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Act III - Birth Of The Demon
Chapter 16: First Impressions
This was by far, one of the weirdest feelings in his entire existence, decided Harry as he looked at himself in the mirror. He was looking at the jet black professor robes, not very much different from his usual uniform except the utter lack of House stripes. His hair still looked just as unruly as it always did, though Fleur preferred to call it his 'after-shagged' hairstyle, not something he could really boast in front of students, half of whom were going to be older than him. Nothing in his countenance gave the impression of someone capable of teaching a class, and he wondered how he was going to face the most delicate challenge in his life ever.
Strong people do not hide their deficiencies. Sirius would say. They highlight them. Draw attention to your uniqueness, your originality. Instead of thinking how you are just a student, they'll be impressed at your ability to teach despite your young age.
Grand words, Harry agreed, but talk was cheap. In a few minutes, he was going to face his first students, who were, ironically enough, his own batchmates. And with the absolutely buffon-ish teaching plan he had come up with, he would be meeting all of them. At once.
He had faced many challenges in his life. A possessed professor, a freaking basilisk controlled by a shade of the most dangerous dark wizard alive. Hordes of dementors. Aforementioned dark wizard in the flesh after his resurrection, and of course, the plethora of creatures in the Triwizard tournament. Oh, and come to think of it, he probably should include a house full of doxies, a malevolent wraith and a freaking house-turned-murderhobo possessing an elf. It turned out that none of that helped face a bunch of judgemental students as their newest Defence Against The Dark Arts professor.
"Get your shit together, Potter," he told himself. "You can do this."
He looked to his side, missing Daphne already. His fiance had left in the early hours of the morning, after freshening up in his bathroom. Tweak β the Slytherin House elf, had brought in her robes, and she had left for her classes, but not without engaging him in a passionate snog.
For Luck.
If you don't feel at ease, Fleur had told him, think of the way you guided Daphne in the duelling practice.
As far as advice was concerned, that wasn't half-bad. Now only if he managed to get through this without Malfoy or his ilk screwing things up for him.
That ferret would no doubt go out of his way to make things miserable for him, and needlessly antagonise him in class. But wait, he was a professor, wasn't he? He could always take points or throw the useless bastard in detention. It would be nice to have him on the other side of the table for once just like β
Harry exhaled.
Just like Snape. After all these years of suffering the potion master's unfair treatment, was he really going to follow his footsteps?
No way in hell.
Play to your strengths, Harry. He told himself. He had already mentioned his suggestions about the way he wanted to schedule his DADA classes. The only thing that remained was to see how everyone else reacted to it.
"You can do this," he told himself. "Umbridge didn't even teach anyone, and she pretended like she was Morgana reincarnated. If nothing else, you won't be worse than her."
β¦Right?
He took another breath, and exhaled deeply.
"Come on," he told himself. "It's showtime."
That brought a smile to his face. It was what he always told himself before the start of every Quidditch match. Ignore the noise, focus on what he needed to do, and achieve his goal, while keeping an eye on everything important happening around him.
He turned around, walked to the door, and pushed it open, entering the classroom. Yes, the classroom was on the fifth floor while his private dormitory was on the third floor, but the school didn't exactly have a geometry, euclidean or otherwise. It had connections, not directions. Somehow, the Great-hall sized classroom fitted perfectly on the otherwise narrow fifth-floor, and just opening a door from his room was enough to lead him there.
Again, connections, not directions.
The room fell silent as his entrance, as he felt every single eye follow his every movement. He had, after much thought, decided to go with a classroom design that was similar yet completely opposite to Umbridge's own. That is to say, the room remained as large as the Great Hall, only he had done away with the professor's desk and chair, as well as the rows of desks and benches. The students stood along the walls, with Gryffindor and Slytherin on opposite sides, with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw mingling in the centre, while he entered from the fourth wall into the large, empty area in the middle.
Harry swallowed, suppressing the sudden claustrophobia gripping him. Walking into the middle of the room, surrounded by people on almost all sides was absolutely opposite to his usual choices, but it was exactly what he needed to do to prove his confidence.
He kept his hands clasped rigidly on his sides, and walked forward until he was standing in the middle of the room. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see concern on his fiance's face. Seeing the intense looks the crowd was giving him made him want to run back to his office, and call the entire thing off. The students, both those he was friendly with and not, were all giving him calculating looks, studying his presence, his gait, his clothing, his mannerisms β everything.
And yet, Harry realised, they weren't seeing him at all. They were studying the person that was standing before them β Professor Potter, who would be teaching them Defence Against The Dark Arts. That the professor also happened to be a fellow student was a coincidence at best, and they were all curious about how the new teacher would turn out.
They weren't watching him, merely the face he was putting for them. It was as if he wasn't there.
As if⦠he was hiding. In plain sight. Right in front of their eyes.
And suddenly, the tension began to retreat. He let out a long, calming breath, his anxiety flowing away. All those hours of training with Joshua and Sirius came to mind, and he adopted the persona that the two men had trained him for the Wizengamot.
And then he smiled.
"Good morning, everyone."
Several among the students greeted him back, while the rest chuckled in amusement. Deciding that he would not get anywhere in life by emulating Lockhart, or worse, Umbridge, he got down to business. With a flick of his wrist, his wand came spinning into his palm, and he held it loosely between his fingers with the hilt touching the flat of his palm. A deceptive gesture, for it'd take a simple flexing of his palm to hold the wand ahead like a sword and cast a spell before the opponent even had the chance to raise their own.
A shifter's hold, Sirius had called it.
Somehow, that cut off the chuckles.
He cleared his throat. "Okay, so like I said last night, Professor Dumbledore asked me to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, which is⦠well, rather ironic, given all you've been taught so far is to defend against minor pests, and first-hand encore at experiencing the unforgivables. A rather wide stretch, everything considered, but we'll try to make sure we get to catch up on things right on time before your OWLs."
When nobody said anything, he continued, doing his best not to look at Daphne. "Before I begin, you should know that I've proposed some changes to the class schedule. There are three rules you need to follow if you want to attend this class. I understand that some of you might wonder what a student is doing teaching this class, so Rule Number One, you're not doing anyone a favour by attending this class. If you don't like it, please walk out right away. But if you stay, you'll need to fall in line and learn what I'm trying to teach."
He glanced at Malfoy and Parkinson who sneered back.
"Or what, Potter?" sneered Malfoy.
There it was, the first obstruction.
"Or, as your Head of House likes to say, suffer my displeasure."
Harry smiled menacingly at him, as if daring him to speak. When he didn't, he composed his features and regarded the rest of the students.
"Rule Number Two. Madam Umbridge wasted two entire months teaching nothing, and this is your OWL year. So, the DADA classes will continue with all four Houses present, which will give you twice as much classroom time as double sessions β"
There were gasps among the students. Ron in particular, looked absolutely horrified. Hermione looked absolutely impressed.
" β An increased workload which I'll make up for by not assigning you any homework."
This time there was only one gasp. Harry didn't even need to look to tell it was Hermione.
"Yes," Harry chuckled at the pained expression on Hermione's face. "You heard me right. This class is about fighting the Dark Arts, not writing paragraphs on fighting. Every class will be a simulation of a real world fighting scenario, and that's what you're here to learn. Unfortunately Slinkhard's books won't be useful, so I suggest you acquire Extreme Incantations by Violetta Snitch."
"Harβ I mean Professor," said Hermione, raising her hand.
Harry cut down the snicker brutally as he answered "Yes, Miss Granger?"
Hermione flushed. "Isn't Advanced Defence Against The Dark Arts by Galatea Merrythought the standard for OWL syllabus?"
"Yes," he replied, pursing his lips. "And what of it?"
"So I was wondering why we're not following that text."
"What does it matter, Hermione?" asked Ron earnestly. "They're books."
"But Ron β"
"Tell me," said Harry, deciding to respond in the same vein. "Do you know why Galatea Merrythought's book is preferred for the fifth year?"
"Well, no but β"
"And are you familiar enough with Extreme Incantations to consider it a worse choice?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "No, but there has to be a reason why the Ministry set that book for our OWLS."
Harry exhaled. Trust Hermione Granger to demonstrate conclusively why she was a Gryffindor in his first class. He wondered if this defiant reaction was because of what he had said the previous night. Still, this was good in a way. If he was able to quieten her, it would only reinforce his lack of bias.
"Remind me, Miss Granger," he began softly, but firmly. "What book did the Ministry recommend for this year?"
She opened her mouth to speak, but decided otherwise.
"Exactly. The Hogwarts Library contains thousands of books, including the full set of Merrythought's works, so if you truly want to check them out feel free to study from them if you wish."
Hermione just looked away.
Harry exhaled. "I'll make this clear right off the bat. If I wanted Merrythought's opinion on the subject or what that book had to say, then I would have assigned that particular book to read. And had the last four years of DADA education been more⦠proper, Merrythought's book would have been the best text material. Because it isn't, I've selected Extreme Incantations as my choice of textbook, because it covers a greater detail of countercurses, as well as a more-rounded coverage on the last four years of DADA education."
He was now getting impressed looks from the class.
"Now. My Rule Number Three. As I said, this class will be about real-life scenarios on dealing against the Dark Arts. I expect you to do your own reading, and come to this class prepared. Any questions?"
Not a single person spoke in response.
So far so good.
"What is Dark Magic?" he asked, walking into the centre of the classroom. "There are several definitions of Dark Magic, most of which are influenced either through some ethical point of view, or political standpoints and reforms or just plain ignorance. For instance, let us take the events of '92, the Heir of Slytherin fiasco. I know a lot many among you cast aspersions on me, and thought of me as a Dark Wizard because I'm a parselmouth, one that talks to Snakes. Why? Because Salazar Slytherin and the Dark Lord Voldemort β"
Almost the entire class flinched.
He rolled his eyes. "Forgive me, Dark Lord
Tom Riddle, were also parselmouths. But ask yourself this, does having the ability make you dark, because if that's so, then Paracelsus Von Hohemheim, one of the greatest healers in history, and inventor of innumerable potions and draughts, should be branded as a Dark Wizard."
The entire class fell silent.
"So," said Harry. "In that light, perhaps some of you might be willing to give an opinion about what Dark Magic truly means?"
Hermione's hand, as expected, was up in the air.
"Yes?"
"According to the Advanced Defence Against The Dark Arts," said Hermione, and Harry suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "The Ministry classifies it as any type of magic that was mainly used to cause harm to, exert control over, or even kill people or creatures."
Harry cocked his head. "And does anyone here wish to challenge that opinion?"
Unsurprisingly perhaps, it was Daphne who raised her hand, followed by Justin Finch Fletchley.
He chose the latter.
"Erm, couldn't we use any spell to harm others?"
"We could," said Harry. "Tell me, does anyone here consider the levitation charm as Dark Magic? No, right? Yet Ronald Weasley, back in our first year, used it to drop a rather large club on the troll's head, rendering it unconscious. Now maybe I'm being biassed because Ron's my friend, but I think that does classify as harming another creature, and thus, Dark Magic."
Hermione's hand was up again.
"The definition does include the word 'mainly', professor."
"A valid point," said Harry. "Then let us consider the infamous entrail-expelling curse. It was crafted for use in slaughtering cattle and other animals prior to cooking. Are those animals not creatures? Of course they are. Is it not causing them harm? Again, yes. But when you see someone cast the curse on a human being, it gets classified under Dark Magic. Another example, the blood-boiling charm and the blood-freezing charm are both used in Healing, yet their curse-counterparts are listed among the darkest of magics. Yes, Miss Greengrass?"
"I imagine it's the intent that counts," said Daphne. "A witch or wizard can use any of the established dark charms or curses against another to protect themselves, a fight fire with fire situation."
"Only because they lack the imagination to do the same with standard magic," said Hermione snidely.
"Oh?" Daphne's lips curled. "Just like some lack the spine to do what's necessary?"
"That will be one point from each, Miss Greengrass, Miss Granger," said Harry sternly. "I will not allow any infighting in my class."
"Butβ" Hermione began.
"I suggest you drop this before I take another point away."
Bugger. This is hard. I had expected Malfoy or Parkinson to create issues, not Hermione and Daphne.
"Professor," asked Susan Bones. "What do you think Dark magic is?"
Harry frowned. "Magic⦠is a complex, multi-layered existence, a force that permeates the Universe. It can be a lot of work, at times tedious, or even painful, but at the end of the day, it's a wonder. It's what makes you a witch, wizard or magical creature. Personally, I love the focus of it, the discipline, the balance. I love working with the energy and exploring what can be done with it. I love the gathering tension in my wand before the casting, the clarity of focus needed to concentrate that tension into effect, and finally, the result at the end of it. I love the theory, the research, and attempting to make things better for everyone, even if it's a very small thing."
He paused for a moment.
"But not everyone thinks that way. For some, magic is a tool. They do not respect it for the wondrous power it is, but merely love what they can do with it. They are obsessed with the tremendous power that comes with it, despite lacking the right frame of mind to understand the consequences and permutations of using it, and knowing when not to use it."
The entire class was hanging on his every word.
"It's not so much any type of spell, or a specific branch of magic that we shouldn't use. It's the way you use magic that can be dangerous. And for the most part, it's not so much about the spell, but rather, how it can change you if you're not careful."
"Change?" asked Tracey.
"Tell me," Harry's voice rang loudly. "What is the most important component in Transfiguration?"
The answer rang clear among the audience. "Viciousness."
He nodded. "Viciousness, though I'd use a more neutral term, willpower, or intent. The ability to exert your own whim upon someone or something's reality, and alter it. A pillow is not supposed to be a pincushion, yet a few casual waves of a wand and a muttered incantation makes it so. A rock is not supposed to transform into a snake, yet it does because the caster wills it so. Intent is an integral part of the reality-changing power of Magic, and it is the nasty side of viciousness that shows itself in what we call, the effects of Dark Magic."
"How?" asked Parkinson. That surprised Harry. He had⦠well, not expected her to follow his lessons.
"To use magic in any way, you need to have the conviction and belief that you have the authority to do what you are planning on doing," said Harry. "You have to truly believe that you have the right to cast the spell, that what you are doing is correct." He paused. "For instance⦠let's talk about compulsion charms."
Harry cast a good look at everyone. "If I wish to compel someone, then I need to believe that I have the authority to alter their mind, to affect their free will, to control their very thoughts." He paused for a second. "I would have to believe that not only is doing so acceptable, but it is my prerogative to do so. Maybe it starts with something simple, like saying, 'I don't want him or her to do something'. Easy and potentially harmless. Then a little more, and a little more. Before you know it, you're invading their mind to find out what they're thinking or feeling not only just because you can but because it is your right. Do it enough, and you are not compelling them for a purpose, but your purpose becomes to compel. At that point, you are nothing but a rabid creature, a Dark Wizard or Witch, that needs to be captured and thrown to Azkaban. Not just for other's safety, but for your own."
"That's⦠scary," said Lavender.
"Case in point," said Harry. "A lot many members of our world were imperiused during the last war. Regardless of the degree of truth behind that statement, you now know exactly how dangerous the Imperius curse, or as Professor Moody called it, total control, could be. So tell me, what do you think of the people that cast that curse?"
"Dark wizards," snarled Ron.
Several among the class actually looked frightened, and were looking at each other.
"But remember," said Harry. "It started with a slight compulsion charm, which, I believe," he looked at Hermione in the eye. "The Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts doesn't classify as Dark Magic. The same goes for Legilimency, or even Love Potions."
A chorus of winces ran through the crowd.
"But somewhere along that line, those standardised magic are ultimately what turns a normal person into a Dark Witch or Wizard."
"So you're saying that magic is intent?" asked Sue Li. "That it does not matter what kind of spell or hex we use, but the reasons for which we do it?"
"Bollocks," said Zacharias Smith. "By that logic, almost any kind of magic can lead you to becoming a cruel dark wizard. Does that mean we should just stop using magic altogether?"
"Maybe that's what Potter wants," said Draco loudly. "Throw away our wands and become muggles."
"Five points from Slytherin for disrespecting a teacher, Mister Malfoy," Harry intoned.
"What? You're just taking advantage of your position," Malfoy stood up.. "Do you think you can do whatever you want just because Dumbledore's on your side? When my father hears about"
"That is Professor Dumbledore to you, Mr. Malfoy. Another ten points from Slytherin for your disrespect.," saidHarry. "And detention with Professor Grubbly-Plank. I believe she'll need a hand in bathing those hippogriffs."
"WHAT?" yelled Malfoy. "I refuse! It's not my fault that you can't teach Defence!"
"Oh yeah?" Ron challenged him. "What makes you think that, Malfoy?"
"Alright enough, both of you can stop right now!"
It didn't work.
"He's taught us nothing, of course," said Draco. "All he's done is toot his own horn, and make us afraid of wielding real power. Really, I wonder what that ignorant old fool was thinking! My father will definitely hear about this travesty of a class."
"Of course," said Theodore Nott. "Because Umbridge did such a bang-up job, didn't she? Wands away and quills out," he said, making a terrible mimicry of the toad woman. "There'll be no need to talk."
Several people laughed.
"You're being a traitor, Nott," Draco began.
"And you're being an idiot, Malfoy," Nott snapped. "This has been one of the most interactive Defence classes I've had since starting Hogwarts."
"Malfoy prefers Lockhart," said Terry Boot. "All talk and no action."
"Shut up, Boot," snarled Malfoy. Parkinson, Harry observed, had yet to say anything. "If Potter is so great, then why hasn't he shown us anything yet? This is a DADA class, and all I'm hearing are empty words."
"Really Draco," said Daphne in a ringing voice. "I thought being humiliated before everyone once was enough for you."
"It really isn't," said Ron with a laugh. "He comes to our compartment every year, tries to insult us, gets insulted and walks away."
"You think he's one of those types?" whispered Hannah, though the entire class could hear him.
"A masochist?" answered Susan, giggling. "Maybe?"
"If you don't like what Harry's teaching us, why don't you just bugger off, Malfoy?" growled Ron. "The rest of us are trying to learn something here."
"Silence!"
Every single person in the room was rooted on spot. Harry hadn't just used the sonorous charm, he had spoken it in Parseltongue. The serpent language had the side-effect of affecting the victim's nervous system. Much like a tiger or a dragon's roar, it enhanced your fears and the feeling of vulnerability, often freezing them on the spot. And given how half the class was actually shaking in fear, their faces rendered pale, the effect had worked quite fantastically.
"Silence," Harry snapped, this time in English. "Enough of this commotion! One point from every person that was involved in this mess."
He saw Ron giving him a look of disbelief, and was probably going to say something, but one glare stopped him in his tracks. Fleur had told him multiple times how utterly dangerous he looked when truly angry, and he believed her.
"Mister Malfoy," he said coldly. "Thirty points from Slytherin, and one week of detention with Mister Filch. I have mentioned, quite clearly in fact, that if you have any issues with me teaching, feel free to walk away. But interrupt me again, and you will not like the consequences."
"Malfoy," said Daphne. "Before you retort again, I'll remind you that you've single-handedly lost us fifty points. In one class. If you do not control yourself, I'll raise the issue in front of β"
"Professor Snape will understand," snapped Draco.
Daphne's teeth showed. " β In front of the House Assembly."
Draco stopped talking. Whatever this house assembly was, Draco clearly was afraid of it.
Daphne turned around and gave him an apologetic look. Harry gave her a tiny nod in acknowledgment.
Inwardly, he was wondering if he would go down in history as the teacher that broke Snape's record of deducting points from students. Really, all he wanted was to teach them what he knew, and instead it turned to this. Though being able to verbally spank Malfoy from the perspective of a teacher was oddly catheric.
"Now," he said at last. "Let us return to the topic. Mister Smith, you were saying?"
Zacharias suddenly looked unsure at being singled out like that. Perhaps he had not expected him to take the bait for what was obviously a leading question. That or he was still dealing with the lingering effects of Parseltongue.
"I, err⦠I mean, almost every magic out there can be termed dangerous like that. So does that mean we should just not use magic at all?" He gained a little confidence as he spoke. "I mean, if that's the case, are you advocating Madam Umbridge's way of a theory-centric study instead of actually practising it, because it will turn us all into dark wizards?"
Terry Boot and Kevin Entwhistle laughed at that.
Harry chuckled. Despite the taunt, Smith did have some reasoning behind his question.
"It's not quite that simple," Harry admitted. "It's true that any magic can be dangerous when used the wrong way, so I'll say that it depends on the person and the degree to which they are able to resist the effects. How often they use the magic, and of course, the exact type of magic they use. It's not like using a certain type of magic just clicks a switch in your brain and turns you into a malicious, cackling villain. There's a difference between using your magic to create fire or ice or levitate something, and to use it to immolate or freeze someone to death."
"Butβ¦" he paused, frowning. "I will tell you this. For all my talk of intent being the dividing force between good and bad, there are some magics out there, that are trulyβ¦. Dark."
For one moment, he wasn't in the classroom, teaching the students. He was back in the Lair, picking up the secrets as Ananta-Shesha imparted the legacy of the previous Wardens to him. He had come across powers that were truly evil. Magics that were by their very nature, horrible and twisted and wrong, and capable of turning someone with the best of intentions into a screaming abyss that left nothing but devastation in its wake.
Magics that were the cause behind the creation of some of the most heinous, darkest and dangerous creatures in existence.
Magics that were best left shackled beneath the Lair forever.
What is good now, can become Evil in the future, Nicholas Flamel had told him. And what is Evil now, can become Good under different circumstances.
Even his own wand was proof of that β yew and thestral hair, a wand carrying the blood of Death's vessel, crafted out of the wood of the tree of Death, with the core of a creature that was a totem of Death. A wand that excelled in casting Dark magic, not because the caster was necessarily evil, but because at times, one might need to use the darkest of magics to slay the darkest of men.
Ollivander had told him that.
But that didn't mean he was willing to use something that nasty. No, his power of Death was enough to end every kind of magic. There was no need to open that Pandora's Box.
Ever.
He cleared his throat. "And that is what this class is going to be about. To understand the proper mindset when casting magic, to analyse, appreciate and understand how certain forms of magic can twist our minds into becoming a danger for others, and what steps we can take to counter it. We will understand what makes certain magics truly dark, like the Unforgivables and Necromancy, and why certain creatures are considered dark while others are considered simply 'magical'. That," he surmised, "is going to be the objective of this year's class on Defence Against the Dark Arts."
He paused and looked at everyone expectantly. "Any questions?"
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