Matou Shinji and the Heirs of Slytherin
A Harry Potter / Fate Stay Night Story
Disclaimer: Though I wish it were otherwise, I do not own or in any way, shape or form hold a legal or moral claim to elements of either the Nasuverse, the Potterverse, or other works I may reference in the course of this story.
Summary: Trouble is brewing in the Wizarding World. In the wake of the Stone Incident, Albus Dumbledore has begun quietly preparing Britain to survive the coming war. The Stone Cutters, a new organization at Hogwarts for the most talented and distinguished of students, seek new blood to bolster its strength. The Boy-Who-Lived seeks his destiny as the Heir of Slytherin. And a boy from the east meets a specter of the past.
Chapter 10. A Certain Point of View
By the time he finally arrived at History of Magic, Matou Shinji had already had a long and rather grueling day, with a double session of transfigurations under Minerva McGonagall behind him, followed by Potions under Severus Snape. And while he had no quarrels with or grudges against either of them, both were harsh taskmasters at the best of times, difficult to impress and easy to disappoint.
They tended to be even harsher when the class was rather distracted from the material – as they were today, given one of the announcements made at breakfast. Apparently, in light of what had happened to Weasley Twins, the Headmaster and the Heads of the four Houses had approved the formation of reserve Quidditch teams, so that in the event of illness or injury, the season could continue without teams being forced to forfeit.
After that, it would have taken a miracle to get the students back on task, which explained McGonagall's frustration while her class was reviewing – and failing at – material they had already been covered last year. And while Shinji would never admit it to anyone else, he was rather thankful that everyone else's failures covered for his own failings – though his stemmed not from a case of over-enthusiasm for Quidditch as much as missing half of the second term due to severe injuries.
While he'd managed to mostly claw his way back from his long absence in Potions and Charms due to intensive study and Hermione's absence, and any failings in Defense had been made up for by Tomas' and Hijiri's…brutal training sessions, Transfiguration remained a weak spot.
But then, he'd never found the topic easy to begin with, given how, despite surface level similarities to mysteries like alteration, reinforcement, and projection, Transfiguration was by far the most incompatible with the theories of Western magecraft. Most frighteningly, transfiguration didn't require an in-depth understanding of what wanted to change, and was more dependent on one's fluidity of mind and belief that their magic could change the world.
Granted, it was also considered the most scientific of the disciplines of Witchcraft – and therefore should be most like magecraft, with rules and limits (e.g. the larger an object was or the greater the disparity in size and shape between before and after states, the more difficult and prana-intensive the transfiguration would tend to be; conjured objects would eventually fade; food cannot be simply conjured, though existing food can be duplicated, and so forth), and supposed formulae describing the difficulty of any given transfiguration (though when one of the variables in all of their equations was defined as an "unknown variable", he questioned how accurate it was), but it was this very similarity that made it seem so odd.
As often was the case, mixing the familiar and the alien tended to emphasize the latter, resulting in something of an uncanny valley of knowledge for Matou Shinji.
Not that he was incompetent at the subject.
What spells he had practiced – like changing mice or other small living beings into boxes or other simple objects – came easily enough, especially when the transformation resulted in a reduction of overall complexity. The only case where the reverse came easily to him was when he was untransfiguring what had already been transfigured, such as when he transfigured snuffboxes or the like back into mice, as he was simply returning things to the pattern they had before.
…McGonagall had apparently found this impressive, though Shinji didn't understand why this was so. Things – especially living things - tended to want to remain in or return to their original form, after all. That much was only natural, so he didn't see why Hermione thought it was such a big deal, given that she herself, in learning the Switching Spell in first year or transforming any random object into a bird through the use of Avifors, was doing something he found far more difficult to wrap his head around.
He only reasoned that she didn't know that such things were supposed to be impossible, and so was able to do them with little fuss, which is why she did better than those who grew up with experience in any form of thaumaturgy.
The material being reviewed in Potions was rather less troublesome, as Hermione – and the Book of Potions - had helped him with the Wideye Potion last year, though it still meant suffering the foul mood of Severus Snape, a man who did not tolerate imperfection in his students' work – and spared no effort in letting them know exactly what he thought of their sloppiness and how easily distracted they were.
Unfortunately for the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, the Potion Master's mood was even fouler and blacker than usual, given that in his morning class, with second-year Gryffindor and Slytherin students, a certain Quidditch-obsessed individual had apparently been distracted to check his ingredients properly, leading to a cauldron explosion that had left the unfortunate student with severe burns and needing emergency treatment.
In the wake of that event, Snape had snarled that perhaps he should dose each and every one of his students with both Wideye (to keep them from falling asleep) and Wit-Sharpening potions before class to make sure their feeble little minds would not snap under the strain of following simple instructions.
His irritation had only been mildly assuaged by the basic competence of his NEWT class at brewing an antidote for common poisons, though he still bemoaned how none of them exhibited true brilliance, as they were content to simply follow the instructions and lacked a certain…imagination. But then, most students lacked an appreciation for his subtle science.
Even most Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, as it turned out, given that while they had turned in acceptable Wideye potions, none were as flawless as he could create – though the two made by Matou Shinji and Hermione Granger came close.
That, Snape thought, bore some watching, because if the Matou boy had missed so much class and yet performed adequately, he might have some of the late Sokaris girl's potential. Or possibly, Granger – who had miraculously refrained from volunteering unwanted answers or corrections, and had used some unorthodox techniques – might serve as a potential recruit for the Potions Club.
Only time would tell, though one thing was certain – he'd not accept any glory seeking Quidditch players for the club, even if that player happened to be his godson. There were certain standards that needed to be met, after all, and even Potter knew better than to waste his time on Quidditch like his father.
But returning to the present, the Ravenclaws had just walked into the new History of Magic Classroom – only to stop cold at the display of opulence and ostentation there. It was a grand chamber, with granite floors polished mirror smooth, crystal chandeliers glittering in the light, one wall taken up with floor length windows that offered a commanding view of the grounds below, tapestries on another that depicted notable scenes from Wizarding History – the birth of Merlin, the discovery of the Philosopher's Stone, the signing of the Statute of Secrecy, the War against Voldemort and more, and a third decorated with old editions of the Daily Prophet that had been kept in mint-condition, framed and preserved for posterity.
Their headlines were notable of course, with some including:
'New Zealand declares Independence; Maori King accuses British Minister of attempted Genocide!'
'Dumbledore defeats Grindelwald; Europe Finally at Peace'
'Death at Hogwarts; Has the Chamber been Opened?'
'Boy-Who-Lived Survives Killing Curse; YOU-KNOW-WHO's Reign of Terror Is Over!'
'We Assert Our Inalienable Right to Party!'
'Quirinus Quirrell, Stone Cutter Society Awarded Order of Merlin; Boy-Who-Lived Immune to Killing Curse!'
And flanking the door were two statues: that of the First Headmaster of Hogwarts and that of the famous alchemist von Hohenheim, whose research had apparently been instrumental in allowing Flamel to create the Philosopher's Stone, though neither of them were recognized by the students filing into the Chamber, their names forgotten in the mists of memory and time.
In fact, the configuration of the room itself wasn't one they recognized, given how it was radically different from the humble setup that Professor Binns had preferred, though at least the desks were the same. Not knowing what else to do, they filed in, took their seats, and waited.
They didn't wait long, as with the chiming of the bell indicating the start of classes, a golden phonograph on the teacher's desk began to play, filling the room with the powerful strains of Verdi's Requiem, Dies Irae.
After about 40 seconds of this, the music reached a crescendo, with Gilderoy Lockhart, dressed in glittering golden robes, appearing in a cloud of smoke with a boom like a cannon's roar. With a dramatic flourish, he silenced the phonograph and looked out at the stunned room with a dazzling smile.
"Greetings," the man intoned, his gaze meeting that of each of his students in turn. "I am Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and I am appalled at the ignorance I have seen here at Hogwarts. Why, under my predecessor, Cuthbert Binns, the class known as History of Magic has become the laughingstock of Hogwarts - no, all Europe. For over a century, this class has gained a reputation for being nothing more than a convenient place to nap, with the assignments and tests being exactly the same from year to year, heedless of the passing of time, and notes handed down from class to class - for over a century.
He paused for a moment to let his point sink in.
"No more, I say. And no further. For I tell you this, that history is not something that can – or should – be forgotten lightly, for to forget the knowledge of the past is to forget who we are as wizards and witches. Law, politics, the history of magic itself – we as a society are defined by our past, and those who do not learn its lessons are doomed to repeat their predecessors' mistakes."
His air was almost noble as he made this declaration, his eyes cold, his expression severe.
"Understanding history, you see, requires more than just a collection of facts, more than knowing what happened. It means knowing how and why. For history is like a collection of stories. But not the simple tales of Beedle the Bard, where good always triumphs and evils never wins. Real stories. The tales of people like you and I, who may one day become history ourselves."
Lockhart then gestured to the recent article on the Stone Cutters.
"Why, one of you already has – becoming, along with the Boy-Who-Lived, the youngest person to ever be inducted into the Order of Merlin," he said, nodding to the boy with a short-lived smile of recognition. "But the papers do not tell the whole story. They offer cold, impersonal fact, in the wake of the events which become history, not a portrait into the minds and lives of those who lived through those events. And more, much is often hidden from you, by those who seek some advantage. Conspiracy, treachery, devious plots – oh yes, history is full of these. But where history is full of lies, I tell you the truth, so that the truth may set you free."
He smirked at that, looking around the classroom to see if any would challenge him.
Surprisingly, a hand went up – that of Hermione Granger.
"What you say makes sense, Professor Lockhart," the brunette noted, having nodded to his points. "But why have you assigned us your autobiography as part of the required class materials?"
"Ah, but that is simple, Miss Granger," he replied in smooth, silken tones. "Frankly, I believe that to understand the flow of a story, you must understand the nature of the storyteller as well as the characters within. Thus, as I am your new history teacher, I think it would benefit you to know who I am and what it is that I believe, making clear any biases or interests I may have. It is those who do not disclose their history – who are afraid of doing so – that you should beware."
His eyes flicked for a moment towards the tower holding the Headmaster's office, something that Shinji startled at noticing. What did Lockhart know, Shinji wondered? What secrets did this new professor have?
Another hand went up, with this person asking him what he intended to teach.
"That is simple – I intend to show you how history unfolded the way it did, to allow you to understand why decisions were made, how we came the point we are at today, and what it means to us. In terms of content, there will be lectures, but there will also be field trips to historically important areas such as Hogsmeade, the first – and only – wizarding village, the site of several goblin rebellions and other events. There will be reenactments of some of the most frightening battles our world has ever known – epic duels, clashes between armies, fights against Dark Creatures. And most of all, there will be practical demonstrations and exercises to let you experience some of history's struggles for yourself. Specifically, the rise of the International Confederation of Wizards, and how Magical Nations formed their systems of government." Lockhart smiled, his teeth gleaming pure white in an almost predatory fashion. "For that purpose, if I may have a volunteer…?"
No one raised their hand at first, as most didn't want to volunteer when they didn't know what they would be asked to do. Historically, that was usually a recipe for embarrassment – or worse.
But Lockhart had expected this, and so turned his gaze upon Matou Shinji, a fellow member of the Order of Merlin, almost challenging him to step forward and prove his worth.
Shinji was somewhat wary of this, but knew that the longer he waited, the more of the class would notice Lockhart looking at him – and wondering why he didn't want to volunteer. And he knew then that he could not refuse without a blow to his reputation.
So, the boy from the east stood up.
"I'll volunteer, Professor," he said, looking the gold-garbed wizard in the eye.
"Come forward, Mr. Matou," Lockhart all but commanded, with Shinji doing so. "Turn to face the class."
Once more, Matou Shinji did as instructed, wondering what fate awaited him, what challenge he would have to face. Would it be something like one of the scenarios from the Book of Spells that Quirrell had used? A pop quiz to demonstrate his ignorance of British History (which to be fair, he would probably fail)? Or…
"I hereby appoint you, Matou Shinji, Consul of this class," the man continued, noticing many odd looks on the faces of those in the audience. "What this means is that I am granting him full disciplinary and administrative power over you, the second year of Ravenclaw House – in as far as my responsibilities run for this class, as well as unrestricted access to the contents of the Hogwarts library. What this means is that he is your immediate superior, not I. Should you wish to be excused from a homework assignment, or need to miss a class, it is he you must explain things to, for he will have the power to waive any out-of-class assignment, to excuse an absence, or to discipline you as he sees fit within the rules and regulations of Hogwarts."
He chuckled, a somewhat merry sound - though few were amused at all by this turn of events.
"In fact, should he choose, he could waive all homework for the rest of this year," Lockhart noted, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Though of course, in that case, your grades would be solely dependent on your end of term examinations, and should any of you fail this class or should he allow enough disruptive behavior to go unpunished as to annoy me – he will fail regardless of his personal scores, and he will learn just how far the mighty fall. Should you all pass, however, then for his trouble, I will award him with an Outstanding and give him a personal letter of recommendation."
Noting that several people were making a face at this, with mutterings beginning to be heard around the room as it seemed that Lockhart was essentially giving Shinji license to be a tyrant, issuing detentions at will, the man simply smiled beatifically.
"Good - I see you understand," the History Professor noted coolly. "For that is the reality of the first lesson I am having each class learn – the lesson of power, and how those with it choose to govern. And so that it is a true lesson, think not that your illustrious leader's position is entirely secure. Through force of arms or with a large enough group of dissenters, he can be overthrown at any time, for any reason – with his successor - or successors - gaining the rights and privileges he was formerly entitled to. However, should either side do anything...illegal, then and only then will I, acting as the Head of the Confederation, intervene. And should you refuse self-governance and appoint no leader, then there will be no exceptions to absences or homework at all."
He turned to Shinji, an odd expression on his face as he regarded the boy.
"You are part of the Order of Merlin, and have proven your valor in battle, but I wonder, how will you rule? Will you be a tyrant or a liberator? Will you rule alone or with others? The choice, Matou Shinji, is yours – for that is the way of power, and the responsibility of those given power – but how you are perceived and remembered may not be entirely up to you. Do you understand?"
"…yes, sir," Shinji answered, feeling very uncomfortable with this situation. He did indeed want power, but the manner in which it had been granted was…very disconcerting, and it made him wonder why he had been singled out. Was Lockhart…testing him in some way?
But the man's expression betrayed nothing.
"Good, then return to your seat," was all the gold-clad Professor intoned, his face becoming much more friendly thereafter. "For reference, I have appointed a Consul over every class, and am most interested in seeing what will transpire in this practical lesson. For now though, I hope you have done your summer reading, yes? No? Well, Then, since this may be of interest, let us review the events leading to the establishment of the International Statute of Secrecy, when the Wizarding World was officially separated from the world of Muggles…"
He wasn't what they expected. Any of them. But for now - he kept their attention.