So...I'm not dead, in case anyone was wondering.
Since giving the students smart phones for communication, there have been a few incidents of confused phone numbers while they get used to texting and using a touch screen. More than once, Darcy has had a student accidentally text her instead of the intended recipient. This has led to some rather interesting conversations. One such incident happens while she's writing the potion instructions for today's class on the phone's screen lights up, and she pauses to glance over at the new message. What she reads makes her snort.
Seamus: hey Dean I have a question for you, you know that Snape is always wearing completely black robes. Do you think even his underwear is black?
Darcy stops and thinks before deciding on her reply.
Darcy: I think you may have texted the wrong number, Seamus. This is Darcy.
The three dots dance at the bottom of her screen, and she watches to see how Seamus will respond after knowing he accidentally texted her, not his friend.
Seamus: oops! sorry, prof! but uh..for the sake of a bet,?
She laughs at his response and debates how inappropriate it would be to answer him. Eventually she settles on her response.
Darcy: I see. While I'm not thrilled there's such a bet going around...yeah, he always wears black. Only time he hasn't was when he lost a bet.
She receives a reply almost instantly.
Student: BLOODY HELL! Wait... what did he wear when he lost the bet...? You know what, this never happened and I don't know anything about Snape's underwear.
Darcy: Now, the real question here is why students are discussing what their professor is wearing. I suggest you put an end to that bet immediately before someone more...strict finds out.
With this, Darcy returns to writing, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She knew that giving teenaged students access to texting and social media would lead to interesting situations, but perhaps it's time she and Jarvis go back over the safety protocols in place. She's done her best to put in place safe guards for these students browsing the internet for the first time, but even she couldn't have predicted what sort of conversations would be shared through texts.
She manages to finish up her task as the last of the fourth years trickle in for class.
When first asked if she'd be willing to substitute for her husband's class, Darcy had blinked and stared at him with disbelief.
"Seriously? But I'm not even good at baking, and that's like basically the same thing, isnt' it?" She had asked with a laugh.
"Yes, but you've heard me discuss the theories enough times to practically write my lesson plans at this point. You can make simple potions if you try. If the potion for a particular lesson is too difficult, you can turn it into a review day, and I'll adjust my schedule accordingly. If I'm gone for longer than a couple days, then I'll find another substitute for them long-term. Lord knows that slug would be pleased as punch to ruin my students with his outdated techniques," he'd pleaded, muttering with disdain that last sentence with close to a pout.
She'd made a fake pained expression before agreeing, and the rest some may say is history.
Of course, she'd always thought that was more of a theoretical situation when she'd agree, and now she's stuck actually standing in front of Severus' classroom with a room of confused students whispering amongst themselves.
"So, ahem," she starts, "unless you haven't heard, my husband — the apparent, 'greasy' bat of the dungeon, if I've heard correctly – is currently off-grounds right now and unable to teach today. So, I'm your very-not greasy, but well shampoo'd and condition'd thank-you-very-much substitute teacher."
This shuts the class right up, and suddenly all eyes are on her.
A wave of hands shoots up. She chooses the student in the front, knowing his question will likely be along the same topic as everyone else's.
"Uh, Professor, I heard you're not really good at potions, even calling it that 'magical brewing thing' when you interrupted Professor Snape that first day. How are you our substitute?" Neville asks, confusion clear in everyone's gazes. She mentally cringes that such specific details have been shared across the castle. Of course, she's known that her appearance caused a stir, but she hasn't thought about just how noisy a shitton of students in a magical school can be. Honestly, the rumor mills in this place are fucking rampant.
"Good question. I'll admit I'm not the best when it comes to brewing things myself, but I've seen enough potion brewing to see when others have made a mistake. Plus, Severus has shown me exactly what you'll be making today. I've written today's potion on the board, so get to it!"
With a flurry of whispers, the students get up to gather supplies for the instructions written on the board. Darcy sits back and watches them buzz around.
As the class goes on, she remembers her husband's advice and keeps an especially close eye on two specific Gryffindors. The longer she watches, she sees firsthand how correct her husband was about Neville's true lack of skills with potionry. She's got to give the kid kudos for being so persistent in studying the trade, but even she can see he has no talent for it. The same can unfortunately be said of another student, Ronald Weasley. Both of them seem to struggle through the entirety of class. But she's heard plenty about Neville's almost mutant-level aptitude for herbology and Ron's talent with sports, so she's not really worried about their grades. She just makes sure to stay on standby near their seats in case anything explodes.
She's dealt with enough SCIENCE! experiments gone wrong at this point that nothing phases her, so when their potions eventually go sideways, she handles it with ease. Really, teaching at magic school is just like keeping an eye on her ragtag scientists amid a SCIENCE! Binge, one just needs to be prepared to put out fires (sometimes literally) and ensure their safety.
The rest of class goes otherwise smoothly, and Darcy considers it a win in her book.
Time passes quickly after that and before they know it, the first task is upon them.
November 24, 2014 ends up being a Monday of all days.
Her normal schedule is Tuesdays and Thursdays at the castle, but with the first task falling on a Monday, she makes an edit to her usual schedule. For all her objections to the tournament, she refuses to miss it.
The first task is scheduledafter lunchtime, but classes carry on as though it were any boring Monday, something Darcy finds truly weird. Who the fuck do they think is going to be paying any attention class when the first task of a tournament which hasn't been put on for years is later that day? Seriously, on top of literally every other stupid thing with this fucking tournament, they decided a fucking Monday afternoon was the best fucking time. Awesome.
Somehow, because of the amazing ability to get shit done while things are going batshit around her – courtesy of being around Jane for so long, she manages to get some of her job done.
Still, by the time everyone begins to trickle over to the arena for the first task, she's a bundle of nerves. She hikes up the stairs to the professor viewing area and barely notices the climb, her mind racing with all the possibilities this whole shenanigan could go wrong.
The stands are alive with excitement. If she weren't so well-trained at managing intake, Darcy would be overwhelmed with overstimulation from all the electrical energy humming around her. She had thought the arrival of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had been intense, but the energy today as they await the beginning of the first task tops that rush by a mile. It doesn't help that she's found magical folk have a far stronger energy than non-magical people, so even living in New York could barely have prepared her for this.
She takes a minute to catalogue the arena, and what she finds worries her even more. The arena is a deep pit lined with jaggedrocks. Boulders of all sizes litter the bottom, and in the middle of the arena sits a large nest full of eggs, among them one golden egg shining prominently against the others.
When the details of the first task are announced, Darcy isn't sure whether her heart sinks to the bottom of her stomach or leaves her body completely.
Dragons. Real-life, fire-breathing dragons. What the actual. Fuck.
Even though she is resolutely against this whole affair, a small part of her can't help but share in the buzz of childish anticipation. Sure, aliens are real and all that, but dragons are a whole different matter entirely. The average rando from New York has seen plenty of aliens at this point, but dragons are still considered mythical, definitely not real creatures. And Darcy is about to see them with her own eyes.
However, another larger and particularly annoyed part of Darcy overshadows this amazed wonder. She's fairly sure the nature of this task has been kept hidden from her and Severus by a certain twinkly-eyed headmaster specifically because he knows she absolutely would have objected if given any sort of head's up. She also knows that at least some of the other professors have been given some kind of notice ahead of time, given their blatant lack of shock upon hearing the announcement of today's task. Especially her absolute favorite coworker, Alastor. She side-eyes him up and down with narrows eyes, infinitely glad her itching powder and glitter still manages to irritate him to this very second. Not even all the cleaning spells in the world can hold a candle to the eternal nuisance of glitter. Biodegradable, of course.
Next to her, Severus is decidedly even less excited about the whole affair than her. Not even the prospect of seeing the magical creatures can pull the scowl from his face. Sure, part of his mood can be attributed to caring about student safety and all that, but she also knows he's just annoyed to be here when he'll likely have to do some sneaky life-saving shit to keep Harry (or really any of the champions) safe. They'd agreed the night before that he'd be jump in if things truly became dangerous for the students. Sure, the others competing are technically "adults" in the eyes of Wizard law, butthis could go south real fast with dragons involved. They both agree Severus may be the only one with reflexes and training to deal with it.
It's not long before the first dragon is brought out, and Darcy can't help but scoff at the flimsy safety precaution of a chain (albeit a seemingly thick and strong one) keeping the dragon from soaring away. There's absolutely no possible way this could go wrong.
Once the dragon is "secured," thefirst champion enters the arena, and the Tournament officially begins.
She sends a quick prayer to Loki to stay the fuck away from this arena and to not make this ridiculousness even worse. But some she doubts even the Trickster, wherever his royal ass may be, would be willing to touch this particular brand of crazy with a Rainbow Bridge length stick.
Darcy clutches her husband's hand in an iron grip as Cedric begins to face off against his dragon. The Hufflepuff is clever, and he manages to transfigure a rock into a dog as a distraction for the dragon. However, turns out dragons are very similar to literally any other mother and remains cautious, guarding her nest with all the instincts of a protective mother. Noticing this behavior, another part of Darcy can't help but hate this blasted task even more for forcing what seems to be a mother watching over her young to entertain them.
"Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow!" the announcer comments when Cedric manages to dodge behind a rock just in time to miss the dragon's gaze."He's taking risks, this one!"
The dog only works as a distraction for so long before Cedric has regained her attention, and before anyone react, the dragon has spewed dragon fire at the student. Again, it's a narrow miss, and Darcy is practically breaking Severus' hand with how tightly she's gripped it. Unfortunately, Cedric's luck runs out, and the dragon fire manages to catch him. Somehow, he still manages to get the dragon egg before being whisked off to the infirmary while the crowd cheers for him.
Darcy almost gets up to go after him but remains seated when she sees that the next dragon is being led out to the arena, and she's reminded this is just the beginning. She knows that Cedric's Head of House has already gone down to keep him company, so she stays to watch the next champion.
Fleur fairs marginally better than Cedric in completing her task. She manages to cast a spell that puts the dragon to sleep, but while sleeping, the creature's snore catches the edges of her robe on fire. Thankfully, it seems like the dragon fire doesn't do much physical harm, and she manages to finish without being taken to the infirmary with the same level of haste as the first champion.
Viktor aims a spell at his dragon's eyes that irritates its eyes, causing them to swell up and shut. While the dragon is flailing around, he sneaks past and successfully snatches his golden egg without injury.
Darcy breathes a sigh of relief that at least one student is unharmed after their challenge.
That relief lasts for about one second before she remembers that the youngest champion still needs to go, and her anxiety catapults to an eleven on a ten-point scale.
The fourth year walks out, and the crowd roars with commotion.
For a second, Harry stands there and takes it all in.
Once his eyes land on the golden egg, nestled among the others, he begins to take a step towards them only to be met with the dragon landing directly to his side, nearly sweeping him with its tail. He misses by a fraction, and he's able to run towards a boulder. Darcy narrows her eyes as this dragon seems a step more aggressive than the other champions' dragons, actively going towards him rather than staying close to her nest.
"I'm not crazy, right? His dragon is worse than the others," she hisses to Severus beside her. He hums in response.
"The Hungarian Horntail does tend to be a more excitable breed. Plus, you've noticed it by now: they're all nesting mothers. You know how protective other creatures are with their young," he comments, his eyes scanning the arena as Harry dodges yet another close encounter.
Darcy nearly leaps from the stands when she watches dragon fire barely miss the fourth champion. The only thing holding her back is the fact that he's still unharmed and the knowledge that any movement at this point would have her no doubt restrained by a spell from Dumbles for attempting to intervene. It's never been explicitly stated, but she knows that her history of being wildly outspoke against the Tournament has bought her no favors in the old wizard's eyes, and he will not sit idly by should she attempt to interrupt things at this stage. The headmaster has let his other student nearly get burned to a crisp without so much as a flinch towards his wand, so she has no doubts that he'll let this carry happily on.
When Harry raises his arm, Darcy can just barely make out the wand movement as being a summoning movement. With a sinking feeling, she watches as his broom tears into the arena to hover beside the boy. She watches as he swings a leg over the broom and begins to rise.
As soon as Harry has mounted his broom, it becomes clear to Darcy that this is it. This is his big plan to evade the dragon. Great. Amazing. Very thorough and honestly as safe a plan as she'd figured a fourteen-year-old would come up with. She'll give him props for coming up with a theoretically safe idea, if you know, it wasn't against a fucking dragon with wings.
Honestly, as soon as Darcy had known there would be dragons involved, she'd also known the possibility of danger would skyrocket. Turns out, even knowing this, she has underestimated how ridiculous this could get. She'd hoped the kid would think of something deescalating like making the dragon sleepy like Fleur had. Really, something that doesn't involve becoming the target of being chased by a motherfucking dragon.
As Harry rises higher into the air, the dragon takes flight to follow him, having finally tired of this invader coming for her young. And, oh, wow, who could have predicted this? The chains holding her down break almost instantly from the force of her power. The planning committee really should have known when planning this task: never get between a mother and her babies. A mother's love is one of the strongest forces in the world, and they've tempted fate today.
Before Darcy can stand in shock, Severus has pulled his wand out and is hissing a summoning spell for his own broom. Barely two seconds later, his broom is soaring towards him. He must have prepared for the event to go airborne and stashed his broom somewhere moment, her husband is standing next to her and the next he's reaching up his hand to catch his broom mid-air. In a single motion, he manages to pull himself up and onto his broom while it's still moving forward.
She runs to the ledge of the stands and watches her husband fly off.
Around her, onlookers follow Harry's form as it whips away, paying no mind to her husband's sudden show of athleticism.
Darcy's nails dig into the railing as she watches her husband keep pace with the dragon and student as they climb through the air and out of the stadium. She curses that she can't follow and keeps her eyes trained on their figures slowing shrinking in the distance.
Well, there you have it! The first task has started. It only took 4+ years.
If anyone is still reading this, I'd love to know your thoughts!
~stars
