The Quidditch Tryouts, and how they mostly got missed
"Are you coming to tryouts?" said Ginny at breakfast.
Ron looked up and for once chose to finish his food rather than talk first.
"The surest way I can make sure Katie puts you on the team," said Harry, "is to not show up for tryouts."
Ginny grinned, "You're saying I'm still second best?"
Harry grinned, "You're approaching best, you might be best before the end of the year."
"What about me?" said Ron.
"You were best last year, the only way you won't be best again is if you don't try hard enough and let MacLaggen have it."
Ron smiled, "Thanks, mate." But throughout breakfast, he seemed … disappointed.
Parvati picked up on it also, "It would be traditional to go anyway," said Parvati.
"It would," agreed Harry, "but I'm not interested in the drama of needing to say 'no' all year yet again. If I just stay away, it should blow over by this afternoon."
"I'm not arguing," said Parvati, "I'm just saying: what if you observed from the stands instead?"
"Hmm," said Harry.
Ron met his eyes.
"Actually," said Harry, "I was considering observing from the astronomy tower."
Ron's eyes lit up, "with a bloody telescope?"
"Why not?"
Ron smiled, "why didn't I think of that? I bet the slytherins do that all the time."
Harry frowned, "Good point, there might be rules against it or something. I guess I'd better check."
"Hurry?" said Ron.
"Yup," said Harry, "if you don't see me in the stands, you know where to look for me afterwards."
"Alright," said Ron.
Parvati squeezed his hand, for only a second, then resumed eating.
.
Harry put down his book to take another glance through his telescope, things had progressed to beater tryouts, five hopefuls, three looked significantly more competent than the other two, but he didn't recognise them from this distance. He turned back to his conjured chaise lounge, only to discover that it had two animals in it.
He and Nim had been joined by a bulldog.
"Hello, Susan," he said.
Parvati looked up from her book.
Susan shifted human.
Naked.
"You're a difficult man to find, Harry Potter." She stayed lying down, probably to keep out of sight from anyone looking their way either from the stands or Ravenclaw tower, but still … naked.
"That wasn't the intent," said Harry glancing through his telescope again, he had no especial interest in beater tryouts, but he wasn't going to be ogling her up here in broad daylight without direct permission and several other considerations. And he wasn't sure yet if her nakedness was an invitation, or had been a side effect of using her animagus nose to track him down. If it was, that might explain why she didn't use her animagus form more often.
"Basically," he explained, "Peeves put us in a Parseltongue locked suite on the basement level. Ginny and I are partway through making a passageway from there back to Lion's-Keep, but we haven't got the runes right yet."
"And you didn't just put the regular runes on a piece of parchment and leave it at that?"
Harry shrugged, "I guess … it depends on whether we want to put it from hallway to hallway, or from inside the new suite to inside the old Lion's-Keep."
Parvati snickered, "There is something amusing about planning to go from the basement (ground floor east) to the basement (cellar west) via two secret passageways to the seventh floor, rather than the intended route of up the stairs to first and back down again."
"Makes sense to me," said Susan, "Especially if the point is to let specific people circumvent a Parseltongue password."
"Oh, right," said Parvati, That's a good point."
"Humph?" said Susan.
"I'm afraid we were so impressed with ourselves for having figured out a way to get Ginny, Luna, and Freyazegen through it reliably that we hadn't yet considered farther."
Susan nodded thoughtfully, "I suppose I could find it in my heart to forgive you for forgetting about me."
Harry's head snapped up and he turned to stare at her.
They frowned different kinds of concern at each other.
"You're just about late," she said.
"What?" said Harry.
"Answering this question," she said and bit her lip.
"Which question?"
"Your bed or mine?"
"Oh, of course," said Harry, "I don't know the way to your bed any more than you know your way to my new one."
"I can show you," said Susan.
"Um, Right now?" said Harry.
"That would be ideal," she said
He glanced at Parvati.
"Oh bring her too!" said Susan and turned back into a bulldog with familiar markings.
Parvati shrugged.
"I told Ron I'd watch."
"The way that mob is carrying on. I'd bet that Ron won't have a turn to try out for at least an hour."
"There is that."
"Let's go," said Parvati, "I've wanted to see what Hufflepuff and Slytherin dorms look like." They packed up their telescopes and shouldered them.
"The most amusing part of Slytherin dorms is the skylights under the lake," said Harry as they descended the stairs, "our porch onto the lake is twenty times better.—
"Oh," said Susan, "Now I'm jealous."
—Though feel free to ask us about that again, after the snowing starts." said Parvati.
.
They looked at Susan. No longer a dog. And there was a familiar painted mini-pig at the bottom of the stairs. Harry had seen that mini-pig before, across the room in animagus class, and again at Susan's house generally sniffing around places that were appropriate for neither livestock nor pets. Though painted mini-pigs were meant to be pets, if this one wasn't … and was following Susan around both at school and at home. That meant …
"You changed back?" said Parvati.
"Just remembered," said Susan, "Extreme logistic obstacles for boys on the girls' side of the dorm, so…" she shrugged.
I might or might not have a way around that, but … The pig is Hanna. … and I'm not explaining that in front of her.
Oh, and their Saturday morning project was to work together to track me by smell. And she might be even worse at climbing stairs than the bulldog. …
"Makes sense." said Harry, "Hello, Hanna, I suppose the first stop is wherever you two left your clothes?"
The pig nodded and led the way.
Susan followed and changed back to dog form just before she stepped out of the astronomy tower's narrow staircase into the main corridor.
.
After the girls dressed, Parvati led the way to ravenclaw, through the tapestry to the gryffindor corridor, through to the kitchen corridor, and then up and back down to the governors' suites wing. The hufflepuffs were suitably impressed by the tour, and then Hanna and Susan exchanged glances. Hanna kissed Susan's cheek and left by way of the greenhouse path, Susan called her thanks after her, then pulled the door closed and flopped onto Harry's bed.
Harry came to sit beside her, "What would you like Lady Bones?"
"Oh, the usual," she said, sitting up and running her teeth and tongue and lower lip, along his chin and lower lip. "I want naked, Hard and Fast until I start to feel it, and then slow until we can't stand it anymore. Parvati, you don't have to go if you want to stay."
"Thank you," said Parvati, she set up her telescope in the corner, checked it for two seconds, then she approached the bed to help her friends undress.
.
"Not sure how much longer I can hold out," said Harry.
"Then let me have a turn, while you go check on the quidditch tryouts," said Parvati.
"What?" said Harry and Susan.
"He promised Ron," shrugged Parvati.
Harry got up and went to the telescope.
Parvati climbed onto Susan, they adjusted themselves into one of their usual positions.
"I'm surprised that worked," whispered Susan.
"Of course it did, he keeps his promises," said Parvati, "No teeth, please. Just lips and tongues."
Susan rolled her eyes but nodded, and turned her eyes downward to focus on Parvati's lips. And the two girls folded tight against each other.
"It wasn't a promise," said Harry, "and they're doing broom races now."
"You perceive me caring even less than usual," said Parvati.
"I only meant," said Harry, "That I'm back."
"That doesn't necessarily make it my turn to get up," said Parvati.
"I wouldn't think so," he said, running his hands along her back and hips, "It was more of a request for suggestions on how close I should be, and where?"
He rubbed his fingers down Parvati's bum and between her legs and—
"Oh," said Parvati, "You could have said."
"I did, eventually," said Harry.
"Well, If you number the obvious places from bottom to top," said Parvati, "err, second from the top."
"What are you two even talking about?" said Susan.
"Ah," said Harry, "Lasere ducatus."
"MmmM," said Parvati, "Yes, that one."
"Ohho, that!" said Susan, "good."
Harry lined up and let her own rhythm press her around him until he was deep inside and he could let go of himself, and return to petting her sides and thighs, which she gave every indication of appreciating.
On the other hand Susan's sounds of appreciation … while somewhat quieter were more viciously lewd.
.
Harry grunted and gave in to a desire to push forward hard as his groin also demanded to take its instinct to pump out of his conscious control. They all struggled and panted, and then he pulled back, "Alright," he said, "I'm done for the moment."
He climbed away and wandered across the room to the telescope, "they're up to a practice game, two chasers each side, one beater each side, it looks like Ron and MacLaggen are keeping, about what we predicted."
He returned to the bed and climbed gingerly across the girls' legs to slump against the wall.
"Are you getting back in?" said Susan, "we could roll over so you could be in me again."
"I might be done," said Harry, "but my hands still work, what's the consensus?"
"I might be finished too," said Parvati, and rolled off Susan's other side, "How done are you?"
"I'd rather not be done yet," said Susan, "What are my options? Or are you kicking me out for a couple of hours?"
"Hmm," said Parvati leaning away so that she could raise a knee over Susan to lay the side of her shin on Susan's crotch, then leaned back in to start licking a nipple. "Who said you get any options? Maybe you have to stay here until you're done. Come on Harry, Susan's not done, pick a spot to kiss, there are plenty, I can share."
Harry chuckled, then lay down and rolled close so that he could kiss back and forth, long meandering lines, up her neck to her mouth, and down again to the nipple that Parvati wasn't playing with. While he was doing that, he slid one hand under her back to stroke her bum, and the other down to pet the inside of her knee and up to whatever parts of her folds or clit or navel weren't currently being covered by Parvati's knee.
"Why do I have the weird feeling don't I entirely have a say in this?" said Susan.
"You don't have any say in this," said Parvati, "I told you, you can't leave until you say you're done."
Susan laughed, "Is that the new rule?"
"It's the rule today," said Parvati.
"Thank Merlin," said Susan, "I think it's exactly the rule I needed for today."
"Of course, it is," said Parvati, "That's why I suggested it."
"You're starting to remind me of Luna."
"It comes from hanging out with Ginny so much," said Parvati.
"How does that follow?"
"I don't know how Luna knows things," said Parvati, "Some things I know because Ginny's mark helps me notice what kinds of care certain people need."
"And I'm certain people?" said Susan, "Yes Harry, Right there!"
"Good," breathed Harry.
"Yes, We care about you Susan," said Parvati, "Don't be such a stranger."
"Alright," said Susan, "I won't be. I promise."
.
About two orgasms later, Susan admitted that she was done. Less than ten minutes after that all three admitted to growing senses of boredom and to not wanting to waste a perfectly good Saturday. So they dressed and went outside.
On the way down to the pitch they passed Ron and Ginny hiking the other way brooms on their shoulders.
"We made the starting lineup!" crowed Ginny, At the same time that Ron opened his mouth.
"Well done!" called Harry.
Ginny looked at Susan, then Parvati, then Harry, and stopped walking.
Please don't be jealous.
Ron took several steps farther and she glanced at him too, "Ron," she said, "I want to talk to Parvati and Susan, and Harry wants to talk to you, and probably to the rest of the team. Do you want to walk back with him?"
Ron glanced back to the pitch, and then met Harry's eyes, and grinned, "Sure!"
Ginny gave Harry a smile and a wink, then passed him to join Parvati.
Ron stood still and waited for Harry to join him and they went down the hill together.
"I saw you keeping in the 2-off game, couldn't see all of the rest."
"Is the astronomy tower not the best viewing location?"
"Depends on which part of the pitch," said Harry, "The stands are too tall, in places."
"Yes, well," said Ron.
"So how did the rest of it go?" said Harry.
"Were we so obviously and obliviously horny and stupid as fourth years?" said Ron.
"Yes," said Luna.
"Hello Luna," said Harry.
"I didn't see you at first," said Ron.
"I was stalking wrackspurts," said Luna, "but I think Mr Bingley is going to be able to handle the infestation that I spotted before it has any chance of becoming chronic."
"Bingley is McLaggen's rabbit?" said Ron.
"Yes," said Luna, "Rabbit brothers are one of the best kind for snuggling unless you're allergic. Sometimes I wish I had one. Not that I need one now that I have a lion, two horses, and a monkey."
Snorkack ran up her arm to her shoulder and turned rabbit-shaped.
She giggled and stopped walking to play with him.
"And a kelpie," she said.
Ron and Harry glanced back, then at each other.
Ron shrugged. When Luna started cooing and making sounds that not only were not words but couldn't possibly be mistaken for words, Harry shrugged too, and they kept walking.
"Did you understand a word she said?"
McLaggen is moping, possibly crying, she was concerned about him for a while, but she thinks he'll be happier hugging his rabbit than getting comfort from her.
But, I'm not going to gossip about that. "Nope," said Harry, "Not a word."
"Oh," said Ron, after several seconds he turned and gave Harry a confused, side-eyed glare.
"Hmm?" said Harry.
"Fine," said Ron, "Then … I guess I didn't either."
Harry smiled, Thank you, Ron. "That's alright, learning what Luna means by things isn't the only skill out there."
Ron nodded, "Sometimes, I'm not sure which of you is scarier."
"I think hanging around Millicent has been good for you," said Harry.
"Well," said Ron, "It has been educational."
Harry nodded.
"And two hours ago," whispered Ron, "I was more worried about him bullying me on purpose than about me bullying him by accident."
"It's like that sometimes," agreed Harry, "especially around sports. The muggle term for being careful about it is, 'good sportsmanship'."
"Hmm," said Ron, "I've heard Tracy call something that, but I didn't understand what she was talking about."
.
"Hey Harry!" said Katie Bell, "Were you training her the whole summer? She's good!"
Harry smiled, "it wasn't the only thing we did, but yeah, there were some seeker races."
"What else did you do?"
"A lot of gardening, fencing practice, politics, sewing, and some other stuff." (shagging)
Katie Bell smiled and spun around, "Alright," she bellowed, "anyone who wants more practice time than is scheduled, is encouraged to take fencing, apparently that's how Potter and the Weasleys are so good!"
She turned back around and grinned at him.
"Nice," said Harry.
"Umm, Katie?" said Ron.
"Yeah?"
"Umm, you're keeping McLaggen right? For second string beater?"
"Yes," she said, "and third string Chaser, and second string Keeper."
"Ah, alright," said Ron, "Good."
She narrowed her eyes, "Don't get complacent on me."
"Of course not!" said Ron.
She nodded.
She looked at Harry, "Your little ravenclaw was around earlier."
Harry nodded, "She's already on her way up to the castle."
"She's not a spy is she?"
"Her usual method is to watch everything, and only blab to get help for other people, not to gain anything for herself."
She frowned, "well, that's better than I'd normally have hoped for. … anyway, I know she normally cheers for us against slytherin, and sometimes Hufflepuff."
"No," said Ron, "She cheers for whichever team in the current game is currently the underdog at committing fowls, last year that often meant she was cheering against us."
Katie's mouth dropped open, then she nodded and bit her lip, "I see. We got complacent last year, We'll try to win a little more cleanly this year."
"Good," said Ron.
Harry nodded.
They talked for a while longer.
Katie turned to Harry, "I heard there were some lockers in the boys' room that don't open properly, would you happen to know about that?"
"Merlin," said Harry, "That would have been the twins and me, I'll get them open and unwarded for you if I can."
"Thanks," she said.
Outside the washroom, he found Romilda Vane staring forlornly at the door.
"Waiting for someone?"
She shrugged, "Ron Weasley and Jimmy Peakes are so dreamy."
"And they're in here?" said Harry.
She nodded.
"Interesting," said Harry, "What position does Jimmy play?"
"Beater," she said, "He made the team, and so did Ritchie, but …"
"Ah," said Harry with a raised eyebrow, "not so dreamy?"
She shrugged.
"I see," said Harry, "Well, I've got to do some curse-breaking, see you later."
.
The passwords were still the same, inside his locker was a package addressed to him from Fred and George. Inside each of the twins' lockers were runic plaques that conjured illusions of snitches and bludgers.
One had the illusions play their part as usual. The other had their behaviours reversed.
Harry figured out how to shut them off, though not before both the new Beaters had come out of their showers cursing and bellowing demands about what was going on.
"Sorry," said Harry, "one last prank from the Weasley twins."
They rolled their eyes.
"So, should I throw them away, or leave them here?"
They looked at each other and smirked, "Leave them here."
Harry nodded, "Jimmy, you have a fan waiting for you," he pointed to the door where the ambush was located, "you want me to run her off or leave her alone?"
Jimmy blinked, then shrugged, "Leave her alone." Then motioned to the other door with a shrug.
Harry grinned and nodded, and left by that door.
Three other girls were waiting by that door. Oh, great.
"Harry!" called two of them.
"Why didn't you try out this year?"
"NEWT classes are hard enough," said Harry, "I have more interesting things to do with my time."
"Like what?"
"Well, for instance, I'm on a Wizengamot research committee."
Two nods and one, "It's like talking to Percy Weasley."
"Thank you," said Harry, "If any of you are waiting for McLaggen, he already left."
"Where? When?" said the oldest of them.
Harry pointed in vaguely the direction that he'd seen Luna lurking, then he left the stadium by a different route.
On his way up to the castle he caught up to Katie and Demelza
"The curse-breaking was successful," said Harry.
"Oh, good. Thanks, Harry," said Katie and took a bit longer than usual to smile and look away.
"What was that?" said Harry.
"You've come a long way since your first year," she said.
"You've also come a long way since my first year," he said.
She grinned.
Luna danced up slowly in a graceful tiptoe then dropped forcefully to her heals just as she grabbed his elbow in her own, in a way that hinted strongly how she wanted to be escorted, and that somehow she only counted as 'present' when her heals were on the ground,
"Hello Luna," said Harry, "Welcome back."
"Hello Harry," she said, "Thanks for sending more help with the allergy problem."
"Thank you for alerting me to the problem."
"Of course," said Luna, "It's one of the proper uses of tame nargles. You could have explained this earlier."
"Is there such a thing as a tame nargle?" said Harry.
"Yes," said Luna, "You've got at least six of them."
Harry took several seconds too long to close his mouth, "fine," he said finally, "I suppose I might. Though some of them aren't quite so tame as some of the others."
Luna smiled.
"Are they … catching?" said Demelza Robins.
"Nah, they're harmless," said Katie, "unless you're a death eater, then they're your worst nightmare."
Demelza sighed and gave Harry a look, like that sort of violence ought to be taboo to talk about on a pretty day, or outside of history class or whatever, but since it was Katie that brought it up, she wouldn't reprimand him about it.
.
Shortly after, the quidditch players kept on the path toward the front door and grand staircase, while Harry and Luna turned aside toward the greenhouse path, for the shortcut to their rooms.
Susan was still there, She and Ginny were copying runes from their notes onto two big pieces of parchment. Those would be a little small for doorways, but … if they were only temporary until he and Ginny finished something more reasonably sized, then …
"What do you have Harry?"
"A package claiming to be for me from Fred Weasley, I'm … thinking that it might be better to open it outside 'Just In Case'."
Ginny and Susan looked up.
"I'm not missing this," said Susan.
"Definitely open it outside," said Ginny, "and not too near the water, if you have to dodge away you don't want the dodging to become an entire additional risk."
"Makes sense," said Harry.
They all went outside, except Padma who instead chose to watch from the other side of a window, thank you very much.
.
"What is it?"
"It appears to be a blank piece of parchment."
Susan said, "That was a lot of build-up for nothing, Harry."
"Given the source," said Harry, "I'm sure 'appears to be' is an important distinction."
"The letter," said Ginny, "says there are passwords, (yes, plural) on it."
"Hmm," said Harry.
"Let me see the letter," said Parvati.
"Mischief managed," said Harry.
"Now, there's a password I can get behind," said Susan.
"Nothing," said Harry, "Let's try, 'I solemnly swear I'm up to no good.'"
"Ugh," said Susan, "That one doesn't sound right at all."
"Still nothing," said Harry, "What else does that letter say?"
"A wand tap with the opening password. Clear enunciation with the closing password."
"Hmm," said Harry and got out his wand.
This time the parchment bloomed into a much larger piece of parchment, at the same time as ink blossomed across it to form a map of Hogwarts Castle and its Surrounds.
"Oh, Merlin," said Harry, "It's Dad and Sirius' inverse map."
"What?"
"Like what Susan and Wotcher did to the manor, it's one of those graphs of what the unplottable wards are looking for to stop you from making a map of Hogwarts."
"Nice!" said Susan, "Let me see?"
But they all wanted to see.
So Harry took it back inside and laid it on the table so they could all gather around and examine it.
"You know," said Padma, "The way it tracks people … It would have been really useful to have in '92."
"It would have been nice to have in '91," said Harry.
"Oh, look," said Luna, "Why is my name Luna Lovegood, but Nim's name is Harry's Nim?"
"What else should your name be?" said Susan.
"Harry and Ginny and Parvati and Padma's pet: Hunter."
The name by Luna's footprints briefly changed, then changed back.
"I think it depends on who you think you are," said Harry.
"Ok, how about," Luna shifted to Hunter.
"It says, Harry's Padma and Harry's Ginny and Harry's Parvati's pet Hunter," Ginny read out.
Luna changed back, and so did her name, she stared at the map until she got it to change to, "Snorkack's human-friend." Then she nodded and stepped back.
"I wonder if Peter Pettigrew showed up as Peter Pettigrew, or Wormtail, or as Scabbers," said Harry, "Because … I guess that would have made a big difference in how useful it could have been in '93."
"Good question," said Ginny, "What are we going to do with all this?"
"No idea," said Harry, "my first response is to hang it on the wall by your circumstance clock."
"That makes sense," said Ginny.
"Wait a second," said Harry, "we can stick things on interior walls, and on doors, but not exterior walls?"
"Also not on the bathroom walls, inside or out," said Padma.
"Weird, so has it already been decided where the portals will go?"
"I was thinking, Ginny chooses where to put the near end here," said Parvati, "And Susan, you choose where to put the other end in Lion's-Keep."
Susan frowned for a moment, then nodded, "Because she's been arranging things here and I did a lot of the arranging things there, that scans, but … what effect are we going for?"
"What?"
"Which side of the room?"
"Ideally," said Harry, "The near one would face there, and the far one would face here, to keep our senses of direction mostly synchronised, not like the gryffindor to kitchen tapestry."
They stared at him, and Susan consulted the Hogwarts map since it was lying right there and easy to consult.
.
"Right-hand side it is," said Susan, "But we just established that one can't go on the front wall here?"
"Right," said Ginny, "And if we put this one on our left-hand wall instead, and put that one on a back wall."
"To keep them facing mirror direction to each other," said Susan, "Or going through keeping you facing the same compass point, or however you like to say it. Sounds good, I'll see you as soon as I have this one up. Who's coming with me?"
.
...-...
Theories of Defence, Theories of Teaching
[Content warning: Author doesn't know how to tag this one.]
Justin Warner unlocked his classroom and looked around.
It wasn't as clean as he should expect for a castle filled with house-elves. But it wasn't terrible. Perhaps the castle was big enough that they had to take things on a rotation.
He went to the middle of the room and turned in a full circle, all the desks were facing him. And the podium. None were facing the oversized teacher's desk in the corner.
He let his eyes wander down to the marks on the floor.
It seemed that several desk arrangements had been tried over the years. He certainly recognised the standard formations of 'everyone face the front,' and 'everyone face the centre.' And there were grooves in the floor from someone who favoured a habitual switch between a classroom format and something with all the desks against the walls, probably for an arena to showcase what was being taught and probably for the students to showcase what they'd learned.
Whoever had his classroom most recently had opted for a much smaller arena and placed it in the centre of the floor, and wood-burnt the runes for one of the standard ward schemes for a duelling piste. He found the beginning and read through them to verify exactly which ward scheme it was.
He could work with that.
Maybe around mid-December, he'd need to sand down through a few of the rune clusters and replace them with something a bit more comprehensive.
Meanwhile … How soon should I expect students?
Too bad I didn't arrive half an hour earlier and get an announcement made at breakfast. I guess I'll get another chance at lunch.
So… I probably have the morning to prepare.
Justin bit his lip and flicked a drop of bloody saliva into the runes. His intention was both to activate them and give them one more reason not to fight him too hard when he wrested control of them.
Unfortunately, the runes were already active, merely the shield wards were quiescent at the moment, it took him about three minutes of effort to convince them that he was the master of the piste. At least for the moment.
Bloody hell, who set these wards? and who left them active?
He sat down at the big desk to rest, and to contemplate.
Everything about the room and its arrangement implied … either a duelling club, (No, for that the desks would be pushed to the walls.) or mutual respect between the seekers of knowledge and the sharers of knowledge.
A very healthy attitude for a defence class.
Not the sort of attitude he'd picked up from any of the other professors, nor from any of the students he'd passed in the hall.
This would be his first time as a Professor of children instead of adult continuing education classes, he'd heard that the difference was stark. But this room arrangement gave him hope.
However, he was also aware that circumstances had conspired to make their first impression of him seeming 'so inept that he was almost three weeks late'.
He was rather annoyed about that, but there was nothing he could do about it at this date, except do his best and try to do his job with the circumstances that had been allowed him.
.
A student walked in and went to a desk before freezing mid-step and staring at him. Just in time for the student behind her to collide with her.
"Welcome," said Justin, "please come in and take seats."
They did, but they kept wary eyes on him, and on the fact that the piste wards were already raised.
He should lower those, at the very least, to reduce the amount of traffic flow problems.
He did so and made his way to the podium.
He checked his wristwatch, eight minutes early for his second period. Excellent. Somehow news had travelled that he was here. So much for a morning to get his materials prepared.
He got out his roll and his lecture notes and arranged them on the podium.
More students trickled in, he felt when one of them crossed the piste and tried to take control of it.
Justin fought back and ejected him from the ring.
He staggered but kept his balance, with a little unconscious, or at least reflexive, help from his girlfriend. Then he reached back, more tentatively, before turning to Justin with a very serious expression in his intense green eyes, and then a deep nod.
Quiet acknowledgement that responsibility for the piste had changed hands.
Justin nodded back.
That one would be one to watch.
Those two took seats almost immediately to Justin's left.
A few more students wandered in and took seats.
Most glanced back and forth between Justin and Mr Intense-green-eyes.
Then the pieces fit together. All of them had been surprised that I'm here. None of them had recognised me. All of them showed up for whatever Mr Intense-green-eyes had scheduled at this time slot. I wonder if these students even belong to the current form and time slot.
Will they leave as soon as they've all gathered and negotiate where to meet instead since their venue has reverted to its institutional schedule?
About one minute until, the girlfriend of Mr Intense-green-eyes turned and stage whispered, "You might as well start, this is everyone likely to show up."
Justin glanced at her, then looked around. Twelve students out of twenty.
"Ah," said Justin and made a show of checking his watch, then verified that he'd opened the roll to the correct page.
"They have thirty seconds before they're late," said Justin, "Not that I'm docking any points for lateness until after the announcement at breakfast tomorrow. Unless of course the powers that be choose to make that announcement today at lunch." He shrugged, "Alright, would anyone like to close the door?"
"We usually don't," said someone.
Mr Intense-green-eyes shifted, and the door closed. Someone seems to be a showoff.
"But—" objected the same someone.
"Thank you," said Justin, "Welcome to sixth-year Defence Against the Dark Arts. I am Professor Justin Warner, and if things go well, I will be your professor for the remainder of the school year. I am going to be calling roll until I know your faces well enough to fill in the attendance chart without needing your assistance."
.
Justin called roll and tried to connect names to faces. Miss Conscientious Objector was Hermione Granger. Mr Intense-green-eyes was named Harry Potter (of course), and his girlfriend was Parvati Patil.
Once that was finished, he put the roll book aside and picked up his notes.
"The name of this course is Defence against the Dark Arts," he said, "If you're anything like my previous acquaintances from the United Kingdom, you've got a very warped view of what constitutes 'Defence', and what constitutes 'Dark'. I hope to not only rectify both of those shortcomings before they get you into trouble, but also teach more than merely the logic of how Defence ought to be accomplished, but the art and science behind how to accomplish them in practice."
Three hands went up.
About half the students seemed like they wanted to shout out answers, except he had yet to ask a question.
He called on the red-head. "Mr Weasley was it, you have something to say?"
"While we were waiting for you, We've read and discussed chapters two, and three, and are partway through chapter four."
"Who's we?"
Ron stood up and looked around, then sat down again, "Everyone here."
Mr Intense-green-eyes shifted.
Justin turned to face him, "Philosophical discussions often get bogged down, without a mediator, or master of ceremonies. Mr Potter, care to tell me who led those discussions?"
"I did."
"Care to tell me why you skipped chapter 1?"
"Too important for us to tackle before I gained their trust and interest," said Harry, "I hoped to cover it between chapters seven and eight."
"Interesting," said Justin.
He turned to the rest of the class, and rubbed his chin, "did he at least summarise what was in the chapter?"
"What is defence, what is not defence, and why," said Hermione Granger.
"That is indeed the topic of the first chapter," agreed Justin, "How many of you have read the chapter?"
Five hands went up. Less than half.
"Can any of you summarise the contents, rather than the topic of the first chapter?"
The redhead put up his hand. So did Miss Patil.
"Mr Weasley?"
"Don't start violence. But if violence starts, generally your responsibility is to run like hell, not to fight back," he said, "Unless you have someone or someplace you have a legal right to protect, or a declared feud or whatever that proves that escaping will not sufficiently alleviate the danger to yourself, or the people, places, or things that you have a right to be protecting."
"Extremely well summarised," said Justin, "In most other situations violence is illegal and immoral. And even in defence situations your primary goal is to preserve the safety of yourself and your family and friends, your primary goal is not to do damage to your opponents, though depending on the situation it might be a necessary secondary goal. As such, your primary sub-goals are to do whatever it takes to escape, even if that means engaging in enough violence to neutralise the threat. Does anyone else wish to add to the summary that Mr Weasley gave us?"
One of the Irish lads raised his hand.
Justin motioned for him to go ahead.
"There's a lot about when and how to apologise, but, I don't think I could systematise it enough to summarise any … or even at all.
"That's fair, there's not very many people that can summarise, nor books that teach the when, why, and how of apology. Mr Potter's suggestion that the discussion of apology ought to come after the chapter about treaty negotiation, is intriguing … and implies an unusual perspective." Justin glanced again at Potter, and his curious raised eyebrow, "I'm extremely tempted to invite him to share it with us when we reach that point. Though … I believe I can recreate the gist of it."
Potter's other eyebrow went up, and they twitched together, transforming from curious to dubious.
"Let's see," said Justin, "Given a general goal of protecting yourself (and your family). Most of your everyday energy will be spent protecting against everyday dangers like hunger, disease, and the weather. But there are other dangers, such as the creatures and plants that you should have learnt about in your first two years, in classes like this."
There was a general rumbling. Justin caught the names of several of the previous professors to hold this post.
Justin nodded, "And, if your previous professor's notes are to be believed, last year you were introduced to the techniques and philosophy of Widerstandsfähig Zauberstab, or Resilient Wand the school of wanded martial arts generally endorsed by European Aurors."
Everyone nodded. Interesting.
"How many of you now consider yourselves capable enough to be dangerous, (even if, perhaps, you know yourself to be pacifist enough to never use those techniques without severe provocation)?"
Everyone raised a hand. But then, these were the enthusiasts that when defence class was cancelled, met anyway.
"And how many of you are aware of an imbalance of power between yourselves and your peers who aren't as capable of violence?"
A few eyes widened.
"And how many of your peers are aware of that imbalance of power?"
A few sober nods, a few grins.
"Mr Finnegan, how does being powerful feel?"
"It feels good."
Justin nodded, "How does it feel to be less powerful?"
Quizzical looks.
Mr Finnegan looked troubled.
"It makes you nervous, doesn't it, to be around (for example:) Aurors, who have more power than you, both training for violence, and socially bestowed power to kidnap and hold for trial."
Nods all around, except Potter and Granger.
"To be around … perhaps adults from your extended family who you don't yet know well enough to trust."
Potter joined the nods this time.
"To be around … rough neighbourhoods, or at least neighbourhoods with a reputation for roughness."
More nods.
"Or perhaps neighbourhoods with a reputation for being politically opposed to your family or some such."
More nods, yes, now everyone had nodded at least once.
"Remember that feeling, some of you are fans of this class because you hope to feel that as rarely as possible. And that is a very valid reason for wanting to do well here." He looked around, "But there is another, more important reason to remember what it feels like to be small."
He met each of their eyes, "Many of you are of an age to begin dating, or what do they call it around here, 'courting'."
"Those are two different things," muttered someone, "and yes, some of us do both." There were grins and glances.
Justin followed glances and found himself looking at Miss Granger. Apparently, she also was the resident expert in splitting hairs. "(In both senses of the phrase,)" the uncharitable portion of his mind supplied. He silently rebuked that part of his mind and continued building his case.
"Point taken," he nodded, "given that most of you will wish to find and attract life partners, and start families. And perhaps, with luck, raise well-adjusted children, preferably children who you will enjoy being around as they age, and who will also enjoy being around you," he looked around. No one shook their heads, "You will spend a lot of time around those who are … effectively defenceless against you."
He looked around, It seemed like only Weasley understood where this was going.
"And let's face it, we all make mistakes, (hopefully none of those mistakes will involve physical or magical violence, but even so…)
"How do we handle mistakes, when they happen, and why?"
Lots of widened eyes.
Granger raised her hand.
He nodded and called on her.
"Apologise."
"Are you saying that because you believe it is the correct moral behaviour, or because that is the name of the lesson?"
She frowned, "Because it is the correct moral behaviour."
Justin nodded, "And what constitutes an apology?"
"Are you asking for an example or a formula?"
"Either one."
"Sorry that I bumped into you, I'll try to pay better attention to where I'm going in the future. Please forgive me."
Justin nodded, "Would anyone else like to give another example?"
Potter's girlfr— Miss Patil raised a hand.
Justin pointed to her, "Go ahead."
"I'm sorry I'm late, Professor McGonagall held me back after class, believe me, I'd much rather have been here with you. Maybe … would you like to study late to make up for it?"
Everyone snickered.
"Very g—"
"Or," Patil continued, "would you prefer to reschedule for tomorrow?"
"Ah, Very good, Miss Patil. Very good both of you. Miss Granger, your example contains the classically important bits. Though perhaps reduced so far into idiom as to be unintelligible. You acknowledged an action or sequence of events that caused them pain or inconvenience, and you didn't offer to make it right, but instead offered an un-asked for promise to try to not make the same mistake again."
Lots of nods.
"What is forgiveness?"
No one seemed ready to give a definition.
"No, one here seems to know, therefore, I suggest that it's a useless phrase, by the end of class, I hope to have given you some hints what you might choose to replace it with."
There, that startled them all. Granger was, of course, offended.
Justin smiled at her, "If all of my translations into modern vernacular fall short, I'm sure Miss Granger will be willing to provide nuance once I'm done."
She smiled back.
"Miss Patil's example provides an excellent counterpoint to many classical rules-of-thumb about apologies, for instance, it isn't about physical harm."
He looked around, "Mr Potter, do you spar?"
He blinked at the startling non-sequitur. "Yeah?"
"When you strike your opponents in such a session, do you apologise for that?"
"Umm, usually not," said Potter, "for excessive bruises or broken bones, yes. Not for completing a strike that was the goal of the trial."
"Exactly," said Justin.
"In fact," said Potter, "(depending on circumstances), I might need to apologise, were I to strike or block less skilfully than I am capable of, or had agreed to. Thereby robbing them of the learning experience that we'd previously agreed on."
"Exactly," said Justin, "Apologies are not directly about, nor are they necessitated by physical harm, nor by the violence that causes such harm. Apologies are about the underlying breach of trust."
He looked around, "Does anyone want to take a stab at why?"
Potter raised his hand.
"Does anyone want to try, before Mr Potter?"
There was a general chuckle, but no one else seemed ready to try.
"Alright, go ahead, Mr Potter."
Potter stood up, "To apologise is not just to admit that you have failed to live up to some contract or treaty or code of behaviour, (but then, so is a declaration of war), the point of an apology is to request a ceasefire and offer a new treaty, or if you want to look at it differently, to offer a conditional surrender. 'I'll acknowledge this mistake,—' (and usually by doing so admit what code of conduct you should be expecting me to follow), and often promise better behaviour in the future, conditional on, please don't seek revenge, etc." Potter sat down.
"Hmmm," said Justin, "I was right, that you do have an interesting perspective." Justin cleared his throat and looked around. "Notice how he brought in revenge. A concept about balancing accounts, at least from one side's perspective. Forgiveness, just to be clear, is a concept about cancelling a debt, another method to cause accounts to become balanced. In Miss Patil's example, it was the student apologising for a breach, I'll let you decide whether it was the student's mistake to promise a time that was at risk of Professor intervention, or the Professor's 'completely unprecedented,' interference with her schedule, that counts as the central offence in that circumstance, but either way the explanation was delivered to the person that needed it. But the breach of trust was not merely laughed off and blamed on the professor.
"What did she say? 'I'd rather have been here with you / I'd rather have been here on time,' which is to say, 'the offence was against me also.' And 'I empathise with your pain because I also feel it,'
"And finally she made a suggestion how the accounts could be balanced: they could study longer, or the ruined study session could be replaced by another of equal or greater value."
He glanced around, "Most muggle businesses when they have reason to apologise, rarely follow up their apology with a request for forgiveness. Whenever possible they instead try to make it right, usually with (your choice or theirs), a replacement product, or your money returned, or a request for a new appointment during which they can again attempt to provide the services specified in the contract."
Several nods, probably the muggle-borns.
"I suggest that you'll find your apologies will go over much better with offers how you'd like to make it right, how to repay them for your mistake, rather than asking them to cancel your debt."
"Not all such debts can be repaid," said Malfoy.
"True," said Justin, "Care to give an example?"
"There's a phrase," said Malfoy, "an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind."
"It's from a song," said one of his neighbours.
"Not the point," said Malfoy, "The point is, if someone cursed my eye in an incurable way, I wouldn't be particularly satisfied by them also losing theirs, though it might help a little."
"Go on," said Justin.
"It wouldn't make it right, it would make it … more wrong."
"What would make it right?" said Justin.
Malfoy shrugged, "If they were to cover the purchase of a prosthetic or something."
Granger nodded. The students seemed split about half and half who agreed with him, and who was confused.
"How is that at all commensurate?" said Finnegan.
"He means a magical working prosthetic, like Professor Moody's," said Potter, "not an aesthetic prosthetic."
"Oh, I forgot that was an option."
"Alright," said Justin, "We've come almost full circle, does anyone have any questions before we close this out?"
"You've talked about 'offences' as 'debts that can be repaid' instead of only asking for them to be forgiven," said Hermione, "and Draco has pointed out the desirability of cooperative reparations over destructive revenge. (And I agree) though when the offence involved is other kinds of harm, I'm not sure where prostheses are or are not available. But you've also suggested that it is the emotional, not the physical injury that is the central offence, at least sometimes."
"Quite," said Justin, "Does anyone want to answer this?"
…
"No one?"
"Alright, well, let's start from the beginning if someone or something attacked you and took off … your wand arm… no let's make it your non-wand arm. What would you do, or at least wish to do?"
"Are we … discussing the case where they offered no apology or explanation?"
"Exactly, no apology, no explanation, no offer to make things right, no request for forgiveness, no acknowledgement at all that harm had been done."
"Kill them," said Parkinson.
A few people grunted irritated rebukes.
"Yes, That sounds right," said Justin.
"Huh?" said several of them, and everyone else was glancing back and forth with startled eyes.
"I said, we are assuming no acknowledgement that they had done wrong. If someone did something like that, I'd be forced to wonder if they were so emotionally unresponsive as to effectively be a wild animal, or conversely, if they viewed me as nothing more than an animal. In either case, I'd feel so unsafe around them, that yes, kill or be killed, or escape from the area where they live, or drive them away from the area where I live." He glanced around, "Next worse is acknowledging that your emotions were upset, but not acknowledging any responsibility for that fact. The protagonist of Parvati's example managed to convey a relatively admirable emotional connection, without acknowledging any responsibility for the wrong done, merely a desire to take responsibility for making it right. I'm not sure how you feel about someone making an apology like that, I'd probably wish to still be their friend but begin to harbour doubts about how they run their schedule and manage their time.
"A not-so-good example might be one of the most famous non-apologies of all: 'I am sorry that you felt that way.' Or even worse, 'I am sorry if that's how I made you feel.' Does anyone want to—"
"You don't get to apologise for someone else's emotions," growled Miss Patil, "You only get to apologise for your actions, (because you now regret them or whatever, regardless of whether their emotions have anything to do with how you know to regret them.) The correct wording isn't 'I'm sorry IF you felt that way,' The correct wording is, 'Now that I understand how much my actions hurt you, I am sorry for my actions. (not for getting caught, and not their emotions about it)."
Did anyone else notice the discrepancy?
"Sometimes you get to apologise for the actions of a group that you identify with," said one of Malfoy's neighbours.
"True," said Justin, "And we'll be coming back to that. Miss Patil, good summary, you're telling me that I should be apologising for the offence I committed, not for my offendee's offendedness?"
"Yes!" said Patil, "if someone needs to be apologising for the way they feel, those are their emotions. If their emotions are offensive that is on them to apologise for, though I'm not sure what that would even mean."
"I have some ideas, but we'll be getting to that another day."
"Ok."
"And earlier you gave an example of apologising for someone else's behaviour, namely a Professor keeping you late, care to contrast the difference between that and this?"
Patil sighed but only grimaced.
Potter took her hand, "As Theo said, sometimes the right thing to do is to identify with a group of people and take responsibility for delivering the apology, even if and when the rest of the group doesn't even know that a wrong has been committed. Like Parvati's example, the Professor was ultimately responsible for offending, but the offence was delivered, by the protagonist, (or rather the offence was not delivering on a promise). Therefore, taking responsibility to also deliver the apology makes sense. Though it could be worded differently to better convey … (if it's even important), what fraction of the responsibility you share, maybe, 'I came as soon as I could,' versus 'we got to talking and I lost track of time,'
"Ah," said Justin, "good points. And that leads us back to my final example of a top five worst apology, The impatient 'apology'. It's not any particular wording, but rather the way and the timing of when it is delivered. When you're about to apologise, consider, whether you are trying to convince them to trust you enough to let you be on speaking terms again, (Then yes, an apology is called for.) If on the other hand, they're already talking to you, already explaining what they found offensive about your behaviour, and your only motivation is to make them stop. I suggest that the words you say, regardless of their content are not you apologising. The impatient 'apology' is not motivated by an understanding of their point of view, but a desire to not be burdened further by their point of view, and therefore is the opposite of a true apology."
"Umm," said Potter, "I think that you're saying that … it's not that an apology is a peace treaty. But that … the umm research or interview process to figure out how to tailor an apology that is correct to the situation, is more like an entire treaty negotiation?"
"That sounds accurate," said Justin, "though by all means, start with an apology for the part that you already know you did wrong, and see how they respond. There's a good chance they'll accept it. There's also a good chance that they will reject it, for being inaccurate or incomplete and begin telling you the rest of what they didn't like about your behaviour."
That got nods all around.
"Can anyone else give an example of apologies that they did or didn't like?"
Goyle raised his hand. Finnegan merely started talking, "The anti-apology: I never claimed to be a saint. Or any of the even more facetious variations about 'no one gets made a saint until they've been dead 80 years and I don't expect to be an exception, etc.' I mean, no one is asking you to be perfect already, well we are asking, … but we're not expecting it, but we are expecting you to try, and be making visible progress over time."
"Hmm, good points."
Justin pointed at Goyle, "Go ahead. Mr Goyle."
"Maybe what he said, regarding behaviour, but the polar opposite regarding whether or not to apologise. I don't like repeated apologies for the same exact thing and repeated promises to do better, and no visible progress at actually doing better."
"Fair," said Justin, "What would you prefer?"
"Stop wasting both our times with empty apologies and promises, just concentrate on living better."
Justin nodded.
"There's a song about 'sometimes the best apology is a life lived well'."
"I think it was, 'sometimes the only real apology, is a life well lived'."
"I don't believe you."
"Look it up,"
"Fine, I will."
Justin sighed, there were advantages and disadvantages to having a classroom that ran as a collaboration of equals, and so far … only about half of these had earned it.
"Now, as this is not a literature class, we care mainly about the ideas expressed, and not so much about the artistry of the words used. Though in the case of today's lesson, the two do run together somewhat."
That seemed to take the wind out of the budding discussion of poetry and song.
"Given that the language generally used about apology, is borrowed from debt or obligation. I want to compare and contrast another part of everyday life that also borrows language about debt and obligation."
"Caveat," said Granger, "the best apology probably is a life well lived, but they still probably deserve the acknowledgement and explanation, that you know that you've hurt them and are working on it. Like he said, so that they don't think you are an unfeeling animal, or that you think that they are."
"Good summary," said Justin.
When their eyes were on him again he went on. "Expressions of thanks and some of the most common responses also deal with the concept of obligation, though whether I meant to give away something, meant to lend something, or did not mean to have it stolen from me makes a large difference in how I might perceive an expression of apology or gratitude. Likewise, an apology for 'borrowing without asking, with the item already being returned,' is very different than an apology for taking and using up one of my things with neither permission first nor with the slightest hint of an offer to replace it after."
"I'm not going to ask you to bring it to class, but those of you who journal, I suggest a page or so about a way that you were wronged recently, and if and how well they apologised, and what sort of apology you might have preferred. And then perhaps a page about the way you recently wronged someone, whether they accepted your apology, and what sort of apology you'd have preferred to have received in their place. This is the same assignment I am going to be giving to the rest of the class next week at this time. Depending on how well they seem to be paying attention that day, I might make it mandatory rather than a suggestion. Whatever. You have been warned."
Parchments and pens came out and recorded the assignment.
"For you, my advanced students, I'd like an essay from all of you, due with the chapter seven essay. About a well-known deadly conflict from history, and when and how the correct apology delivered at the correct time would have been the most effective at quieting the conflict. And why it was needed. I want you to conclude with a summary of whether states would be better served by thinking about their conflicts and treaties in terms of apologies, justice, obligations, and reparations, or whether private individuals ought to weigh apologies, the way Mr Potter claims to, by the strategic and tactical value of keeping and negotiating peace and treaties."
"Versus what?" said Finnegan.
"How many inches?" said Granger.
"How are these things measured around here?" said Justin.
"Inches of parchment," said Granger.
"Seems rather imprecise," said Justin, "What is standard?"
"About two inches per level, per week, until the assignment is due," Patil explained helpfully, "we're sixth years. That's twelve inches per week."
"But usually there are deductions from that number when there are going to be intervening assignments."
"Ah, yes," said Justin, "Let's set the minimum (and the suggested length) to 18 inches, with a maximum of 36, some wars are unusually complex, and I'll find it more interesting to grade if you are thorough enough that I can understand."
"Now then, Mr Finnegan, you had a question about how I wanted it concluded?"
"Uh? Oh! The value of keeping peace?" said Finnegan, "compared to what."
"Compared to leaving the aggressor alive to offend again," said Potter, "or compared to the cost of a protracted feud, if their relatives do not take kindly to you reorganising the gene pool."
"You don't get to make those decisions," said Granger.
"No," said Potter, "you don't have any choice but to make those decisions. Whenever you get the chance to defend yourself, (which thankfully is not often) it is your obligation to yourself and your family to try to survive, but it may also be your obligation to society to make sure certain elements of society do not survive."
Granger sighed, "None of the rest of us are Harry Potter, and unfairly pressured to act like the boy-who-lived or whatever. And you shouldn't be pressured like that either."
"You've got it backwards," said Harry, "We were all selected by inherited right or by treaty obligation to attend Hogwarts, some of us are Heads of House already, or are destined to become so sometime in our lives. We might not yet all speak and act as principal agents of our families, but someday we might need to carry those responsibilities. The Aurors are tasked with keeping the peace, but it is up to us to keep our families alive for the 40 minutes that it is likely to take them to arrive."
Granger sighed, "Do you realise that every time you say that, you're making everyone who hears you that much more curse-happy?"
"Yes," said Potter, "But I hope that all of you are smart enough to have gotten to that conclusion on your own. My point is that, given that anyone you might offend (or even merely scare) ought by logic to already be that curse-happy: you ought to be even more apology-ready than they are wand-ready."
"Precisely," whispered several of her neighbours.
"Oh," said Granger, "Intriguing."
"That's a lot to unpack," said Miss Brown.
Justin nodded and waited for the murmur to subside, then he cleared his throat, "Just don't be so quick to apologise nor so slow to listen, that you insist on apologising for something they don't care about, and never learn from them what offence they do want an apology about. The end goal of the apology is not only the settling of the debt but even more the restoration of humanity to both parties."
"What do you mean?"
"Finnegan and Potter may have implied it better than I usually can say it, but: When you are wronged, you are given justification to fear that you are not worth much to the offender and that they may continue to behave the same way or worse in the future.
"Likewise when the offender realises their mistake, or more sadly, when they recognise that their carelessness or selfishness has been caught, and the outstanding 'debt' may be endangering their health, safety, way of life, or reputation.
"If both are motivated to come to terms, and if there are terms acceptable to both to be found, and they are skilled enough negotiators to find those terms, then the treaty can be struck.
"The relationship, whatever it was before, whatever it might otherwise have become may be obliterated, or unrecognisable, the relationship established by the new terms offered and accepted may be different, might be much better, might be worse. The old trust whatever it was has been destroyed, perhaps with time a new trust can grow in its place."
"If one or the other is not willing to come to terms, or if no terms exist that satisfy both parties, perhaps no further relationship is possible. However, it is not possible to find that out without both parties communicating to explore the option space and negotiate.
"Be twice as ready to listen as to speak."
Someone smirked and said something snide about negotiations generally lasting until the more talkative one gave away enough vital information that the other party could concoct a deal they couldn't refuse.
Justin decided to ignore that, "Depending on the circumstances, the wronged party might be less worried about the wrong, whatever it is, being righted, and significantly more worried about whether the offender even realises that they exist or places any value on their existence or continuity, and have a perspective and preferences of their own.
"The offender similarly, if they knew the extent to which they've made their victim feel like a cornered rat, and as ready to lash out, might be willing to give up any advantage, much more than they gained by committing their offence, to never become targeted by the just wrath of the victim or the victim's defenders. The extent to which their disregard for the feelings of those around them makes them seem subhuman, makes them at least partly deserve the extent to which our instincts guide us to regard them as subhuman."
There was a vaguely logical amount of silence.
"Unfortunately," said Justin, "we rarely know how much we've hurt anyone unless we ask. Unless we listen. And hearing our mistakes is uncomfortable." He sighed, "But it is hard to learn to behave better, without knowing that there is a problem to start with."
He looked around, "does anyone wish to summarise?"
"If someone tries to start something: run away, if you can. if you started something: apologise, if you can, it might take several tries and lots of listening to get right."
Justin nodded, "There, that's the philosophy portion for today, let's cover some more practicalities:"
.
"Alright," Justin turned back to the group, then stepped out from behind the podium, "Why don't we go around the circle, and mention our favourite method of magically aided transportation, and our favourite method of neutralising a threat."
Several said brooms, several said floo travel, one said the knight bus, Patil and Potter said anchored portkeys.
Several said shield charms, several said various tongue-tying or silencing jinxes, and a few said animagus forms. Potter said the disarming charm. Parvati said the disillusionment charm.
For each Justin explained the strategy behind the choice, where he could guess it, and asked for clarification where he could not.
"Alright," said Justin, "I can tell by the level of boredom in here how thoroughly you've already covered escape strategies and transportation methods. Let's continue where you left off with chapter four, and maybe a bit later Potter and I will analyse what each of us would do if we were to find ourselves disarmed and speechless."
"They already know that about me," said Potter, "I've studied boxing and Kung Fu, and I can get into my animagus form without word or wand. You?"
"Judo, Bartitsu, Boyovyy Hopak, Lupte de Descântec, and several others."
Potter smiled, "How many years are you teaching here?"
"That is yet to be determined," said Justin.
"What are your rates to teach summer classes?" said Potter.
Justin raised an eyebrow.
"Classes from 10 am to 12 on weekdays, room and board will be provided, and something resembling office hours in the afternoon for those students who want to schedule time for more focused tuition."
"How many students?"
"About twenty-five, last year," said Potter.
"How many weeks?"
"From about two weeks after Hogwarts let out, until about three weeks before it started again."
So maybe five weeks. "I'll think about it," said Justin.
"With you-know-who gone, do you think there will be that many refugees, vigilantes, and groupies in such a hurry to stay at your place?" said one of the boys in green-trimmed robes.
"Temporarily gone again," said Harry, "But to answer your question: As usual, they may do as they please," said Harry, "I'm considering my hobbies and responsibilities here."
"Exactly," said Miss Patil.
"Hmm," said Justin, "Perhaps you-know-who is gone again, but have you considered how far you'd need to travel to run into a similarly powerful dark lord?"
That was the wrong thing to ask, it only brought up national and cultural prejudices, most of it a few decades out of date.
When that had stopped being useful, Justin stood, "Or a more pertinent question: how far might one need to travel to find a criminal organisation of reasonably similar size and capability?"
There were several answers, the most common answers were Moscow, Sicily, and London.
"Are we including or excluding vigilante groups?" said Mr Weasley.
"A very good question," said Justin.
"And are we discussing where their headquarters are, where claimed turf is, or how close known members are?" said Zabini, "Because if we go all the way to children of members of known criminal organisations, at least 8 gangs are represented here at Hogwarts."
"If we were to go a few generations back," said Potter, "and define things a bit more loosely, several of our family names represent clans and warriors who at one point or another conquered various parts of Britain. Which is to say, took parts of it away from others of our families. Yes, there are the Wizengamot treaties between us now to keep things civil. But to believe that there are no dark lords around, or that the very fabric of our society is not shaped by their influence in the past is to ignore most of our history."
"Someone got to Lord Potter with blood-traitor propaganda," sing-songed Miss Parkinson.
Potter nodded, "My father-in-law wished to make sure I understood what sort of opinions were held by the family I was allying with. And you know me, I'm a sucker for philosophical controversy."
"Right," said Justin, "But we're not here for philosophical controversy, we're here to defend ourselves, and therefore to know what we're up against. Mr Zabini's and Mr Potter's analyses are correct, there are parts of the world where the only law available is that enforced by the warlords, whether 'criminal' or 'state-sanctioned' makes little difference. If they consider themselves bound by the same law that they uphold, then so be it. If not, you'd better watch out. You'd better know where you are, and to the extent that it is possible, what the laws really are."
.
"Hello Warlock," said a warty little man in a green kimono.
Justin stared until the descriptions he'd memorised lined up.
"Hello Professor Snape. I take it that there are assigned seats?"
"There are claimed seats," said Snape, "Though they tend to shift around somewhat during major holidays."
There was definite hostility.
"Out with it," said Snape, "Don't make me read your mind."
"Do you and Potter share some kind of secret society around here?"
Snape raised an eyebrow, "Not as such, what have you noticed for you to guess that?"
"There's an unusual undertone to the magic around you and several of his clique that …"
Snape raised his left arm and pulled back his sleeve. "You can sense this?"
Justin expected to see the infamous dark mark, but the man's left wrist was bare, and the flavour of Potterness in the magic became stronger.
"Perhaps it's that," said Justin and focused in that direction, he wrinkled his nose, "There's a hint of dragon also? Just what kind of cult are you running?"
Snape snorted, "This year, Mr Potter reserved a Clan Suite for himself and his betrothed, and their clan members. He broke tradition and requested me for staff liaison and adviser in preference to Professor McGonagall, the head of his dorm. He gave me a magical trinket for communication and to let me past the wards he set up for his clan. You're probably sensing him and the other trinkets he made for his clan members."
"Oh, is that all," said Justin, "that's a significantly more benign form of secrecy than I was worrying about."
Snape shrugged.
"Perhaps if you could advise me where to sit?"
Snape sneered as if that request betrayed incredible idiocy.
"Or, to be more technical," said Justin, "Would you be willing to advise me where not to sit?"
"Not in either of the large chairs or the four chairs directly adjacent to them."
One of the large chairs was obviously for the headmaster or guest of honour, fair enough, therefore the adjacent would be for his closest advisers or assistants. The other large chair was not fit for a garden variety human. And the chairs adjacent to it were spaced a bit farther away.
Justin nodded, "Thanks for the warning,"
Snape smirked, "The answer you're looking for is the one on the corner there."
"Much obliged." (Was that so hard?) Justin went and sat down.
He was soon bracketed by two witches at least twice his age.
"Justin Warner," said Justin, "I'm the new defence professor."
"Unusually late for a defence professor," said the witch on his left, "I'm Professor Sinistra."
"I'm Pamona Sprout," said the other, "how were your travels?"
"Unusually fraught," said Justin, "Your embassy provided entirely inadequate paperwork for importing my demonstration collection of enchanted artefacts. Unfortunately, that did not become evident until I was stuck in customs with them, and no recourse to my normal lawyer team, and a strong desire not to leave them unattended in the hands of no-majs."
"Hmm," said Pamona Sprout.
"Some of them are … rather dangerous without someone qualified to reverse their effects quickly."
"I'm sure," said Sinistra, "I'm surprised that you didn't just confund or obliviate your way past them."
"Given the certifications I have, and the government contracts I currently hold or have previously worked under, that sort of violation to the border defence of a sovereign nation could be considered both an act of war and an act of espionage."
"Not that anyone could have noticed," said Sinistra.
"True, but comparing the possibility of deteriorated relations between the UK and about a third of NATO, a few days to a few weeks of personal inconvenience seemed … a bit disproportional."
"What's NATO again?" said Sinistra.
"What indeed," sighed Justin and rubbed his forehead.
"If you were going to advise your past self what to do differently?" said Pamona Sprout, "What would you say?"
"Ship my teaching materials ahead with a qualified courier, at least six weeks in advance, leaving me free to run back and forth between my lawyer team, and my contacts in the ICW and the British consulate."
"Hmm," said Pamona Sprout, "Well, I'm glad you've arrived in one piece."
"Thank you," said Justin.
.
"What can you tell me about Harry Potter."
"He's … a somewhat steady worker, but has no interest nor talent for astronomy. And Parvati's talents are entirely wasted on him."
Ok, wow.
"He's an avid gardener, though not as intuitively skilled as Miss Weasley," said Pamona Sprout, "Though given the family connections, it's hard to guess whether Miss Weasley's skills are innate or trained."
"I … seem to be lost," said Justin.
Pamona glared, "And both their talents are entirely wasted on the Patils."
Ok, ok, wow. Let's settle down.
Sinistra sighed, "This is why I try to maintain a no-gossiping-about-students policy."
"So their talents don't align," said Justin, "What's new?"
Sinistra sighed, "Parvati is not just talented, she … well she's one of the best applicants to the festival magic class we've had in years, maybe in decades."
Pamona's face got red and she looked away.
Right, this was Britain, where ritual magic idiotically got categorised as dark arts.
"Ah!" said Justin, "I shall try to keep in mind that she's so formidable, who is Miss Weasley, and what's her connection to the other two?"
Pamona tapped his elbow and pointed.
It appeared that when Potter's clique was not segregated by form to attend classes, there were additional members. And one fawned on Potter's arm even more affectionately than Parvati did.
It would be interesting to see her in action, she had the size to either be a large slow target or an unstoppable one. And if the stereotype held about redheads being fiery…
.
When Justin arrived at his first afternoon class, someone had already unlocked the door, and eight of his students were inside. Two were huddled over in the corner talking animatedly in very low tones. They stopped when they saw him.
They turned to watch him approach the student desk directly beside the podium that he'd used during the previous class, he moved the offending book bag one desk over and sat down. He surveyed the students here so far.
"Then, I think it has become irrelevant," said the black-haired boy.
The strawberry blond nodded, "seems to be."
Justin checked, someone had taken control of the piste wards while he was gone. He took them back. The strawberry blond flinched.
Two more students entered and looked vaguely lost, but took seats anyway.
"I take it that this is one of the classes that comes with a TA?"
No one seemed to know the answer to that.
"Teacher's assistant?"
The strawberry blond smiled smugly.
And everyone except the two latest students and the boy standing beside her pointed at the strawberry blond.
"Good to know," said Justin with a welcoming smile.
He checked his watch, "In three more minutes I will begin calling roll, please choose your seats and occupy them."
The strawberry blond retrieved her book bag and moved three seats down to his other side. Sitting beside her friend was more important than sitting beside the teacher.
Good. Just as it should be.
.
The strawberry blond's first friend was Hanna Abbot, the strawberry blond was Susan Bones, her black-haired assistant was Michael Corner, and the strawberry blond's other friend was yet another Miss Patil. How daunting.
Justin wasn't quite sure if they were identical twins or mirror twins, and wasn't going to ask. It wasn't any of his business, and twins often got too much gawking as it was.
"Alright," said Justin when he had finished calling roll and giving his introductory speech, "Susan would you like to explain what you've covered with the class already?"
"We've just finished chapter 3."
"Excellent," said Justin, "And you didn't perchance skip chapter 1?"
"No!" said Miss Bones, "It's super important!"
"It certainly is," agreed Justin, "I only ask because, in my other sixth form class, Harry Potter skipped it, with plans to return to it between chapters seven and eight."
Miss Bones gave him a look of extreme confusion.
"That is what I thought," said Justin, "but he seems to have managed a much higher student retention rate, but I have a vague feeling that is only half due to his teaching style."
"And the other half?"
"Hmm, a cult of personality?"
Miss Bones nodded, "Yeah, he has that going for him."
"I am tempted," said Justin, "to let you continue one more lesson in your usual format, to see how things go. On the one hand, I am responsible for teaching you all, and intend to see that through. On the other, I'm always looking for ways to improve my craft and I'm very interested to see, how you've been managing so far without me. Perhaps we'll continue in your style, or perhaps I will incorporate aspects of it into my own style going forward."
Susan sighed.
"If you are willing, I'll put it to a vote."
The vote was eight to two in favour of letting Susan continue.
It was an interesting class, everyone used first names, and the discussion circle of desks was no accident. Susan hosted a very productive discussion circle.
When it was time to wrap up, Justin stood, "I am impressed. If I didn't know better I would have expected this event to be entirely composed of students about three years older than yourselves. Traditionally NEWT classes are when students and teachers begin to be able to treat each other as true colleagues, but what I just witnessed surpassed what I had hoped for in my seventh form students. Congratulations."
One of the two students who had come to hear a lecture, not a student discussion circle raised her hand, "Are you saying that all seventh-year classes are like this?"
Justin nodded, "Not every class period follows this precise format, sometimes I will lecture, and sometimes one of you will, but on the whole, Yes, discussion circles will become more and more common. Once you are adults, you can and should expect academic meetings to be led by your colleagues for your colleagues. Presenters wishing to share their knowledge and get feedback on their discoveries, for other like-minded professionals wishing to top up their knowledge in the field. Not by 'an adult who knows everything in the curriculum' for 'children who don't yet'. Etc."
"Any more questions, before I dismiss you to your next period?"
"Is the first chapter your favourite chapter?"
"Not at all," said Justin, "but it is the most important. My favourite chapter is chapter nine: Enchanted Artefacts."
.
...-...
{End Chapter 10}
A/N: This last chapter is another one that deserves to be tightened up some more, but I don't have the emotional endurance to go further right now.