A/N: Today I realize that I've been using the American spelling of defence this whole time. This chapter is the only one that had the proper spelling in my entire file. So I'll be spending the next while fixing THAT mistake! Ha!

Thursday May 18th, 1990

Contrary to its name, Defence Against the Dark Arts is easily the second biggest snooze fest at Hogwarts. Don't get it wrong, History with Binns is the clear winner on that topic. Yet Professor Phasian, with his bumbling, faux-posh manner, and overall absentmindedness, had the unique ability to make the class dull. To the point where he could take a lesson like today about gytrash -a.k.a badass sounding, vicious ghost-wolves- and leave half the class bored and mindlessly doodling as he droned on.

Melissa lamented the sad state of the lesson. Her notes were already full of read-ahead notes from the textbook. The margins, which had been meant for extra tidbits from the Pheasant, ended up becoming the nest for couplets and improvised scores. It was a shame, really. It would be so easy to change things and make the class interesting. All that was needed was for wizards of the clever sort to take a gander at the school policy and make some minor adjustments. Unfortunately for Melissa and the rest of the student body, that wasn't the reality of things. So she was stuck here, half-listening to repeated lessons while scribbling jazz to an invisible beat.

At one point in the lecture, Phasian gestured with his hands and caused some of his notes to fly out of his hand. Cursing under his breath, the large man bent down to retrieve the notes. Beside her, Domonkos slid over a scrap of parchment. Melissa snuck the scrap on top of her notes and flipped it around. On the sheet was a caricature of the professor's plump face hoisted onto the body of a fat bird. Overtop of it was a beautifully cursive title.

Defence Against the Dark Pheasant

Melissa smirked as she held back a snicker. The expression on the perplexed bird was priceless, doubly so when glancing at the muse himself scrambling to adjust his notes.

As the professor jibbered on about the subject at hand, Melissa busied herself over the parchment. Puzzling over a perfect addition to the page. With enough time she managed to scratch out a byline.

Prophet e'Posé!

Pitiable Professor Perplexes over Polyjuice-Produced Plumage

Satisfied with her work, she slid the parchment back over to Domonkos. Once the coast was clear he turned the page over and read over the byline. Immediately he pushed his fist over his mouth, body shaking as he tried to hold in his laughter. Unfortunately, wisps of sound escaped from his lips, catching the Professor's attention.

"Do you find gytrash attacks amusing, Mister Soros?" Professor Phasian snipped at the source of quiet commotion.

Domonkos quickly coughed out his laugh and attempted to tether it down. "Ahem, no professor. My apologies, professor."

The professor narrowed his eyes and walked over to their desk. "Perhaps there's something you would like to share with the rest of the class, hmm?" He leered over the table, eye catching the scrap of paper and snatched it before either child could move. Professor Phasian's eyes roamed over the page, his face growing red with each passing moment.

"Care to explain yourselves?" He growled out. The two first-years gulped, neither daring to make a sound. The professor huffed over their silence, a grim sneer transformed his plump face. "I thought as much. That's 10 points from Slytherin, to each of you! Detention, as well! Maybe I'll also toss you over to the gytrash in the Forbidden Forest and see what happens to students who don't pay attention." He gruffed, then walked towards the front of the class.

Beside her, Domonkos gulped and shot her a frightened look. Silently asking just how serious the professor was. "Don't worry, just shine a light and we'll be dandy." Melissa muttered under her breath.

"What was that!" The professor turned back on her with a snap.

Melissa reeled, but some part of her held firm. Getting in trouble was one thing. She could understand that. But out-right threatening to toss them to the (ghost) wolves wasn't something she wanted to let slide.

"A simple lumos or lighting a fire can scare away a gytrash, or kill them if the light is too close and bright. ...I can read a textbook."

In hindsight, that last part was probably unnecessary.

The man blustered in outrage. "Oh, so you believe you can get by in this class on textbooks alone?"

"That's what we've been doing the past few months." She explained rather harshly. "It's the end of the year and you've barely covered most things in the textbook! Frankly we've learned how to make do without you."

Students around her either looked at her with alarm, or fought to make themselves appear as small and unseen as possible. Even then, they knew she was right. Now, if only the witch could learn to keep her mouth shut.

"How splendid to hear that." The venomous pigeon droled. "Then I'll only take an additional five points from Slytherin. Meanwhile, you can also spend detention writing up lesson plans while I go on with real curse-breaking work and put my talents to use."

Melissa snorted at that. "Talent. If you're so talented, prove it with, say, breaking the Defence class jinx."

"I beg your pardon?" The professor's face grew darker at the challenge. The rest of the class looked at her like she was mad, but she pressed forward with a sneer.

"I mean, it's a little ironic that a talented defence professor such as yourself can't remove a jinx for a classroom meant to teach defence against that sort of thing."

"Stupid girl! That jinx was created by You-Know-Who himself!"

"Right. And he's dead." She goaded. "Doesn't a jinx get weaker when the caster dies?"

"Heh, that shows what you know, you little brat! A jinx vanishes when… when…" Like a flick of a switch, Professor Phasian's blood-darkened face paled into an unhealthy white. His eyes flicked to Melissa's knowing smirk, then roamed about the classroom's perplexed faces.

"Um, professor?" One of the other students gently prodded.

"C-class dismissed." He muttered. The class remained in their seats, unsure of his seriousness or simply unable to hear him. "I SAID CLASS DISMISSED!" He shouted at once.

The students scrambled in their seats, thrusting quills and parchment into their bags and hastily made their way out of the classroom.

"What was that all about?" Sierra Bailey asked once they were out into the hallway.

"He was being an ass, so I spoke up. As for that last bit, not sure. Guess he got sick of me." Melissa lied with a shrug.

"Do you think we still have detention tonight?" Domonkos asked in concern.

"Might be best to wait until dinner. If the professor calms down, then we should go."

"If he doesn't?"

"Then, we pray for the best." The half-tease fell dead on arrival. More hopeful than anything that the mess she caused wouldn't get too far out of hand.

It was hard to judge whether or not to go to detention that night, as Professor Phasian was nowhere to be seen at the Great Hall come suppertime. Melissa and Domonkos ate in relative silence. Some other first year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs were casting worried glances at them and muttering over the empty seat at the staff table. Then there were… the gossipers.

"I hear Professor Phasian cancelled classes for the rest of the day!"

"I hear he's been taking points away like mad whenever a student walks in the classroom."

"You really messed up this time, Bennett."

"You should have seen his face! He was so angry he turned purple!"

"Bet Bennett or Soros put a hex on that parchment!"

As more rumours and gossip spread about the Great Hall, Melissa buried herself deeper into her seat. She was used to causing trouble, sure. Enough to rattle some teachers, it happens. Enough that a teacher would threaten to feed her to magical beasts in the Forbidden Forest? That was a new one. That, plus stirring up trouble about You-Know-Who? That was certainly one of the biggest gambles she's ever taken. One that she wasn't quite sure what the outcome would be. On occasion she and Domonkos would exchange glances, neither quite knowing their fate.

All this over a pheasant drawing.

"Bennett! Soros!" Said children jumped at the gravely voice of Argus Filch. "You'll be coming with me."

"Where to?" She inwardly flinched at her own slip. Silently begging that the answer wasn't 'The Forbidden Forest'.

Filch glared and gave a huff. "You'll see." He turned and walked away, knowing well that the children would follow.

They went out of the Great Hall and down several corridors before the silence was broken. "I don't think we are going to the Forbidden Forest." Domonkos speculated. "If we were, we would have left the castle by now. I think we are-"

"Quiet, you lot!" Filch growled before the guess could be given.

More silent minutes passed by. Eventually they came upon a large gargoyle.

"Cherry tart." Filch muttered under his breath; which, by magic, animated the gargoyle to leap aside, revealing a set of ascending stairs. Without prompting, Filch walked up the stairs, leaving the nervous students forced to follow up after him towards what Melissa now knew to be the Headmaster's office. At the top of the steps Filch rapped at the door, opening it at Dumbledore's call of permission. "Brought the troublemakers as instructed, Headmaster."

"Good, good." Dumbledore greeted him from his desk. At his side stood Professor Snape, scowling down at them with a look of loathing. Oh, they were positively screwed! "You may leave us, Argus." At his leave, Domonkos and Melissa waited with nervous apprehension. "Come now, don't be shy." The Headmaster beckoned.

They each came forward, risking only brief glances at Snape before they took their respective stools.

"Mister Soros, Miss Bennett, I am sure you are aware of the circumstances which led you to my office today." Melissa shifted in her seat, while Domonkos went rigid and rapt at the Headmaster's opening line. "What you are not aware of, however, and will not be announced until the next few days, is that Professor Phasian has left Hogwarts without notice, with the exception of a hastily written note of resignation left on his desk."

Wait, what? Melissa's eyes went wide at the news.

"What concerns me, more so than his sudden departure, is the contents of that note. It stated that you believe Voldemort is alive and would cause him great harm should he remain in his position."

"What?" Melissa squeaked. She twisted to look at Domonkos, his expression very much the same as hers, in a 'Is he mad?' sort of way.

Dumbledore hummed from his seat. "Perhaps it would be best if you each gave an account of what happened in class today?"

The students latched at that prompt. Domonkos dictated most of the account, carefully re-aligning Melissa's rambled interruptions, and ensuring a more polite reworking of what happened in the classroom was delivered to the attentive professors.

"So, you see, it was an honest misunderstanding, Headmaster Dumbledore." Domonkos reasoned at the end of the account.

"Right, I just meant it should be weak enough for someone like him to…" her voice trailed as Domonkos cast her a silent command to shut up. "...sorry. Just ignore that."

"The wisest decision you've made all day, Miss Bennett." Snape sneered.

"I see." Dumbledore placated, observing the two of them with gentle, no longer overly watchful eyes. "In the future, it would be best to keep such theories to yourself, Miss Bennett. In the meantime, I will work within my power to encourage Professor Phasian to return to his post. "

"Else we must procure a new defence professor. Again." The snide comment from Snape was edged with contempt.

"Unfortunately so, Severus." Dumbledore sighed.

"Um…"

All eyes were on Melissa again. 'Of all times to open your mouth, kid.' She silently chastised herself. Yet, this seemed like a perfect opportunity.

"Sorry, again. I know you said not to; but, is there really no way to get a better Defence Professor? I mean, he's the only professor, only living one, who isn't competent and doesn't come to class sometimes." Get to the point girl, where's your inner Slytherin?

"I'm afraid not." Dumbledore answered before anyone else could shut her up. "Voldemort was a powerful wizard, and his spell still holds strong, even after death. No professor has been able to hold the position longer than a year, lest something terrible happens to them."

"I know. It's just… couldn't the school just hire good professors on a single year limit? Like, have it in writing that they're not allowed to teach the course the following year?" The question was meant with silence, forcing Melissa to ramble on. "I mean, that's bound to work around the jinx, right? Nothing bad will happen to them if it's already guaranteed they can't come back. Then nobody would be too scared to take the position."

Dumbledore regarded her with a ponderous look, then leaned into his seat. "I must admit, I have not considered that as a possibility. Severus, you are familiar with the use of binding oaths." It was less a statement and more of a question. The two adults seemed to be having a conversation on looks alone.

"It is a possibility." He drawled out at last. "Though there is no way to know for certain if such an avenue would be successful."

"Indeed." Dumbledore then cast a look at the two students. "We can discuss this later. For now, the two of you are free to return to your House for the evening."

The two of them hopped off their seats, relieved at the dismissal, and walked briskly towards the door.

"Both of you have a week's detention with me for this fiasco!" Snape called back after them.

They both groaned in unison before heading out the door.

Sunday May 21st,1990

"You couldn't have waited until after he finished writing our exams before scaring him off?" Amy complained once they were in their dorm room, disgruntled at the news that Dumbledore finally announced that evening.

"Hey, I didn't think he was going to resign! I just wanted to knock him down a peg, is all." Melissa tried to assert as she flopped onto her bed.

"Please, you know defence professors don't make it through the year. You should have kept it to yourself."

"Hey! That's all the more reason to not be mad at me. He was going to leave anyway, right?"

"If you waited until detention, maybe a gytrash would've eaten him." Rusalka offered with a vicious smirk.

"Realistically," Melissa deadpanned, "he would have used us as meat shields, then gotten fired for getting two students killed."

"Hmm, suppose you're right." Rusalka shrugged.

Melissa crossed her arms in a fake pout. "Ouch, don't go crying over my made-up corpse, Ignatov."

"Alright, leave it be, girls." Jacqueline ordered. "We may not have a proper exam to worry over, but Professor Snape will not go easy on us for the next two weeks. Best we get some rest for tomorrow."

The other girls groaned or nodded in unison at the observation, and retreated to their beds for the evening.

Monday May 22nd, 1990

At breakfast the next morning the students of Hogwarts were still abuzz in the gossip of Professor Phasian's sudden departure. The preteens were wondering to themselves about the future of their defence classes. The young teenagers joked with each other by ranking their previous defence professors, both by ability and by dramatic exits from the post. The older students, particularly those with OWL and NEWT exams to worry about, were far less talkative. In fact, most took to glaring at the younger Slytherins as they ate their meal. Melissa tried her best to ignore the stares; but couldn't help but think how badly this mis-step could affect her long-term goals at Hogwarts.

As per schedule, the upper skies of the great hall became a flurry of wings as owls came in with the morning post.

"Morning, Hootini." Melissa greeted half-heartedly as her owl landed beside her plate. She offered the tawny owl a strip of bacon, which it happily munched on while she untied her post. She flipped through the items without much focus. A copy of the Prophet, an envelope with a letter from her mother and cutouts of news and magazine articles she thought her daughter would want to peruse for the week, and a letter and financial statement from Aunt Sophie. The last letter was a bit cryptic, which has become typical since this term started. That said, word combinations like "experiment" and "breakthrough" certainly sound promising. Though likely it won't be until she returns to the muggle side of life before she can learn much else about it.

Putting the letter aside, Melissa then moved on to read her mother's cut-outs. She finished the first article soon enough, but had only started the second when Amy commented loudly.

"Hey Dom, your mom wrote an article about Professor Phasian."

"Joy. Guess I'm not reading the Prophet today, then." Melissa mumbled.

"You're not mentioned, Bennett, if that concerns you." Garrick informed her. His eyes were focused on the bottom of the paper, contemplating the contents. "Mrs. Soros mostly wrote about a new hiring policy."

That comment perked her attention. "What new hiring policy?"

"On page three, midway down. Take a look."

Melissa grabbed at her copy of the Prophet and flipped to the page, barely reading the opening paragraph as she got into the meat of the story.

In a surprise change of tradition, Headmaster Dumbledore, Order of Merlin (first class), ...yadda, yadda, more titles… has announced a change in the hiring practice of new professors for Defence Against the Dark Arts. From the next school term and onward, all future professors are to sign a one-year contract of employment, with no possibility of re-applying after the contract has expired. "I believe it is in the best interest of the students and faculty." Dumbledore explained in his letter to the editor. "By having a term limit imposed for the position, we hope this will counterattack any negative expectations towards the position." It certainly does, indeed. After three decades of chaotic and, frankly, lackadaisical education in defence against the dark arts, we hope that this change will lead to better professors and less scandal in the future.

While the announcement comes with good news and hope for the future of young witches and wizards, there are many who are wondering why this sensible change is only now occurring, and was not considered earlier when the string of scandals and accidents first began…

"It sounds that they are listening to you, Melissa." Domonkos congratulated her with a knowing smile. Still caught up in her own reading, she wasn't able to try to quiet him until he already finished the remark. Unfortunately, it was too late, and eyes around them had landed on her and Domonkos.

"How so, Soros?" Jacqueline inquired.

"Nothi-"

"It was Melissa's suggestion to have a limit on professors." Domonkos explained.

"Is that true?" Garrick asked, sounding impressed with the idea.

Melissa looked around at her year-mates, biting her lip and a small blush creeped on her face. "I… might have pointed out that it could be a good loophole against the jinx?" She looked at the others, slightly pleading. "Look, it's not a big deal, I just-"

"Not a big deal?" Amy interrupted. "It's brilliant! Now we can have good professors instead of bumblers like Phasian!" She got out of her seat and gave Melissa a tight hug from behind. "Thank you! Thank you!"

"Amy!" She squeaked, half laughing, half hushed. "It's not a big deal! Come on, don't be so loud!"

"I'd disagree." Garrick offered an encouraging smile. "Changing the headmaster's mind on something this large is no simple thing. You deserve recognition for it."

"Or house points, at least." Rusalka added.

The rest of the first year Slytherins agreed with the sentiment. Some of the older students nearby started asking what the commotion was about, especially at the mention of house points, to which Rusalka smugly answered with what Domonkos had told them.

Much like an unwanted flame, word started to spread up the Slytherin table, and across to the other tables. It took almost the entire day, but soon everyone knew that a Slytherin student had been involved in the new change. Over the next few weeks, an uncomfortable amount of them were also aware that the change had come from the same student who caused Phasian's departure in the first place. The review ended up being a bit mixed, all things considered. Overall, no one could really decide how to feel about Slytherin by term's end.

A/N: So ends Year One of The Laughing Slytherin. See you next week as we enter literal summer of '21 and the literary summer of '92!