AN:/ Not feeling the author's note today.

Batman Doesn't 'Do' Magic

Chapter Five

by: deadlydaisy8o8

Originally Uploaded: Friday, January 18, 2013, 7:29PM

When Batman wanted to move, he could really move. He was used to keeping pace with the likes of Flash and Superman. And while he did not have the raw speed that either of those two had, he knew how to travel so that he could move over terrain with maximum efficiency. As Batman sprinted through the rafters of the school, screams and shrieks made a trail behind him. Though by the time anyone had registered what exactly the enormous black shape was that was flying above them, it was already gone.

It had taken very little time before Batman was in the dungeons and navigating corners by running up onto the wall and pushing himself into the new direction, as not to loose momentum.

Batman skidded to a halt just before a large door where he knew he would be in for a not so pleasant two hours. He truthfully was only approximately five minutes late, but it would be enough to draw attention to himself, and he wanted to avoid making a spectacle. This would be inevitable, now that he had arrived to the class of a man that already disliked him. So Batman exhaled before he calmly opened the door and strode inside.

All of the activity ceased when Batman entered and he found himself on the receiving end of twenty two pairs of wide disbelieving eyes.

"I see you have finally decided grace us with your superior presence. For your insolence you will be gracing my presence again tonight in detention. I do not tolerate tardiness. You may take your seat and get to work. You will be partnered with Neville Longbottom. If we are lucky both of you will be walking out of here in tact, but that is up to your and his performance."

Batman did not rise to the jabs at his intelligence. He knew Snape was attempting to get him to retaliate, and he was not going to play such childish games with the man. He had no time for it. He didn't have time for the detention either and he had absolutely no plans to attend it. But the professor didn't need to know that just now.

Instead Batman kept his face blank as he looked to where he would be sitting. Beside his empty seat was a boy with a plump face that was completely read and shinny with sweat. As Batman walked towards the boy he noticeably shrunk on himself. He was dressed in Gryphindor colors, seemingly as a cosmic form of irony. Batman paid absolutely no mind to the absolutely terrified teenager as he sat down on the vacant stool, still as a statue, waiting. The professor turned to the class when he had reached the front of his desk once more a smirk apparent on his face.

"I will not be repeating my instructions, the copies are all in your books. You have the remainder of the period to complete the Befuddlement draught. Begin." There was the sound of loud whispering and the scrapping of stools as students went to get their supplies. Neville shifted in his chair for a moment, not even daring to look up at Batman as he waited for something to happen.

Batman assessed the situation quietly. He had had a brief look at his potions book before, but nothing comprehensive. He had come to the conclusion that potions were like a very primitive form of chemistry. The methodology of combining substances to create a reaction or a solution for a specific purpose was largely the same. It was the means and materials that were different. Logically, that meant that the project he had been assigned was comparable to a High School Freshman level chemistry lab. Batman would watch the experiment and treat it with care, just as he did whenever he was mixing even the most minor of chemicals, but realistically he did not need to worry so much about his own or anyone else's safety, at least to a life or death extent. This would allow him to leave the less dangerous stages of the project to the untrained teenager beside him without too much risk of injury.

Abruptly Batman came out of his frozen state as he turned to his temporary 'partner'. "You will retrieve the necessary supplies while I go over the text. When you get back you will receive further instruction." Neville nodded before he quickly got out of his chair and nearly ran to get away from Batman towards the supply closet.

Batman wasted no time in dragging the boy's book, which was open to the correct page, towards himself and skimming the material. His theory on Potion's and Chemistry's similarity was not disproven as he read over the procedure. He had absolutely no concern for his ability to complete this task. In all honesty, this was closer to cooking than it was to any scientific experiment he had ever conducted.

Batman had quickly made his way through the text and while he reviewed it again he spied a cluster of students at the back of the room. The boy he would be working with, Neville Longbottom, was surrounded by a group of three other students, A girl and two boys. All of them were seemingly trying to prevent him from having a panic attack. After the boy had been somewhat consoled and collected the supplies they would need the boy was coming back, waddling up the long isle slowly and blocking his other classmates. Giggles were floating from the Slytherin side of the room at his display, as he was slightly out of breath from carrying all of the supplies in the cast iron cauldron. Batman had no patience for this.

He stood up abruptly and in no more than six strides was plucking the cauldron full of supplies from the boys arms as if it were a box of tissues. The giggling stopped as the Slytherin's watched as he walked unencumbered by the load as the rest of them had, back to his seat. Neville stared for a moment before he was trotting behind like a lost puppy to catch up with Batman.

Batman set the cauldron down and started to unload what the boy had collected. All of the ingredients were there, though he would be inspecting them later. The scales, the stirrers, the, the pestle and mortar, and the knife also made it out of the cauldron. Before Batman continued he issued a new instruction to the boy beside him.

"Arrange the ingredients you have collected in the order they appear on the list in your text. Place the ingredients in a line far enough away from the edge of the workspace so that if they were to tip over, the jar would not immediately fall to the floor." Batman stared at the boy, waiting for him to comply. After a moment of squirming Neville again complied with the instruction without comment. Batman was pleased with the boy's obedience and hoped that it would continue for the rest of the period. Batman did not miss that most of the classroom, especially Snape, and the three teenagers that had spoken to Longbottom, were keeping curious eyes on him. He ignored the stares for now, as long as he was aware that they were there he would know if any of them started to come closer to interfere.

While Neville arranged the ingredients in a practical order, Batman went about inspecting the equipment. He found the balancing scales to need a slight adjusting. He wished he had something infinitely more exact, but balancing scales would have to do. Batman easily adjusted them to proper working condition. The mortar and pestle were ground and worn, not in the best of condition. But they were clean and useable. He set these to the side. The stirrers were slightly longer than was strictly necessary, from what the text had required, but the extra length would not hinder so they too got set to the side. Batman examined the cauldron the boy had fetched and sneered as he glimpsed the inside. It was absolutely filthy. A quick glance to the back of the room and Batman saw that there were none left to replace the one in front of him.

As an experienced chemist, Batman refused to start even a basic level experiment without clean and properly functioning equipment. In the very back corner of the room he spied a sink of water with a rag and some soap. He did not know the quality of the soap, but it was a safe assumption that it was for the specific use of cauldron washing if it was in this room. Regardless he would make it a point to rinse thoroughly.

Before Batman went to wash the cauldron he inspected the knife. He picked it up and grimaced at the poorly kept blade. It was heavily stained. He did not have to run its edge against his cheek to know that it was uneven. Glancing to the back of the room once more, he saw that there were no more knives in the block, and he would have no other options if he did not approve of this one, other than to use his own. Batman very much wanted to keep his knives clean and uncontaminated and would only use them if the knife he was supplied was completely unusable. Batman grimaced but supposed that if it were sharp enough he would work with it. Batman turned to Neville who was finishing up with the jars.

"Where is a spare parchment." Neville had been concentrated on the simple task, wanting to get it right and not be yelled at by this Batman. He started for a moment before he reached down and nearly dumped everything out of his bag to get to one half sheet he had at the bottom. Batman took the paper with a grunt. Not even bothering to turn away as he slashed the knife in his hand through the air. The knife clipped the edge of the page but did not cut, the force of his swipe only ripped the page in two. Neville flinched back at the action, not knowing what was going on. Batman snarled at the results. It seems as if would be using his own knives after all.

Paying no attention to Neville, or a majority of the class that were stopping to watch him after his sudden violence, Batman placed the knife back into the cauldron and picked it up to carry to the back of the classroom. Glancing to the boy and seeing that he was nearly done arranging the jars he issued a new instruction.

"Start getting the correct measurements of the ingredients we will need, and keep them aligned in the order you have placed the jars. Keep the ingredients immediately away from your eyes, mouth, and nose as you handle them. Do not touch your face after you have handled raw ingredients without thoroughly washing your hands first. When you have finished with this task, put the jars back where you found them. Your amounts should be exact and thorough. Select only the best from the jar, and pick out any contamination or lower quality particles. I will be double checking to see if you have followed my instructions."

Without waiting for a reply Batman easily picked up the cauldron and strode quickly to the back of the room. As he walked over to the sink he picked the knife out of the cauldron and threw it across the room so that it landed in a spot on the knife block. There were several startled screams and shocked 'bloody hell!' at his action.

"I do not tolerate knives being hurled across this classroom!" Batman did not turn to face the professor, instead pouring soap into the cauldron. Aware that Snape was moving down the isle to confront him, but making no visible reaction to it. The Professor was an unusually quick temper, but then, Batman knew he tended to have that affect on people. He spoke in an emotionless monotone as he responded to the agitated professor

"What I threw hardly qualified as a knife; dirty, flimsy, blunt, and unbalanced. I sincerely hope that not all of the knives you have your students use are of such disgraceful quality. Regardless I was unaware you required them not to become airborne. My apologies, you will not see it happen again."

Batman was aware of the ever so slight change in the sound of the professor's last three footfalls before he came to a stop just outside of Batman's personal space. They had gotten heavier, quicker, and more forceful. Batman dipped the cauldron into the pool of water sideways, allowing it to fill instead of forcing it to the bottom, displacing all of the water, and overflowing the sink. Still his face was blank, completely unconcerned with the furious Professor who had just come to a stop behind him. Only the Slytherin's in the room were aware that Batman had just phrased his apology to allow him to throw knives as long as the professor wasn't looking. When it became apparent that Batman had absolutely no intention of turning around to face him, Snape sneered out his demands.

"Cease this childlike behavior at once and face me when I am speaking to you!" Batman did not turn around, but continued to diligently wash the cauldron, raising an eyebrow under his mask when the resulting lather seemed to change color in regular intervals. He choose not dignify Snape's commands with any sort of response, verbal or otherwise. The man was truly on the brink of loosing his temper. Batman was not at all impressed, or intimidated. This man had very little control, it seemed. Batman did not feel it was imperative he participate as this man lashed out at him. So he remained merely aware of the potential attacker behind him as he scrubbed the bottom of the cauldron in regular circular motions and worked his way up the walls.

Words were snapping out of Snape's mouth when it became apparent that Batman had absolutely no intention of deviating from his task. "I am your superior in this classroom and you will afford me all manners of respect when you are within my presence. Now turn around so that I might be able to properly discipline you to my satisfaction for your uncivilized and petulant behavior." Snape was seething, his arms had untucked themselves from their position folded tightly against his chest, and had disappeared within his cloak, his right hand hovering over his wand.

Batman noted the change in posture of the man behind him, but did not react to it. He was not going to accept this man's declaration of superiority over him without objection, however. Batman felt the bottom of the sink and pulled the plug on the water while he reached to turn on the tap to rinse the soap off of the cauldron as he responded. A barely noticeable edge present in his voice.

"My respect is earned, never given. You hold no power over me. I need nothing from you. Not even your knowledge of this primitive skill is anything significant to me. Neither is this tactic of control through fear going to work. You may gnash your teeth and cut ribbons with you tounge, but I know there is nothing to fear of a man who is so weak and insecure that he feels the need to demand respect from a man he does not respect himself."

Snape was done with this. His lip drawn up in a sneer he drew his wand from his robe pocket with the intention of vanishing the water in the sink, forcing Batman to turn around.

He never got that far, because as soon as Snape's hand was extended Batman's own hand snapped backward, ripped the wand right from Snape's hand, and slapped it down on the counter in front of him. The wood of the wand making a sharp 'snap'. The room was so silent that it might have been possible to hear the heartbeat of a ghost. Bruce just continued to finish rinsing the cauldron, not at all concerned with what had just happened.

"You may have your wand back when I move away from the sink. I do not appreciate having it pointed at me with my back turned." Snape took two steps forward, intending to reach to the counter for his wand.

"How dare you-" Snape collided with an extended arm that had snapped up to prevent him leaning forward and retrieving his wand. Snape, furious, turned his head to speak to Batman only to meet the white pitiless eyes, which against the black of his mask and in the poorly lit room, almost seemed to be glowing. Batman stared at the Professor for a moment before he spoke.

"Do I need to defend myself Professor Snape?" Snape glared at the white eyes of the mask. He drew his lips up in a snarl and attempted to project his every loathing, but it all had no effect. Batman merely stared calmly back, unconcerned with the anger rolling off of the teacher in waves. His face was completely blank as he waited for the professor to make a decision. The moment stretched on for a full minute. Snape was stubborn, Batman would give him that. He had not wavered from Batman's blank white eyes and had not twitched a muscle, neither moving forward or backward. It seemed that the man's goal was to outlast Batman and force him to make the next move, to attack him so that he would look the victim.

Batman would not be forced into this corner, and he did not fancy playing the waiting game. Instead Batman twisted his extended arm ever so slightly, pushing the blades of his gauntlets into the professor's stomach. The professor could feel the points of the blades, even through his robes, and instinctively shifted away, even if it was so little a movement that none but Batman and Snape could see.

Snape's sneer increased but he made no move to push himself back against the lethally sharp points. Batman held the position for a moment, and when Snape still did not make a move forward, he dropped his arm and finished washing the cauldron.

The class watched with mouths open as Batman finished washing his cauldron as if nothing had just happened, and Snape made no move to attack, and no move to retreat, but just stood there, as if he had been frozen to the spot. Severus Snape had let Batman take his wand, and wasn't doing anything about it.

Batman really did not care that the rest of the class was staring at him, but he did care that after this extended silence the rate of hissing and spitting of the cauldrons around the room had escalated. So as Batman pulled a towel from a rack overhead he spoke in a loud enough voice to carry easily.

"The rest of you have potions to tend to. I think we'd both prefer they didn't spontaneously combust." There was a beat and then there were hurried movements as cauldrons were taken off of fires to be allowed to cool, or rapidly stirred to calm them down. The panicked exclamations of students as some of their potions didn't calm down were starting to become evident. In the momentary distraction Batman picked up the cauldron and walked away from counter. Snape immediately went forward and retrieved his wand but he did not turn to Batman. Instead he rushed around the room to solve the more immediate problem; rapidly vanishing anything that looked even remotely like it was going to explode.

Batman rolled his eyes beneath his mask as he approached the desk he had been working at. Longbottom was still staring at him, disbelief, fear, and hero worship practically radiating from his face. Batman looked down to the boy, hoping direct eye contact would snap him out of it. It was after a solid ten seconds without so much as a twitch that Batman set down the cauldron and spoke.

"You have not completed the task I assigned you." This was an understatement, Neville had only gotten as far as opening the first jar. There was a flash of panic on the boys face and then fear so intense the boy looked like he was about to cry. Batman inwardly winced at the thought of having to deal with a blubbering teenage boy that wasn't one of his sons. He could do it, but he didn't like to.

"Had we been in the more dangerous steps of this process that would be unacceptable. However we are merely in the preparation stages. There is no harm from this besides the waste of time. We will both measure ingredients." Neville seemed to only be on the verge of hyperventilation now, and not bawling his eyes out. Batman grunted as he moved to start at the opposite end of the line of ingredients. Neville flushed before he went back to his end of the jars.

Neville knocked a jar down but Batman caught it before it hit the floor. It's distance from the edge giving him enough time to put down what he was working on before his hand snapped out to catch it. Neville, along with the rest of the room stared at Batman, waiting for his retaliation to Neville clumsiness, but he gave none. After nothing happened everyone slowly went back to their work, including Neville, who was exceedingly more careful about where his elbows were.

When all of the ingredients were out Batman looked over the piles Neville had selected before he moved back. "Carry these jars back to the storage closet and I will have the ingredients ready to be prepared when you get back." Neville nodded and picked up all the jars, making sure he had a hold on all of them before he moved to the back of the room. Nobody dared to trip him.

When Neville got back there were a line of dead slugs on the table, ready to be sliced up into five centimeter strips. Batman stared at the boy for a moment. As of now, he had let the boy do nothing significant. It did not take much inference to come to the conclusion that this boy had no skill in this subject. He was clearly terrified of the Professor, and his nerves affected his ability to do well.

And while the boy was fairing well now, having Batman give him simple specific tasks, this would not be the case when Batman was gone. He would be terrified once again, and most likely be a very real danger to himself and others.

Batman decided at that moment that he was going to teach this boy to fish.

"What is your experience with knives." Batman asked it as a demand more than a question. Neville looked up at Batman and floundered with himself for a moment before he realized he had been asked a question that would require a verbal response.

"I-I don't know sir." Batman looked at the boy impatiently for a moment. He had a hunch he was going to starting from the ground up. But he wanted to be sure.

"Have you ever been taught how to use a knife; for cooking, construction, survival, or defense. Do you have any experience with sharp edges of any kind, swords, daggers, pocket knives, saws, kitchen knives, or razors."

It was at this point that Batman noticed that the activity behind and in front of him had stilled, and the students were angled slightly towards his voice. Batman noted this and made sure to speak in a voice that would carry and to describe what he was doing as he did it. Neville would not be the only one learning something today.

"M-my gran let me help in the kitchen once but she wouldn't let me touch anything sharp. My Uncle tried to teach me fencing when I was little, but we only ever used wooden swords, and he stopped after I kept getting splinters." Batman grunted. From the ground up then. Batman swiped his hand over the outside of his left thigh and a gleaming obsidian colored combat knife was spinning rapidly in the air in tight controlled circles. It landed land exactly in Batman's hand as if he had commanded it to and it hadn't dared disobey. Neville flinched back violently at the action but Batman ignored it completely as he unclenched the handle and held the knife flat in his palm.

"Due to the poor quality of the knives we were provided, we will be using my own. This blade is sharp and strong enough to cut off an arm in a single swipe. It will cut through up to an eighth an inch of steel, easily through bone. You will follow my instructions exactly when you handle this knife. This is not a toy, or a joke. You show any sign of deviating from my instruction, and you will loose this privilege swiftly and without warning."

Batman stared at the pale and clammy teen beside him. He was not worried about the teen hurting himself. He would be able to stop the boy quickly if he were about to do anything. He just did not desire to have to do any stopping in the first place. He watched the boy as he wiped his sweaty palms on his legs and nodded. Batman grunted and laid the knife down on the table before them.

"When you pick up the blade you will grip the steel above the handle between your thumb and forefinger, resting the handle in your palm and grabbing it with the remainder of your fingers. Grabbing the blade itself allows for greater control. Watch." Batman made a show of picking up the knife and holding it in his hand as he had described. He turned his hand over for the boy to see before he laid the knife back down.

"Pick up the knife." Neville looked nervously between the black combat knife and Batman, whose face was completely blank as he waited for the boy to comply with his instruction. Neville wiped his hands on his robes again before he reached tentatively towards the knife. As his hand got closer he looked rapidly back and forth between Batman and the knife. Batman did nothing, keeping as still as a statue while he waited for the boy to pick up the knife.

When the boy's fingers brushed the blade he winced, as if expecting a blow or a shout, but none came. Looking up to Batman one last time, and still seeing him standing there like a block of stone, Neville gulped and gently picked up the blade. Making great pains to do it exactly like Batman had.

Neville's hand was shaking the knife visibly. Batman could see the condensation around the boy's fingers as his palms were so sweaty that they were slicking the knife. The boy had obviously expected it to be lighter, and grappled with how to properly articulate the unexpected heft.

Batman saw the knife start to slip out of the boy's sweaty fingers and he acted. Like a phantom his hand snapped out to cover the smaller one in a strong and steady grip. The boy stopped shaking near instantly, paralyzed with shock and fear.

"Breathe." At the command Neville sucked in air, not realizing he had been holding his breath. Batman waited for the boy to stop breathing so heavily. He could feel the boy tremble against him when he started to realize who was holding his hand over a knife and had yet to let go. Batman squeezed the boy's hand lightly causing him to shoot his gaze straight up to Batman's. Once Batman had Neville's eyes, he didn't let go. Batman wasn't using magic of any kind, but Neville was convinced that he must be because he could not look away, not even if he wanted to. Batman captivated the boy so much that Batman was the only thing in Neville's line of vision. The rest of the world fell away because Batman held all of Neville's attention.

When Batman was sure the boy was locked with him, he allowed his breathing to become visible. The boy unwittingly followed his lead and his breaths became much slower and quieter. Batman stood like that waiting for the boy to match him without hitches or gasps. When the boy finally settled down, still locked with his eyes, he spoke.

"Trust me."

Neville slowly nodded his head twice; his eyes never leaving Batman's. Batman gave a small slow nod in acknowledgement. He then released his hold on the boy's hand, but the boy did not shake. Batman then turned away, backing up a step to allow Neville space in front of him to stand in front of the slugs still lined up on the table. Neville didn't need to be told. He stepped in the spot Batman had just vacated.

"When you hold ingredients to be cut, you will club your fingers, as if you were holding a small ball. This will cause the flat of the blade to rest against your knuckles. It is nearly impossible to cut yourself this way." Neville obeyed the instruction without comment.

The entire potion was made in this manner. Batman stood behind Neville and gave him detailed and simple instructions for every step of the potion. Neville never shook once. Never looked back once. He focused completely on the deep voice behind him and did everything it said.

Snape was forced to give them and several others a passing grade when every potion within earshot of Batman's voice was perfect.

After they were dismissed Batman did not hesistate to walk out of the classroom. Several of the students rushed out to find him, but when they stepped into the hallway after him he was gone.

Neville was still in a trance as he was walking down the hallway, Hermione noticed and walked quickly, trailed by Harry and Ron, to catch up with him.

"Neville. Neville wait up." Neville suddenly seemed to stutter and snap out of it. As the golden trio leveld off next to him. Hermione placed a concerned hand on his shoulder.

"Neville are you alright?" Neville looked to Harry Ron and Hermione as if he were daydreaming and didn't know what they were talking about before he blinked several times and rubbed his eyes.

"Y-yeah. I'm fine. I feel really good, actually." Neville furrowed his eyebrows but kept his mouth firmly closed as he denied himself a yawn. He was relaxed, more than anything. It was like there was absolutely no anxiety, nothing to worry about. Hermione looked at Neville suspiciously while Ron and Harry shared a look behind her back.

"Neville, I think that man might have done something to you. We should go to the infirmary to make sure you're alright." Neville stepped back when Hermione went to grab his upper arm and guide him to the infirmary. A frown appeared on his face.

"Nothings wrong with me Hermione. I'm fine." Ron spoke up when he saw that Hermione wasn't getting anywhere.

"No offense mate, but there is no way you could have made a perfect potion, and the fact that you are ready to fall asleep after Snape's class is just creepy. He could have cast the imperus on you." Now Neville frowned for real.

"You guys think that just because I made a potion that there must be something wrong? I guess now I know who has any real confidence in me." Harry stepped forward, not liking where this was going.

"Neville its not like that. Its just that-"

"I get it Harry. You think that Batman did something to me and that's why I was able to make a potion without blowing something up. Because there is no way Neville Longbottom could even be capable of doing anything right. Well guess what, he didn't do anything but give me instructions. I did it all the work on my own. I can make a potion, just as good as you Harry. I don't automatically screw up you know. It's okay for me to get something right once and a while." Neville didn't wait for a response and just turned, continuing to walk down the hall. They waited until Neville had rounded the corner before they started to talk.

"What's gotten into him?" Ron huffed, a little affronted that they had just been told off by Neville Longbottom of all people.

"It's obvious that Batman did something to him. Maybe it wasn't a spell, but I still don't like it." Hermione looked worriedly down the hall. Harry looked between the two of them seriously as they started to walk down the hall themselves.

"But what could Batman possibly have to gain from helping Neville with potions? Maybe he isn't all bad." Hermione looked doubtful while Ron looked thoughtful.

"Well he did completely humiliate Snape."

"Ron!" Hermione gave Ron a scolding look.

"Oh come on Hermione, even you have to admit that the slimy git got what was coming to him." Hermione huffed

"Professor Snape is a teacher Ron! And Batman took his wand, right out of his hand!" Ron got an almost dreamy look in his eye.

"I know, wasn't it brilliant! The look on Snape's face." Hermione was about to open her mouth and give Ron a what-for but Harry stepped in before anything could be said.

"Listen guys. It's clear that this Batman is dangerous. But we don't know what he's about. Yes he stole Snape's wand, but he also helped Neville with his potion when it was clear he didn't really care about the potion himself. We need something more if we're going to decide anything. In the mean time we shouldn't' get too worked up. Dumbledore let him in the castle, didn't he?" Hermione and Ron both nodded reluctantly at Harry's logic. It was silent for a moment before Hermione spoke up again.

"Well I still don't trust him. He could be working with Sirius Black for all we know." Harry sounded very tired as he responded.

"Yes, everyone is out to murder me and I need to be careful. I know Hermione. That doesn't change the fact that we couldn't do anything, even if we wanted to. He hasn't done anything bad yet. All we can do is watch ourselves and each other. Okay?" Hermione huffed lightly, but relented at the logic.

A pair of calculating white eyes watched the trio from the shadows as he allowed his targets to move out of range. The eyes considered this new development before they slowly allowed themselves to be completely swallowed in darkness.