I'll Make A (Wo)Man Out of You pt 1
I had several ideas for where to go with the Mist Shrikes-HP thing, but this omake was the one that really kept burning in my brain.
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I'll Make A (Wo)Man Out of You pt 1
Harry was of two minds about Professor DADA-Severus (the distinction was necessary, as despite superficial similarities in demeanor in practice they could not be further apart). One the one hand, they spoke to him on a deep level, and every time he started flagging he remembered flashes of green and a body in a cemetery, pushing farther and faster than he thought possible.
On the other, the lessons hurt. Really hurt. And while it was interesting learning about first aid and triage, he couldn't really deny that the Professor seemed like a sadist.
Rumor had gotten around that, true to his word, any student who was late would teach. The very first lesson had seen Clarice Marianna, a 3rd year Hufflepuff, driven through the obstacle course like a fox before hounds for being three minutes late. Supposedly, it was the most terrifying thing any of them had ever seen - a 13-year old girl, too out of breath to properly scream in terror, pursued by a giant in midnight-blue armored robes who not only spoke not a single word, but took regular swipes with that serrated staff that only barely missed as she dodged and scrambled. And for all the noise the Professor himself did not make, the staff was enspelled to scream and howl in grinding tones as it savaged the air, with an illusion of blurring around the teeth to make it seem like they moved.
Harry would not be surprised if almost everybody's Boggarts changed to some variation of Professor DADA-Severus.
It had also been noted that as of now - the first class after the end of the promised third week - no one had ever seen Professor DADA-Deverus cast a spell or even show his wand. It only added to the rumors, that he had mastered not merely wordless but the legendary wandless magic and could curse you with a glance before you even knew he was casting.
That had set the tone for those first three weeks. No spellwork, no readings or discussion, just grinding physical exercise and enough non-magical medical treatment to get them to either their next class or the Hospital Wing. This had led to a rumor that the Professor was a master Legilimancer, and could tell if you were lying simply by being near you; anybody who tried to slack off got the same treatment as poor Clarice, or even worse.
Umbridge avoided him like the plague; to hear Fred & George tell it, when she'd tried to audit his class he had picked her up by the scruff of her cardigan's collar, seized her wand when she tried to hex him, dragged her into the supply closet, and five minutes later she came out at a dead sprint and never returned. Supposedly the Professor still had her wand.
Practically every other professor had had words with him, some very loudly. McGonagall had gotten into a shouting match with him that had led to resounding Scottish brogue bouncing off the walls and insults vile enough to make Hermione green. Supposedly Professors Sprout and Snape were trying to poison him.
Professor DADA-Severus was arguably more feared than Voldemort. Respected by many, especially the Beaters of the assorted Quidditch teams who had taken to his lessons on club fighting with a vengeance, but always feared.
Which all led to today. Apparently, a deal had been struck; one DADA lesson in the Great Hall for the week, all students, and the Professors in attendance. Harry wasn't sure of the details, but something was going to happen afterwards to decide whether the Professor would remain afterwards.
The Professor had significantly altered the Hall, with a large ovoid area surrounded by stands so everyone could get a good look. Along one side of the makeshift arena were several wood dummies, the kind used by Professor Flitwick in later years to teach the basics of dueling to whoever was interested. Next to them was a table with what Harry immediately recognized as several forms of guns, including one absolutely massive pistol he'd never seen before. To the other side was a mannequin, clad in an odd form of armor that looked vaguely similar to what he'd seen riot police wear one time.
When everyone had gathered, Professor DADA-Severus stepped up to the stage, and began to speak.
"The end of the three weeks of lenience I offered you has come. Some of you have learned, and learned well. Some of you have learned poorly, but learned nevertheless and are worth teaching. Some of you are just as great a fool as you were when we started, certain that if only you could endure long enough someone would come to save you from your incompetence."
He gazed slowly around the crowd as he said this, and it seemed his eyes met Harry's for a moment. It sent an electric shiver down his spine as his instincts prodded him to arm himself.
"Not necessarily a wrong theoretical, but a very piss-poor foundation for how you will plan and act. And that is what this lesson will address."
He turned to the table and picked up the smallest of the guns - a revolver, and one small enough to look tiny in his hands, tiny enough that it had an obviously enlarged grip and trigger.
"It has come to my attention that there is a faction of wizards and witches calling themselves 'Death Eaters'. They preach about blood superiority and the 'right' of 'betters' to kill and torture those of lesser purity for profit and sport. As a Muggle myself, I take exception to this."
If silence could actually have a sound, Harry imagined this would be what it sounded like - thick, heavy, and stagnant with uncomprehending shock. As the rustling and choking for words began, the Professor cut them off once more.
"Save your questions for later, children - for now, all you need to know is this. They attempted to use the typical methods of keeping the Statute of Secrecy intact when I discovered the Wizarding World. They failed. My tenure here as a professor is the compromised result of that.
The lesson today is a demonstration of the sin of Pride, and its counteractive virtue of Humility."
-----------------------------------------
With a click, he expertly flicked open the revolver and began slowly loading it with bullets.
"Pride, at its core, is a form of lying - specifically, a lie where your internal self-image does not match the objective reality of who you are. Most are familiar with the 'upwards' form where you believe yourself stronger, faster, more intelligent, more virtuous and so forth than you really are. But it can also be found in a 'downwards' form, believing that you are weaker, slower, dumber, more sinful and in doing so believe yourself to be a greater detriment to the world around you than is true.
Humility is not the opposite of pride - it is the antithesis, a state of being where so long as it is maintained Pride can have no hold on you in any capacity. With the information you have been given, can anyone tell me what Humility consists of?"
Predictably, Hermione raised her hand. "Humility would be rejecting lies and embracing honesty, Professor."
"Wrong." He waited for a moment for the murmurs of surprise to dwindle. "Anyone else?"
Ernie Macmillian raised his. "It's about being true to who you are and not letting other people lead you astray."
"Wrong."
Mandy Brocklehurst was next. "It's keeping yourself grounded in the real world, instead of getting lost in fantasies."
"Wrong."
Three more students made an attempt, and all three failed. "Are you having us on, Professor?! We're not idiots, all those answers were right!" Draco shouted with support from other students.
"This is not a philosophy class, Malfoy. This is Defence Against The Dark Arts. Incomplete answers are the same as no answers, for what you don't know will kill you. If you are lucky, that is all it will do. Next."
Students whispered to each other, and Harry noticed that Professor Snape was gazing very intently at Professor DADA-Severus. He seemed almost...hungry?
"If I cannot get a correct, complete answer within the next five minutes, you will all fail your class."
The shouting was uproarius, for all of the three seconds it took the Professor to raise the pistol and empty the magazine. As the thunderous roars died away, he began reloading in silence.
Eventually, another hand was raised. "Zabini, what is your answer to the nature of Humility?"
"Humility is when you make your internal self-image match your objective capabilities."
The silence stretched out for almost twenty seconds. Harry was forced to concede Seamus' point from the feast as the Professor eyed the crowd - Professor DADA-Severus had a flair for the dramatic.
"Correct. 10 points to Slytherin for the correct answer, and another 10 points for learning from others' mistakes. Shield Charm #1."
Before anyone could interrupt, the Professor turned and emptied the cylinder into the nearest dummy, which had sprung up a Shield Charm at his command. It resisted four shots before the fifth shattered it and the sixth blasted a splintered crater in the oakwood.
"I confess that I am the very model of a modern modified Muggle, and that there are very few like me. But weapons like this Enfield No. 2 Revolver firearm are extremely common - even children train with them or something like them. And for all the magical methods you might have, the simple fact is that the Death Eaters would never win a war against the mundane world. A beginner's shield charm cannot resist the full might of even one of these weapons, and they are amongst the least of their kind."
He placed it down and picked up another, this one a larger revolver though still small in his hands.
"This one is a Smith and Wesson 44 - less common, but much stronger and still prevalent in many areas. Shield Charm #2." The next dummy only lasted for one shot - the second broke the shield and bounced off the head leaving a scorch mark, followed by the third blasting a bigger crater than the first gun and rocking the dummy on its stand.
"This is a Benelli M4 Shotgun, chambered in what Muggles call '12 gauge', one of the most common types. Shield Charm #3." The first shot went through the Shield and flattened against the enchanted wood. The rest left it a ruined mess and slammed it to the floor.
"This is the infamous Enfield L85A1 rifle, regarded by many as the worst of the worst. Its equivalent is the back-alley wand of unknown origins you buy in a hag's market that is just as likely to kill you as cast a spell properly. Shield Charm #4." Harry vaguely recognized the firing pattern as "automatic" and the cries of fear and dismay from the stands as it unleashed eleven shots in less than a second before jamming - and still gutting the dummy - were intense.
"These are a selection of only four of the many, many, many weapons that Muggles have created. They are everywhere, and easily attainable. And this does not account for the equally varied alchemical reagents and stranger tools they have created."
Placing the rifle back on the table, he turned to the crowd with a raised eyebrow.
"Your lesson today is a pass-fail. Only one person needs to pass for all the classes to pass. Should that happen, all students will receive an O for this lesson and the next three weeks will have one reading assignment per week requiring three foot essays each, and nothing more. Should no one pass, you will all receive a T for the class."
-----------------------------------------
Professor DADA-Severus was entirely unfazed by the cacophony of objections, only responding when they quieted down almost a minute later. He then procurred a large hourglass from within his robes, and started the sands running.
It was another thirty or so seconds of arguing and complaining before a shout of "Professor! Professor!" called loud enough for everyone to turn to Neville, who was furiously waving his hand. Professor DADA-Severus motioned to him.
"Professor, you haven't told us what the lesson is."
"You are correct. Consider what I have told you."
...
...
...
"You've told us that todays lesson is Pride and Humility, and you demonstrated that Shield Charms can't stand up to Muggle firelegs."
"Firearms, Longbottom, but in essence that is correct. So what is the task you must fulfill?"
Neville opened his mouth to answer, then paused and turned to Luna who was next to him. After a hurried whispered conversation, Neville turned away and to everyone's surprise, started making his way down to the arena. When he reached the Professor, he stopped and started to speak several times, wilting under the truly malevolent-seeming glare of the Professor.
Eventually, in a cracking voice, Neville asked "Is that suit of armor over on the mannequin proof against firearms?"
"It is resistant, Longbottom. Nothing is a truly proof defense."
"...then...then..."
"Speak up, boy. Or have you none of the courage your House is known for?"
"I challenge you to a duel of Firearms vs Shield Charms!"
"You think you can defend against the same weapons the venerable dueling dummies of this castle, older than you are, failed to contest?"
"Yeah, I do! Same weapons, same number of attacks, you aim for the chest, and I get to wear that armor! If I'm still standing when all the shots are fired, then I win and you pass everyone!"
"Accepted, with the caveat that if you fail, you will either concede defeat or start over from the beginning."
--------------------------
To Be Continued...
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I'll Make A (Wo)Man Out of You pt 1
Harry was of two minds about Professor DADA-Severus (the distinction was necessary, as despite superficial similarities in demeanor in practice they could not be further apart). One the one hand, they spoke to him on a deep level, and every time he started flagging he remembered flashes of green and a body in a cemetery, pushing farther and faster than he thought possible.
On the other, the lessons hurt. Really hurt. And while it was interesting learning about first aid and triage, he couldn't really deny that the Professor seemed like a sadist.
Rumor had gotten around that, true to his word, any student who was late would teach. The very first lesson had seen Clarice Marianna, a 3rd year Hufflepuff, driven through the obstacle course like a fox before hounds for being three minutes late. Supposedly, it was the most terrifying thing any of them had ever seen - a 13-year old girl, too out of breath to properly scream in terror, pursued by a giant in midnight-blue armored robes who not only spoke not a single word, but took regular swipes with that serrated staff that only barely missed as she dodged and scrambled. And for all the noise the Professor himself did not make, the staff was enspelled to scream and howl in grinding tones as it savaged the air, with an illusion of blurring around the teeth to make it seem like they moved.
Harry would not be surprised if almost everybody's Boggarts changed to some variation of Professor DADA-Severus.
It had also been noted that as of now - the first class after the end of the promised third week - no one had ever seen Professor DADA-Deverus cast a spell or even show his wand. It only added to the rumors, that he had mastered not merely wordless but the legendary wandless magic and could curse you with a glance before you even knew he was casting.
That had set the tone for those first three weeks. No spellwork, no readings or discussion, just grinding physical exercise and enough non-magical medical treatment to get them to either their next class or the Hospital Wing. This had led to a rumor that the Professor was a master Legilimancer, and could tell if you were lying simply by being near you; anybody who tried to slack off got the same treatment as poor Clarice, or even worse.
Umbridge avoided him like the plague; to hear Fred & George tell it, when she'd tried to audit his class he had picked her up by the scruff of her cardigan's collar, seized her wand when she tried to hex him, dragged her into the supply closet, and five minutes later she came out at a dead sprint and never returned. Supposedly the Professor still had her wand.
Practically every other professor had had words with him, some very loudly. McGonagall had gotten into a shouting match with him that had led to resounding Scottish brogue bouncing off the walls and insults vile enough to make Hermione green. Supposedly Professors Sprout and Snape were trying to poison him.
Professor DADA-Severus was arguably more feared than Voldemort. Respected by many, especially the Beaters of the assorted Quidditch teams who had taken to his lessons on club fighting with a vengeance, but always feared.
Which all led to today. Apparently, a deal had been struck; one DADA lesson in the Great Hall for the week, all students, and the Professors in attendance. Harry wasn't sure of the details, but something was going to happen afterwards to decide whether the Professor would remain afterwards.
The Professor had significantly altered the Hall, with a large ovoid area surrounded by stands so everyone could get a good look. Along one side of the makeshift arena were several wood dummies, the kind used by Professor Flitwick in later years to teach the basics of dueling to whoever was interested. Next to them was a table with what Harry immediately recognized as several forms of guns, including one absolutely massive pistol he'd never seen before. To the other side was a mannequin, clad in an odd form of armor that looked vaguely similar to what he'd seen riot police wear one time.
When everyone had gathered, Professor DADA-Severus stepped up to the stage, and began to speak.
"The end of the three weeks of lenience I offered you has come. Some of you have learned, and learned well. Some of you have learned poorly, but learned nevertheless and are worth teaching. Some of you are just as great a fool as you were when we started, certain that if only you could endure long enough someone would come to save you from your incompetence."
He gazed slowly around the crowd as he said this, and it seemed his eyes met Harry's for a moment. It sent an electric shiver down his spine as his instincts prodded him to arm himself.
"Not necessarily a wrong theoretical, but a very piss-poor foundation for how you will plan and act. And that is what this lesson will address."
He turned to the table and picked up the smallest of the guns - a revolver, and one small enough to look tiny in his hands, tiny enough that it had an obviously enlarged grip and trigger.
"It has come to my attention that there is a faction of wizards and witches calling themselves 'Death Eaters'. They preach about blood superiority and the 'right' of 'betters' to kill and torture those of lesser purity for profit and sport. As a Muggle myself, I take exception to this."
If silence could actually have a sound, Harry imagined this would be what it sounded like - thick, heavy, and stagnant with uncomprehending shock. As the rustling and choking for words began, the Professor cut them off once more.
"Save your questions for later, children - for now, all you need to know is this. They attempted to use the typical methods of keeping the Statute of Secrecy intact when I discovered the Wizarding World. They failed. My tenure here as a professor is the compromised result of that.
The lesson today is a demonstration of the sin of Pride, and its counteractive virtue of Humility."
-----------------------------------------
With a click, he expertly flicked open the revolver and began slowly loading it with bullets.
"Pride, at its core, is a form of lying - specifically, a lie where your internal self-image does not match the objective reality of who you are. Most are familiar with the 'upwards' form where you believe yourself stronger, faster, more intelligent, more virtuous and so forth than you really are. But it can also be found in a 'downwards' form, believing that you are weaker, slower, dumber, more sinful and in doing so believe yourself to be a greater detriment to the world around you than is true.
Humility is not the opposite of pride - it is the antithesis, a state of being where so long as it is maintained Pride can have no hold on you in any capacity. With the information you have been given, can anyone tell me what Humility consists of?"
Predictably, Hermione raised her hand. "Humility would be rejecting lies and embracing honesty, Professor."
"Wrong." He waited for a moment for the murmurs of surprise to dwindle. "Anyone else?"
Ernie Macmillian raised his. "It's about being true to who you are and not letting other people lead you astray."
"Wrong."
Mandy Brocklehurst was next. "It's keeping yourself grounded in the real world, instead of getting lost in fantasies."
"Wrong."
Three more students made an attempt, and all three failed. "Are you having us on, Professor?! We're not idiots, all those answers were right!" Draco shouted with support from other students.
"This is not a philosophy class, Malfoy. This is Defence Against The Dark Arts. Incomplete answers are the same as no answers, for what you don't know will kill you. If you are lucky, that is all it will do. Next."
Students whispered to each other, and Harry noticed that Professor Snape was gazing very intently at Professor DADA-Severus. He seemed almost...hungry?
"If I cannot get a correct, complete answer within the next five minutes, you will all fail your class."
The shouting was uproarius, for all of the three seconds it took the Professor to raise the pistol and empty the magazine. As the thunderous roars died away, he began reloading in silence.
Eventually, another hand was raised. "Zabini, what is your answer to the nature of Humility?"
"Humility is when you make your internal self-image match your objective capabilities."
The silence stretched out for almost twenty seconds. Harry was forced to concede Seamus' point from the feast as the Professor eyed the crowd - Professor DADA-Severus had a flair for the dramatic.
"Correct. 10 points to Slytherin for the correct answer, and another 10 points for learning from others' mistakes. Shield Charm #1."
Before anyone could interrupt, the Professor turned and emptied the cylinder into the nearest dummy, which had sprung up a Shield Charm at his command. It resisted four shots before the fifth shattered it and the sixth blasted a splintered crater in the oakwood.
"I confess that I am the very model of a modern modified Muggle, and that there are very few like me. But weapons like this Enfield No. 2 Revolver firearm are extremely common - even children train with them or something like them. And for all the magical methods you might have, the simple fact is that the Death Eaters would never win a war against the mundane world. A beginner's shield charm cannot resist the full might of even one of these weapons, and they are amongst the least of their kind."
He placed it down and picked up another, this one a larger revolver though still small in his hands.
"This one is a Smith and Wesson 44 - less common, but much stronger and still prevalent in many areas. Shield Charm #2." The next dummy only lasted for one shot - the second broke the shield and bounced off the head leaving a scorch mark, followed by the third blasting a bigger crater than the first gun and rocking the dummy on its stand.
"This is a Benelli M4 Shotgun, chambered in what Muggles call '12 gauge', one of the most common types. Shield Charm #3." The first shot went through the Shield and flattened against the enchanted wood. The rest left it a ruined mess and slammed it to the floor.
"This is the infamous Enfield L85A1 rifle, regarded by many as the worst of the worst. Its equivalent is the back-alley wand of unknown origins you buy in a hag's market that is just as likely to kill you as cast a spell properly. Shield Charm #4." Harry vaguely recognized the firing pattern as "automatic" and the cries of fear and dismay from the stands as it unleashed eleven shots in less than a second before jamming - and still gutting the dummy - were intense.
"These are a selection of only four of the many, many, many weapons that Muggles have created. They are everywhere, and easily attainable. And this does not account for the equally varied alchemical reagents and stranger tools they have created."
Placing the rifle back on the table, he turned to the crowd with a raised eyebrow.
"Your lesson today is a pass-fail. Only one person needs to pass for all the classes to pass. Should that happen, all students will receive an O for this lesson and the next three weeks will have one reading assignment per week requiring three foot essays each, and nothing more. Should no one pass, you will all receive a T for the class."
-----------------------------------------
Professor DADA-Severus was entirely unfazed by the cacophony of objections, only responding when they quieted down almost a minute later. He then procurred a large hourglass from within his robes, and started the sands running.
It was another thirty or so seconds of arguing and complaining before a shout of "Professor! Professor!" called loud enough for everyone to turn to Neville, who was furiously waving his hand. Professor DADA-Severus motioned to him.
"Professor, you haven't told us what the lesson is."
"You are correct. Consider what I have told you."
...
...
...
"You've told us that todays lesson is Pride and Humility, and you demonstrated that Shield Charms can't stand up to Muggle firelegs."
"Firearms, Longbottom, but in essence that is correct. So what is the task you must fulfill?"
Neville opened his mouth to answer, then paused and turned to Luna who was next to him. After a hurried whispered conversation, Neville turned away and to everyone's surprise, started making his way down to the arena. When he reached the Professor, he stopped and started to speak several times, wilting under the truly malevolent-seeming glare of the Professor.
Eventually, in a cracking voice, Neville asked "Is that suit of armor over on the mannequin proof against firearms?"
"It is resistant, Longbottom. Nothing is a truly proof defense."
"...then...then..."
"Speak up, boy. Or have you none of the courage your House is known for?"
"I challenge you to a duel of Firearms vs Shield Charms!"
"You think you can defend against the same weapons the venerable dueling dummies of this castle, older than you are, failed to contest?"
"Yeah, I do! Same weapons, same number of attacks, you aim for the chest, and I get to wear that armor! If I'm still standing when all the shots are fired, then I win and you pass everyone!"
"Accepted, with the caveat that if you fail, you will either concede defeat or start over from the beginning."
--------------------------
To Be Continued...
