cross, Headmaster." Herwald admitted, quirking a brow in honest surprise, though he hadn't missed the breath of relief McGonagall had released nor the way Snape's posture had relaxed slightly when Dumbledore revealed they'd missed one another, "In any case, I doubt I would have gone anyway, as I needed to return home to deal with a private, Einzbern Family matter."
Not strictly true, as the Einzberns had made it all too clear they hadn't cared if Illyasviel lived or died. However, Shirou and the others had chosen not to reveal this fact, as there was no telling how the pair would react, and the last thing they needed was the Magus Association sending Enforcers out to bring Herwald in for murdering the entire family.
"I…see…" Dumbledore noted, the Supreme Mugwump ignoring his deputy-headmistress' flinch at the Einzbern name in favour of staring down his very crooked nose, which had actually been broken by the boy before him on one occasion, his blue eyes boring into Herwald's emerald green silently, like two cat's trying to outstare the other "Then you were at Castle Einzbern?"
"I was with my family, Headmaster." Herwald countered firmly, yet politely "Where we chose to spend our holidays is, with all due respect, none of your business, and if you persist in this I'm afraid I'll have to accuse you of overstepping your bounds as Headmaster, which I'm afraid will mean suing you for invasion of privacy."
"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall choked, her cry drowning out Snape's snort as the Gryffindor head stood before the boy with her hands on her hips "That is no way to speak to the Headmaster!"
"Thank you, Minerva." Dumbledore countered, raising a hand placatingly when the woman opened her mouth to protest, looking honestly amused with the boy's announcement "The boy is right, as humbling as it may seem, I AM technically overstepping my bounds as Headmaster." He looked at Herwald, and his eyes were serious "However, it is well within my rights to ensure my students are safe, whether that be at Hogwarts, or at home, so I am afraid you must bear with this invasion of your privacy, Harry, until we can ascertain that you are somewhere SAFE."
Herwald scowled, wanting nothing more than to march out of the room to spite the man, expulsion be damned, only to pull up short at the look in those blue eyes, devoid of their trademark twinkle. There was concern there, concern and a desire to act on those concerns, a desire to ensure that the person reflected in those eyes was safe from all wrongdoing.
Herwald had only seen eyes like that once before, when he awoke to see Shirou standing over him shortly after Gilgamesh kidnapped Illyasviel. The redhead had looked so relieved to see him alive he'd almost burst into tears.
"…My family lives in Japan." He muttered, earning looks of surprise, for different reasons, from the three teachers "We're close friends of the Guardian of the Land, who personally ensured the bounded field over the house couldn't be detected or breached by anyone bearing ill-will."
"I see…" Dumbledore mused, his moustache twitching in thought as he mulled over the information, McGonagall and Snape looking between the two in surprise, and with good reason. While Japan possessed Magi of its own, few ever travelled to the mainland for training, and fewer still European magi ever opted to visit the island nation, deeming it unimportant, and the locals backwater entrail-readers, if Quirrell's comments the previous year were any indication.
In short, it was the perfect place to hide the boy who had a semi-immortal, wraith-like Dark Lord after his ass. Voldemort rarely set foot outside the UK, the odds of him even suspecting Herwald was in Japan were slim to none.
"Is that all, sir?" Herwald demanded, his tone rather pointed, but then he WAS at the end of his patience and was rather looking forward to a nice-soft bed, even if it meant going without dinner.
"For now, Harry." Dumbledore conceded, his eyes twinkling at the boy "But rest assured we will be speaking of this regularly in future. There are more dangers out there than you realize, and it is my duty as Headmaster to ensure no harm comes to you." He smiled "However, I can promise the next time we speak, it will certainly be at a more convenient time, for both of us."
"Wunderbar." Herwald muttered, the adopted Einzbern shaking his head only to scowl as his treacherous stomach chose that moment to voice its displeasure at missing the feast "Can I go now?"
"Ah, but of course." Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes twinkling once more, "Severus, would you be so kind as to escort young Harry back to the feast, that is, if he's not too tired after all this? Minerva and I will be right along."
"Very well." Snape acknowledged, turning to Herwald with a curt nod "Come along, Mr. Potter." He insisted, Herwald rolling his eyes, knowing that the man was using his 'official' title simply because the headmaster was present "Hopefully your housemates have left something for you to nibble on."
"Knowing Vincent and Gregory's appetites I doubt it sir." Herwald joked, earning quirk of the lips from the hook-nosed Potion's Master as he followed the man out of McGonagall's office, down the corridors and back to the Great Hall, where he swiftly joined his fellow Slytherins, who were quick to welcome him back with questions and concerns, which Herwald answered as evasively as he could between mouthfuls of delicious food, only half listening as Dumbledore ran through the usual list of rules and regulations, before following his house mates down to the dungeons, into the Slytherin Common Room, heading straight for his bed for a well-deserved night's sleep.
Rise and shine maggots!
Unfortunately for Herwald, a night wasn't enough to silence the curiosity of Hogwarts' student body, and no sooner had he sat down at the table did he immediately come under the scrutiny of everyone in the hall, who wanted to know just what the Headmaster had wanted with the Boy-Who-Lived.
Some, mainly Gryffindors, believed the old man had warned him about possible expulsion, or had tried to get him to consider transferring to another house. The Hufflepuffs believed he merely wanted to make sure Herwald was alright, as the boy had a penchant for getting into trouble, last year's disaster with the False Stone being a prime example. The Ravenclaws, naturally, could care less, and were simply going along with the debates because such things were bread and butter to them. Quite frankly they could've cared less if the old man had tried to jump Herwald in the corridors wearing a thong.
'Bad mental image…' Herwald swore, turning slightly green, forgoing the fried foods in front of him in favour of a healthy bowl of porridge, seasoned with honey, while the Slytherins chatted amongst themselves, the serpents knowing full well the worst way to get information out of the Einzbern was to keep pestering him about it. Fortunately, they were further dissuaded from doing so as Professor Snape arrived, the Potion's Master handing out their schedules, Herwald quirking a brow at the sight of Defence Against the Dark Arts marked down for later that day.
"I wonder who the old man brought in to teach us THIS year…" he muttered, wishing he'd thought to look up at the staff table this morning, or last night even, as he made his way out of the hall towards his first class, Charms "Hopefully it's someone competent."
Unbeknownst to Herwald, the moment he said this, a certain blonde Fop sneezed, causing his scalding hot breakfast to spill into his lap.
Needless to say, that mornings DADA lesson was cancelled.
Later that day...
After a rather informative session in Charms, followed by Transfiguration and finally Herbology, where Herwald was pleasantly surprised to learn they'd be tending to Mandrakes, a rare magical plant that could kill with their screams, the Slytherins made their way to the Great Hall for Lunch, where Herwald failed to spot the new DADA Professor amongst the staff, making a note to ask about him when they bumped into Ron, Neville and Hermione on the way out.
"Did you hear?" Neville asked, the round-faced Gryffindor looking nervously at Crabbe and Goyle, as he couldn't help feeling intimidated by them "Apparently we'll be taking DADA together to make up for the Teacher missing out this morning."
"Honestly…" Draco muttered, the heir of house Malfoy shaking his head in annoyance at the revelation "Dumbledore's standards have gone way down, have you READ those Lockhart books?"
"I have." Herwald admitted, cutting off Hermione, who'd opened her mouth to give a sharp retort, the Gryffindor girl looking rather upset for some reason "They're very…informative…" he grimaced at how much the man seemed to love the sound of his own voice, even in print "Though he tends to ramble on."
"It's like reading a bloody diary…" Ron muttered, shaking his head in disgust "Honestly, I'll admit the bit where he fought off a werewolf that trapped him in a phelly-tone box was cool, but did we REALLY need to know he was calling his agent with Witches Weekly at the time?"
"It's Telephone Ron." Hermione sighed, shaking her head "And he was just setting the mood." She insisted, looking decidedly prim as she regarded the boys before her defiantly.
"I'd say being attacked by a werewolf would be setting the mood enough." Herwald muttered wryly, earning a blush from the girl as he shook his head "In any case, does anyone know exactly who our new DADA Professor is? What with everything that happened yesterday I never got around to asking."
"You mean you don't KNOW?" Hermione exclaimed, looking alarmed, as if the very idea was a class-A felony worthy of a Sealing Designation "How could you have missed it?"
"I was a little preoccupied being interrogated for most of the previous evening." Herwald replied dryly, earning another flush from the girl even as he turned his attention back to the others "So who is it?"
"You'll find out soon, we've got DADA after lunch." Ron muttered, looking annoyed while Hermione looked torn between wanting to surprise Herwald and wanting to spill the beans, LOUDLY.
Needless to say, Herwald was VERY intrigued by this point, and was eager to see just what kind of person the new DADA Professor was, only to pull up short as he felt a pair of eyes watching him, turning slowly to espy a small, mousy-haired boy staring at him as though transfixed, clutching what appeared to be an ordinary Muggle camera. The moment he realized the gig was up however, the preteen voyeur blushed a bright red and stepped into view.
"All right, Harry?" he asked breathlessly, as if he'd run a marathon "I'm…I'm Colin Creevey." he introduced, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too." He raised the camera hopefully "D'you think…would it be all right if…can I have a picture?" he finally managed to get out, only to flush at Herwald's quirked brow "So I can prove I've met you," he insisted eagerly, edging further forward "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you've still got a lightning scar on your forehead…"
Herwald grimaced as the boy went on, thankful that his bangs covered the damnable wound from view, even as he glared murderously at the others, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle snickering pointedly at his discomfort, even Hermione struggling to contain her giggles, though Ron seemed annoyed for some reason, and so was given a pass.
"My dad's a milkman," Collin revealed, earning a slight frown from Draco, as even a year with Herwald couldn't TOTALLY fix his opinions in regards to Muggleborns. He was getting better but it was a slow process "he couldn't believe it either. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him and it'd be really good if I had one of you." he looked imploringly at the elder youth "maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?"
"Go on Herwald." Draco urged, his amusement at the situation easily winning over his inbred prejudice as he elbowed his friend in the side "Think of it as practice for when you have to deal with your fan club."
"What's all this, what's all this?" a voice called out, cutting off Herwald, who'd been about to snarl something foul in German at his so-called friend, the Einzbern turning to gape in disbelief at none other than Gilderoy Lockhart as the man strode toward them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. "Who's giving out signed photos?"
"Was zur Hölle are YOU doing here?" Herwald demanded, unable to help himself, unable, no, REFUSING to think for even a second that the work-shy-fop before him had any reason to be here expect perhaps for target practice.
"HM?" the man blinked, pulling up short, his eyes widening in alarm as they landed on the emerald-eyed boy, only for him to recover swiftly, breaking into a charming smile that didn't quite cover the nervousness in his jovial tone. "Ah, we meet again Harry!" he proclaimed loudly, though he took no further steps towards the boy-who-lived, a wise decision, as Herwald's right hand was twitching just from the sound of his voice "My it seems like only yesterday we met in Flourish and Blotts-!"
"I asked you a question, Scheißekopf." Herwald snapped, earning a look of surprise from Draco, the only one of the group with a passable mastery of German, and a look of affront, more for his tone, from Hermione "What are you doing here?"
"Yes, well, I suppose I never got to tell anyone after my little slip-up before." Lockhart stammered, rallying admirably as he struck a pose "I suppose it must have come as a shock to see me after our sudden parting, but Dumbledore, in his wisdom as Headmaster, offered me the position of DADA Professor," he spread his arms wide "and of course, I accepted!"
Herwald gaped, his brain unable to comprehend what it had just been told, only to turn on his heel, marching off, muttering unpleasant things in German that caused Draco's ears to turn pink.
"Poor boy's so moved he's embarrassed!" Lockhart preened, earning a look of wonderment from Hermione and disgust from everyone else "Ah it's such a pressure, being a role model…"
One Germanic Tantrum Lay-ter...
Needless to say, by the time DADA with the Gryffindors rolled around, Herwald was in a decidedly foul mood, his emerald eyes glinting like frozen gems as he sat at the back of the class, wanting to be as far away from Lockhart as possible without leaving the room.
When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell, the blonde fop reaching forward and picking up Neville's copy of Travels with Trolls, holding it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.
"Me," he introduced, pointing at it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award." He chuckled roguishly "but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"
He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly, though Herwald was disgusted to note most of the Gryffindor females seemed to be staring at him as if her were Adonis personified.
"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books." The man noted, looking decidedly pleased, and well he should, a single book alone cost more than the previous booklist put together "Well done, I thought we'd start today with a little quiz." He winked again at the looks of panic on their faces "Nothing to worry about just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in…"
'Oh honestly…' Herwald muttered, rolling his eyes in exasperation even as he watched the man hand out the test papers, sending him a decidedly chilly glare when he approached forcing the man to ask another student to pass the paper over 'Could he BE more obvious?'
"You have thirty minutes." Lockhart declared, having retreated to the front of the class to put some distance between Herwald and himself "You may start….now!"
Muttering to himself, Herwald turned over his test papers, took one look at the questions listed there, and promptly vowed to force-feed Dumbledore his own beard for forcing him to put up with this…this prima-donna!
'Like hell I'm answering any of these.' he muttered, setting the offending waste of paper on the desk and crossing his arms before him, instead devoting his attention to glaring at Lockhart, who began to fidget within a matter of moments, making every excuse to look anywhere but at the back of the class for the next half hour, after which he wisely asked for the papers to be handed up, rifling through them in front of the class.
"Tut, tut, hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is lilac." He reprimanded, rather like a nanny addressing a naughty infant than a teacher addressing a room full of juvenile wizards, most of which were QUITE capable of hexing his nose off "I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully — I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples," he winked roguishly "though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky!"
Herwald rolled his eyes again, a sentiment that was shared by every Slytherin and the Gryffindor males, most of which were either struggling to restrain their laughter, or were staring at the man with abject disbelief. To Herwald's disgust, Hermione and the rest of the Gryffindor girls were listening to Lockhart with rapt attention, the bushy haired girl giving a start when he mentioned her name.
"But Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions." The fop declared, smiling brilliantly "Good girl! In fact, full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?" he beamed as she raised a trembling hand "Excellent! Most excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And now, to business…"
Herwald was rather disappointed that the fop hadn't called him out on his blatant refusal to accommodate his ego, he actually had a nice retort planned out that would've browbeaten the man into a concussion. Instead, Lockhart bent down behind his desk, lifting out, with some strain Herwald was pleased to note, a large cage covered with a sheet.
"Now be warned!" the fop declared dramatically, raising a finger to his lips whilst winking roguishly at the class "It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind!"
'Unless you've got Kotomine Kirei's reanimated corpse stuffed in there I highly doubt it.' Herwald muttered, smirking slightly at the image of the foulest creature he had knowledge of being stuffed into something the size of a rabbit cage. The image was rather ruined, therefore, when Lockhart whipped off the cover, revealing the contents of the cage for all to see.
"Freshly caught Cornish pixies." The fop declared dramatically, smiling at the group, only to blink as Herwald, completely thrown by the revelation, fell out of his chair, one leg twitching spasmodically "Nothing to be sacred of Harry! It's perfectly safe!"
"Of all zur dämlich, over-dramatichen…" Herwald muttered, the Slytherins quirking their brows as the boy's accent worsened, knowing he only reverted to German when pushed too far "Of all zur things you could have brought, you picked something an untrained CHILD could deal with?"
The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.
"Well of course." Lockhart noted, smiling at the boy-who-lived charmingly, though it didn't quite match his eyes, which were torn between nervous and annoyed "I'd hardly bring something like a Yeti, now would I?"
"Considering the fact a Troll broke into the dungeons last year I don't think one of their hairy cousins would cause undue distress." Herwald countered, earning a look of surprise from the man, as he clearly hadn't been briefed on what had happened the previous year "There is a fly on your nose, Herr Lockhart."
Lockhart went cross-eyed for a moment, frowning as he tried to spot the annoying pest that had alighted on his precious schnozz, only to find nothing there, looking up to see Herwald had resumed his seat, the boy smirking at the gullible fool in silent victory. "Ahem, yes well…" he stammered, averting his eyes from those unsettling emerald orbs once more, the smile on his face now rather strained as he wiped sweat from his brow with a handkerchief "Don't let their harmless appearance fool you!" he countered, waggling a finger annoyingly at the class "Pixies are known to be devilishly tricky little blighters!" he smiled, and Herwald swore he saw a gleam of wickedness in his eyes as he reached for the latch "Right, then, let's see what you make of them!"
Herwald swore, his wand slipping into his left hand the minute the cage was opened, a good thing too, as no sooner had the dumkopf stepped back did the pixies rush out, flying in every direction like rockets. Two of them bore down on Neville, only to be driven off by a pair of brutally accurate stunners that sent them reeling backwards, the round-faced boy sending a thanks before whipping out his own wand, ducking for cover as the rest of the beasts made a shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass.
While their brethren made a bid for freedom, the rest of the Pixies proceeded to wreck the classroom almost as effectively as Taiga on a rampage, grabbing ink bottles and spraying the class with their contents, shredding those textbooks and papers unfortunate enough to be out in the open, tearing Lockhart's pictures from the walls, up-ending the waste basket, grabbing book bags and hurling them out of the smashed window, all in the space of a few minutes.
It was, in short, absolute pandemonium, half the class joining Neville in sheltering under desks, while the rest tried to fend off their attackers as best they could, Crabbe and Goyle swatting them out of their air with their massive fists, while Draco and a few others hurled curses, magical and otherwise, at the pests.
"Come on now." Lockhart shouted over the din, looking like he was rather enjoying their plight as he clapped his hands in that pompous way designed to give the impression of superiority "Round them up, round them up, they're only pixies." He sighed as two of them grabbed the hem of a Slytherin Girl's robes and pulled it up over her head, causing her to screech in fury "Watch! It's easy!" he declared, rolling up his sleeves and brandishing his wand with a bellow of "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"
If the butchered attempt at Latin had meant to do anything, it didn't, unless Lockhart INTENDED for one of the cackling little bastards to seize his wand right out of his hand and hurl it out the window, the fop swallowing nervously before diving under his own desk. By this point, Herwald had seen more than enough, the Einzbern using his desk as a springboard to leap up and grab the iron chandelier, an emerald flash and a woman's scream heralding the activation of his arrays, which broke the fixture down and reshaped it even as he dropped, the Einzbern whipping round the moment he touched down, a fresh set or iron throwing knives at his disposal, the molecule-thick projectiles flying expertly through the air, the Pixies screams of agony as the poisonous (to them) metal pierced their fragile bodies like a siren's call to the already annoyed Einzbern.
Within seconds, all the Pixies were pinned to the walls like some macabre Lepidopteral nightmare, the rest of the class looking on in wonder as Herwald dusted off his hands, sending an annoyed glare at Lockhart as he peeked over the edge of his desk.
"Shall I mark that up as extra credit, Herr Lockhart?" Herwald asked drolly, his smile cold as the bell rang, the adopted Einzbern not even waiting for a reply as he picked up his book bag, which had survived untouched, and swept out of the classroom without looking back.
Herwald 2, Lockhart...actually it's so low I can't even put it into words, somewhere below the squre route of pie
Heavy: Pie is good!
Spy: Indeed it is, my corpulant friend.
Kyugan: Wrong type of pie, but I must agree that pie is good.
Piro: Mhmmhmm *Comes in with a freshly baked pie*
Heavy: Khorosho!
Kyugan: Indeed, in any case, a little short, but I think we can make do for now.