- Location
- usa
Can't Harry's scar be dealt with using moly since it has anti-dark magic properties?
Phenomenal Cosmic Power (Harry Potter/Multicross SI)
- Thread starter Pakeha
- Start date
- Crossover
Meeting up for the Quidditch Cup
"Are you sure your friend's tent is this way?" my brother, Giles, asked for the umpteenth time as we threaded our way through the eastern-most edge of the Dartmoor campgrounds. Trying to find the Longbottom campsite.
"I have no idea," I retorted. "It's not like I have a bloody map!"
"Someones's cranky today," Giles commented with a laugh. "Is your animagus form riled up?"
"No," I said, taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the goosebump-like sensation of bristled fur. "I'm just thinking of stuff."
"By stuff," Giles probed, "do you mean the news about that Umbridge woman?"
I stayed silent, opting instead to continue looking for Neville's tent.
"Carnac," Giles said, "I just don't understand why you're making a big deal over this. I thought you said Binns was a horrible professor. If the Ministry is sending someone to replace him, then surely it has to be an improvement."
I didn't reply. How could I explain that I knew Umbridge was going to be a tyrant without even having met her?
"Alright then," Giles eventually sighed. "Keep your secrets."
I nodded, still looking for the bloody tent.
I didn't want or need, a pep talk.
I'd deal with Umbridge when she started becoming an issue.
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"Carnac," Neville said excitedly. "You're here. You didn't have trouble finding us?"
"It took a while," I said with a small shrug, "but that was probably because my brother kept complaining."
"I'm Giles Le Fay, the complaining brother," Giles said, offering his hand to shake."
"Nice to meet you," Neville said, "I'm Neville. Neville Longbottom. Come in. We're just waiting for the pitch to open up. Carnac, just so you know, Sirius and Harry are here."
"Really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
I didn't know that they knew each other. Although, thinking about it, I guess they were in the Order of the Phoenix together. Shrugging, I followed Neville in.
Inside, the tent was roomy. Chairs and cushions sat in a circle around a lit stove.
Sirius and a tired-looking man with a cane were sharing a drink of something while Harry Potter sat sullenly to the side, head bandaged, and looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"Carnac!" Sirius said as soon as he saw me. "No one told me you were going to show up! Who's this."
"Hey Sirius," I said with a nod. "This is my brother, Giles."
"Nice to meet you," Sirius said, raising his cup.
Out of the corner of my eye, I kept an eye on the boy-who-lived as he watched me with an odd expression. His head was wrapped in bandages, covering up his scar. Had the Horcrux already been removed?
"Carnac," Neville said quietly, interrupting my train of thought. "This is my dad."
The man, Neville's father, stood shakily, stepping forward.
"I hear you're the one who found out about moly?" he asked taking my hand to shake. His voice was steady, but I could feel the muscles in his hand twitching erratically. A leftover effect of the cruciatus curse?
"Yes sir," I said nervously.
I didn't know anything about this guy. In the books, he and his wife only had a brief, bed-ridden scene, and Neville was too private to really talk about them.
"I'm no sir," he said, with a small grin. "Call me Frank. Because of you, my wife and I have our lives back. If you need anything, we're in your debt."
Sirius snorted into his cup and Frank shot him a curious look, sitting back down.
"Take a seat you two," he said, gesturing to the side of the tent, where several chairs were stacked. "We were just talking about quidditch."
"Harry here is the Gryffindor seeker," Sirius said proudly to Giles. "He takes after his father."
"Really," Giles said in interest. "I played for the Beauxbatons team in reserve. As beater, mind you…"
Sighing, I leaned away from the conversation, turning to Sirius, who was staring at me curiously.
"How's unemployment treating you?" I asked.
"It's treating me well!" Sirius said with a laugh. "Although, I like to call it the bachelor lifestyle. Unemployment makes it sound like I'm poor! At least I've got Harry here to keep me from going too wild!"
Harry glanced up from his conversation with Giles to shoot Sirius a look halfway between joy and embarrassment. I grinned at that. He deserved all the happiness he could get after the Dursleys.
"The thing that gets me, though," Sirius continued, a smile playing across his lips, "is the fact that Malfoy pushed to have me discharged. I mean, Carnac, do you think I was a bad influence?"
"You did help me become an animagus," I said cheekily.
"Oh, that was me paying off a debt," Sirius said with a dismissive wave and a lazy smile. "I can hardly be held accountable for that. Although, when I tried to explain that to McGonagall, she looked like she'd swallowed a lemon! I wish I'd had a camera."
"I wish you'd told us," Neville said with a hint of reprehension in his voice. "I mean, Hermione would have tried to talk you out of it, but we would have kept your secrets."
"Sorry," I said, unsure what to say. "I just… it didn't feel like something to share. It felt private. Something I needed to do on my own."
Neville watched me closely with a small frown. I could tell he didn't really agree with my reasoning, but I couldn't think of how better to explain how the animagus ritual felt. It had just felt too personal to share. At least he didn't continue to probe.
"You end up registering your animagus form with the Ministry?" Sirius asked curiously.
"Yeah," I said, feeling my anger rise. "I wanted to avoid Skeeter finding it out. Especially after what she put you through."
Sirius took a sip from his cup in place of speaking.
"It was unprofessional, what she did," Frank stated. "It's one thing to expose something like that. It's another thing entirely to profit from it."
"I don't mind too much," Sirius said with a weak grin. "It helped with the bad-boy image I've got going for me. But it was probably a good thing you registered, Carnac."
I nodded with a scowl.
"The worst thing about it is that Rita literally registered as an animagus a week before she wrote that story," I growled.
In doing so, she'd invalidated the only blackmail I had on her, and now I had a target on my back.
"So," Frank said slowly. "You think she was an animagus before, and sighed up right before she exposed Sirius?"
"Yes," I said shortly.
"Merlin," Frank growled. "And I thought she was a nasty piece of work before. What's her animagus form."
"A green beetle," I said.
"I think," Frank remarked, "that we'll have to purchase new wards. At least that explains how Skeeter's been able to publish so many private pieces of gossip."
"May have to do the same for Grimmauld Place," Sirius hummed. "Last thing we want is Rita skittering around."
Somewhere in the distance, a gong rang out, and the muffled chatter from the neighboring tents picked up.
"We'll have to put this conversation on hold," Frank said, getting shakily to his feet, clutching his cane. "The game is about to start."
"This'll be good," Sirius said, the weighty tone of the prior conversation evaporating. "Who do you think will win, Harry?"
As we trailed out the tent flap to join the throngs of witches and wizards heading toward the pitch, I began to relax, just enjoying the feeling of excitement and exuberance.
Rita Skeeter and Umbridge could wait.
For now, I had a game to catch.
"I have no idea," I retorted. "It's not like I have a bloody map!"
"Someones's cranky today," Giles commented with a laugh. "Is your animagus form riled up?"
"No," I said, taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the goosebump-like sensation of bristled fur. "I'm just thinking of stuff."
"By stuff," Giles probed, "do you mean the news about that Umbridge woman?"
I stayed silent, opting instead to continue looking for Neville's tent.
"Carnac," Giles said, "I just don't understand why you're making a big deal over this. I thought you said Binns was a horrible professor. If the Ministry is sending someone to replace him, then surely it has to be an improvement."
I didn't reply. How could I explain that I knew Umbridge was going to be a tyrant without even having met her?
"Alright then," Giles eventually sighed. "Keep your secrets."
I nodded, still looking for the bloody tent.
I didn't want or need, a pep talk.
I'd deal with Umbridge when she started becoming an issue.
----------------------------------------------------------------
"Carnac," Neville said excitedly. "You're here. You didn't have trouble finding us?"
"It took a while," I said with a small shrug, "but that was probably because my brother kept complaining."
"I'm Giles Le Fay, the complaining brother," Giles said, offering his hand to shake."
"Nice to meet you," Neville said, "I'm Neville. Neville Longbottom. Come in. We're just waiting for the pitch to open up. Carnac, just so you know, Sirius and Harry are here."
"Really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
I didn't know that they knew each other. Although, thinking about it, I guess they were in the Order of the Phoenix together. Shrugging, I followed Neville in.
Inside, the tent was roomy. Chairs and cushions sat in a circle around a lit stove.
Sirius and a tired-looking man with a cane were sharing a drink of something while Harry Potter sat sullenly to the side, head bandaged, and looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"Carnac!" Sirius said as soon as he saw me. "No one told me you were going to show up! Who's this."
"Hey Sirius," I said with a nod. "This is my brother, Giles."
"Nice to meet you," Sirius said, raising his cup.
Out of the corner of my eye, I kept an eye on the boy-who-lived as he watched me with an odd expression. His head was wrapped in bandages, covering up his scar. Had the Horcrux already been removed?
"Carnac," Neville said quietly, interrupting my train of thought. "This is my dad."
The man, Neville's father, stood shakily, stepping forward.
"I hear you're the one who found out about moly?" he asked taking my hand to shake. His voice was steady, but I could feel the muscles in his hand twitching erratically. A leftover effect of the cruciatus curse?
"Yes sir," I said nervously.
I didn't know anything about this guy. In the books, he and his wife only had a brief, bed-ridden scene, and Neville was too private to really talk about them.
"I'm no sir," he said, with a small grin. "Call me Frank. Because of you, my wife and I have our lives back. If you need anything, we're in your debt."
Sirius snorted into his cup and Frank shot him a curious look, sitting back down.
"Take a seat you two," he said, gesturing to the side of the tent, where several chairs were stacked. "We were just talking about quidditch."
"Harry here is the Gryffindor seeker," Sirius said proudly to Giles. "He takes after his father."
"Really," Giles said in interest. "I played for the Beauxbatons team in reserve. As beater, mind you…"
Sighing, I leaned away from the conversation, turning to Sirius, who was staring at me curiously.
"How's unemployment treating you?" I asked.
"It's treating me well!" Sirius said with a laugh. "Although, I like to call it the bachelor lifestyle. Unemployment makes it sound like I'm poor! At least I've got Harry here to keep me from going too wild!"
Harry glanced up from his conversation with Giles to shoot Sirius a look halfway between joy and embarrassment. I grinned at that. He deserved all the happiness he could get after the Dursleys.
"The thing that gets me, though," Sirius continued, a smile playing across his lips, "is the fact that Malfoy pushed to have me discharged. I mean, Carnac, do you think I was a bad influence?"
"You did help me become an animagus," I said cheekily.
"Oh, that was me paying off a debt," Sirius said with a dismissive wave and a lazy smile. "I can hardly be held accountable for that. Although, when I tried to explain that to McGonagall, she looked like she'd swallowed a lemon! I wish I'd had a camera."
"I wish you'd told us," Neville said with a hint of reprehension in his voice. "I mean, Hermione would have tried to talk you out of it, but we would have kept your secrets."
"Sorry," I said, unsure what to say. "I just… it didn't feel like something to share. It felt private. Something I needed to do on my own."
Neville watched me closely with a small frown. I could tell he didn't really agree with my reasoning, but I couldn't think of how better to explain how the animagus ritual felt. It had just felt too personal to share. At least he didn't continue to probe.
"You end up registering your animagus form with the Ministry?" Sirius asked curiously.
"Yeah," I said, feeling my anger rise. "I wanted to avoid Skeeter finding it out. Especially after what she put you through."
Sirius took a sip from his cup in place of speaking.
"It was unprofessional, what she did," Frank stated. "It's one thing to expose something like that. It's another thing entirely to profit from it."
"I don't mind too much," Sirius said with a weak grin. "It helped with the bad-boy image I've got going for me. But it was probably a good thing you registered, Carnac."
I nodded with a scowl.
"The worst thing about it is that Rita literally registered as an animagus a week before she wrote that story," I growled.
In doing so, she'd invalidated the only blackmail I had on her, and now I had a target on my back.
"So," Frank said slowly. "You think she was an animagus before, and sighed up right before she exposed Sirius?"
"Yes," I said shortly.
"Merlin," Frank growled. "And I thought she was a nasty piece of work before. What's her animagus form."
"A green beetle," I said.
"I think," Frank remarked, "that we'll have to purchase new wards. At least that explains how Skeeter's been able to publish so many private pieces of gossip."
"May have to do the same for Grimmauld Place," Sirius hummed. "Last thing we want is Rita skittering around."
Somewhere in the distance, a gong rang out, and the muffled chatter from the neighboring tents picked up.
"We'll have to put this conversation on hold," Frank said, getting shakily to his feet, clutching his cane. "The game is about to start."
"This'll be good," Sirius said, the weighty tone of the prior conversation evaporating. "Who do you think will win, Harry?"
As we trailed out the tent flap to join the throngs of witches and wizards heading toward the pitch, I began to relax, just enjoying the feeling of excitement and exuberance.
Rita Skeeter and Umbridge could wait.
For now, I had a game to catch.
- Location
- Elsewhere
I see a lot of HP fics where the character gets an animagus form, and doesn't register to keep it as a hidden weapon... then never end up using it.
After all, a hidden weapon is only necessary when you're losing, and they're way too good to lose.
And since it's unregistered it ends up relegated to random playing around and can't be used in 90% of the situations where it would be useful.
It's only really required to be registered in this setting. In the next world, and all the ones after, it'll just be something that he can do. Then again he'd also likely try keeping the entire magic thing private, but that's more a good habit than anything else.
There have been tons of fics that do things like the shopping trip of doom. Where they pick up anything and everything remotely magical, and never really use any of it. It's an excuse to avoid a plot hole. If they need some random magical item, they could just claim that it was purchased then.
Animagus forms aren't really supposed to be hidden weapons. They are supposed to be hidden escaping or spying tools.
- Location
- California
It's a metaphor about the surprise it can elicit. Nobody expects a person to shape shift into a dog or bird, so the person can act with that moment of distraction.
Taking umbrage to Umbridge
"Why didn't you tell us?" Hermione demanded as we rode up to Hogwarts in the thestral-drawn carriage. "I mean, we went over all of this before! I thought you weren't going to keep secrets from us!"
"Hermione," I said with a tired sigh. "This isn't like with the Chamber of Secrets or my knowledge of the other time. This was a private ritual that I wanted to do for myself."
"But why didn't you trust us enough to tell us?" Hermione asked.
"Like you didn't trust Neville and Luna enough to tell them about your time-turner?" I asked.
Hermione winced, and I ignored the impulsive flinch of guilt. She was pushing me into a corner on this.
"That was different," Hermione protested. "I had permission to use the time-turner, and a reason to use it, but you-"
"Sirius Black walked me through the entire process," I said, speaking over her. "And I think having a professor on my side counts as permission. As for the reason, well," I gestured at the Quibbler lying unattended next to Luna. "I think Luna's dad did a pretty good job covering why it's a good idea to have a trick or two up my sleeve."
Hermione closed her mouth, glancing at the magazine. There'd been an attack on one of the Quidditch World Cup after parties. The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly had mentioned it, but the Quibbler was the only paper to report that the attackers were dressed like death eaters.
"If you want to keep it a secret, then why register," Neville asked.
I gave him a flat stare.
"It was either that and have it buried in a bureaucratic mess of paperwork," I said slowly, "or have it plastered across the front of the Prophet when Rita Skeeter gets wind of it."
"You could have let us know though," Hermione insisted.
I groaned, leaning back against the seat.
"Look," I said as the carriage halted before the entrance of Hogwarts. "I trust you guys, but there are some things I want to keep private. So drop it!"
"But-" Hermione started, only for Luna to poke her in the ribs.
"What's it like being an ichneumon?" Lovegood asked as we hopped out of the carriage, joining the throngs of students making their way indoors. "Have you noticed any changes now that you're an animagus?"
I chuckled lightly, happy the conversation was finally moving on.
"Whenever I see something snake-like, I feel the impulse to attack it," I said. "So, naturally, my brother decided it'd be funny to start leaving transfigured snakes around the house. It's driving me mental."
Luna laughed lightly, Hermione and Neville following, in the middle of a hushed conversation.
"There are other things," I continued. "It takes less to rile me up now, and I enjoy swimming more than I did before, but most of the noticeable changes are impulses I can ignore."
"So it has a mental effect?" Hermione asked, jumping back into the conversation.
"Yes it does," I said as we entered the great hall, sitting at the end of the Hufflepuff table, just across from the Ravenclaw table with my back to the Gryffindor side of the hall.
Luna sat across from me, and Neville sighed while Hermione watched me in shock. Normally, I sat closer to the Gryffindor table, but currently, I wasn't in the mood to be ranted at.
"Come on," Neville said with a sigh, dragging Hermione along. "Let's go."
As Luna began to chat happily about a muggle book she'd bought on ice-age megafauna, I kept an eye on the front of the hall.
The Defence Against the Dark Art's seat was filled by a gnarled man with a deeply scarred face and a shocking blue eye.
I stared at him closely. I'd been a bit surprised when Alastor Moody's name had been on the teacher roster, but I suppose it made sense. After all, who else was willing to take the Defence position?
Further along, in the normally empty chair that had used to belong to Binns, was Umbridge.
She was a squat lady. Much more cold-looking than the actor who portrayed her in the movies. She stood out in her fluffy pink cardigan among the black and blue and emerald green robes of the other professors, looking out over the hall with a smug expression.
I could tell she was going to be just as bad as in the books.
"So my dad says that perhaps the Yin Shu hunted mammoths and that's why the ancient bones are so much bigger than the modern animal… Who's that?" Luna asked, interrupting herself as she noticed I wasn't listening.
"Sorry Luna," I apologised. "That's Umbridge."
Luna watched me closely. She was canny enough to know that when I refused to call someone Professor, it meant I didn't respect them in the slightest.
"She's bad news," I said softly, turning away from the table. "Be careful around her, and if she does anything you even think is slightly illegal, let me know. Okay?"
Luna blinked slowly, before nodding.
"Okay then," I said with a small grin. "So, the yin shu? What did you say it was?"
"A giant mole-like rodent the size of a buffalo," Luna replied promptly. "Their bones are used in potions."
I listened closely, ignoring the staff table, even as I felt the hair on the back of my neck bristle from unseen eyes.
I could handle Umbridge if she tried to threaten and sabotage me for being Dumbledore's apprentice, but if she tried to hurt my friends…
She would regret it.
"Hermione," I said with a tired sigh. "This isn't like with the Chamber of Secrets or my knowledge of the other time. This was a private ritual that I wanted to do for myself."
"But why didn't you trust us enough to tell us?" Hermione asked.
"Like you didn't trust Neville and Luna enough to tell them about your time-turner?" I asked.
Hermione winced, and I ignored the impulsive flinch of guilt. She was pushing me into a corner on this.
"That was different," Hermione protested. "I had permission to use the time-turner, and a reason to use it, but you-"
"Sirius Black walked me through the entire process," I said, speaking over her. "And I think having a professor on my side counts as permission. As for the reason, well," I gestured at the Quibbler lying unattended next to Luna. "I think Luna's dad did a pretty good job covering why it's a good idea to have a trick or two up my sleeve."
Hermione closed her mouth, glancing at the magazine. There'd been an attack on one of the Quidditch World Cup after parties. The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly had mentioned it, but the Quibbler was the only paper to report that the attackers were dressed like death eaters.
"If you want to keep it a secret, then why register," Neville asked.
I gave him a flat stare.
"It was either that and have it buried in a bureaucratic mess of paperwork," I said slowly, "or have it plastered across the front of the Prophet when Rita Skeeter gets wind of it."
"You could have let us know though," Hermione insisted.
I groaned, leaning back against the seat.
"Look," I said as the carriage halted before the entrance of Hogwarts. "I trust you guys, but there are some things I want to keep private. So drop it!"
"But-" Hermione started, only for Luna to poke her in the ribs.
"What's it like being an ichneumon?" Lovegood asked as we hopped out of the carriage, joining the throngs of students making their way indoors. "Have you noticed any changes now that you're an animagus?"
I chuckled lightly, happy the conversation was finally moving on.
"Whenever I see something snake-like, I feel the impulse to attack it," I said. "So, naturally, my brother decided it'd be funny to start leaving transfigured snakes around the house. It's driving me mental."
Luna laughed lightly, Hermione and Neville following, in the middle of a hushed conversation.
"There are other things," I continued. "It takes less to rile me up now, and I enjoy swimming more than I did before, but most of the noticeable changes are impulses I can ignore."
"So it has a mental effect?" Hermione asked, jumping back into the conversation.
"Yes it does," I said as we entered the great hall, sitting at the end of the Hufflepuff table, just across from the Ravenclaw table with my back to the Gryffindor side of the hall.
Luna sat across from me, and Neville sighed while Hermione watched me in shock. Normally, I sat closer to the Gryffindor table, but currently, I wasn't in the mood to be ranted at.
"Come on," Neville said with a sigh, dragging Hermione along. "Let's go."
As Luna began to chat happily about a muggle book she'd bought on ice-age megafauna, I kept an eye on the front of the hall.
The Defence Against the Dark Art's seat was filled by a gnarled man with a deeply scarred face and a shocking blue eye.
I stared at him closely. I'd been a bit surprised when Alastor Moody's name had been on the teacher roster, but I suppose it made sense. After all, who else was willing to take the Defence position?
Further along, in the normally empty chair that had used to belong to Binns, was Umbridge.
She was a squat lady. Much more cold-looking than the actor who portrayed her in the movies. She stood out in her fluffy pink cardigan among the black and blue and emerald green robes of the other professors, looking out over the hall with a smug expression.
I could tell she was going to be just as bad as in the books.
"So my dad says that perhaps the Yin Shu hunted mammoths and that's why the ancient bones are so much bigger than the modern animal… Who's that?" Luna asked, interrupting herself as she noticed I wasn't listening.
"Sorry Luna," I apologised. "That's Umbridge."
Luna watched me closely. She was canny enough to know that when I refused to call someone Professor, it meant I didn't respect them in the slightest.
"She's bad news," I said softly, turning away from the table. "Be careful around her, and if she does anything you even think is slightly illegal, let me know. Okay?"
Luna blinked slowly, before nodding.
"Okay then," I said with a small grin. "So, the yin shu? What did you say it was?"
"A giant mole-like rodent the size of a buffalo," Luna replied promptly. "Their bones are used in potions."
I listened closely, ignoring the staff table, even as I felt the hair on the back of my neck bristle from unseen eyes.
I could handle Umbridge if she tried to threaten and sabotage me for being Dumbledore's apprentice, but if she tried to hurt my friends…
She would regret it.
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- Location
- Philippine
Finally, a MC that knows privacy and secrecy.
- Location
- Elsewhere
Plenty of MCs know privacy and secrecy… when it comes to their own privacy.
It's other peoples privacy they disregard.
- Location
- California
This whole sequence of events just shows that Luna might be the closest thing to a best friend. With Hermione and Neville, there a power and knowledge imbalance, and Cardac knows it. It's why there's initial problems with him trying to connect in the beginning. It's not hard for a gap to form as one side has regular child concerns, and the other is deeply worried about terrorists and geopolitical machinations. I think Luna understands there's a gap between them, but she finds minor ways to bridge said gap.
I'll stick around for the next jump, but it's clear there's a painful gap boiling underneath. Something which probably isn't going to be resolved when he leaves.
History of Magic
After the regular gap day, Wednesday the third was our first day of lessons, and to prove that Murphy or the ROB or Puck himself hated me, the first lesson of Wednesday was a double period of History of Magic.
Umbridge was contently seated at the teacher's desk when I came in, wearing her fluffy pink cardigan and a lavender bow atop her head. As soon as I walked in the door, her head snapped up, and her eyes fixed on me, like a toad that had spotted a particularly juicy fly.
I made sure to sit as far back as I could, and as the remaining seats filled, I tried to ignore the all too frequent glances in my direction.
At least she wasn't being subtle about having it out for me.
"Well good morning, children!" she said, standing as the last person took their seat.
A few people muttered some replies, but no one was putting any effort into it. This was History, after all. It was the class everyone slept through. Already, I could see some people fighting to stay awake.
"Tut-tut," Umbridge said, enunciating it in her sickly sweet voice. "That won't do now, will it? Let's try again. Good morning children!"
"Good morning Professor Umbridge," a few people chorused, but some were still yawning tiredly, or simply watching on in amusement.
Umbridge took a deep breath and looked out over the classroom, a hint of fervour in her eyes.
"Oh dear," she said. "It appears we're all a bit rusty after the holidays. Let's try that once more, and this time, I'd like everyone to try their best. Now; good Morning class!"
The way she spoke, you'd think we were all two-year-olds, but, by this point, I think people were beginning to get a bit unnerved by her artificially upbeat tone.
"Good morning Professor Umbridge," we all chorused, and she watched us with a small victorious smile.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" she said in her gratingly girlish voice. "Now…"
She turned to the blackboard, and we all watched as she tapped her wand against it, disappearing the years of dust, before tapping it again, making blocky letters appear.
"Ordinary Wizarding Level exams," she said, turning back to us, "otherwise known as OWLs."
I blinked hard. I'd completely forgotten we had those tests this year.
"Your previous lessons in History of Magic have been rather inadequate," she said to us, "which means you are far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year."
Everyone watched on in complete silence, and I could understand why. Everything she said was shockingly patronising. It was unbelievable how she managed to cram so much condescension into each sentence with such a girlish tone nonetheless.
"Hopefully," she continued, "by following a carefully structured Ministry-approved course, we'll be able to get you to the standard we expect to see. Has everyone got a copy of the 'Complete History of Magical Britain' by Faven Lagheft?"
Everyone murmured some sort of confirmation and she paused.
"I think we'll try that again," she said. "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply 'Yes Professor Umbridge,' or 'No Professor Umbridge.' So, has everyone got a copy of the 'Complete History of Magical Britain' by Faven Lagheft?"
"Yes Professor Umbridge," I chorused with the class. I was going to hex her within a week at this rate. Two tops.
"Good," she said. "I should like you to turn to page one, and read the accounts of Merlin and Sir Cadogan, and how they aided the muggle King Arthur in his battles with his half-sister, the Dark Lady, Morgan le Fay."
Umbridge's pouchy eyes flicked to me, and suddenly, I realised what she was doing.
She was under the impression I was a relative of Morgana le Fay. She was trying to rile me up, or paint an unappealing comparison.
Nice try you tyrannical twit of a toad, but I'm not biting.
"Professor?"
Umbridge glanced at the speaker, Sampson Mars, one of my dorm mates.
"Did you have a question, dear?" she asked lightly.
"It's just, Morgana was a bit more nuanced than simply being a dark witch," Bruno said. "Wasn't she also Queen of Avalon, and an ally of King Arthur in his later years?"
Umbridge watched Sampson in mild disbelief.
"Perhaps that is what you've been taught," she said, "but one cannot put too much faith in such tall tales. If you just read the first chapter of your Ministry-approved textbook, I'm sure you'll find the answers to your burning questions."
With that, she settled into her seat to watch us.
Flicking through the first chapter of the textbook, I almost snorted out loud at the utter rubbish they'd wasted the paper on. It was like reading a storybook meant for toddlers, except I'm sure at least those sorts of books have some nuance.
Reading ahead, I had to stop myself from staring slack-jawed at page after page of black-and-white stories of good triumphing over evil, in which cruel and controversial figures were stripped of all personality to become shining symbols of virtue and mouthpieces for the current Ministry.
Glancing up, I saw Umbridge watching me readily.
"Is there a problem, Mr. Le Fay?" she asked sweetly, staring me right in the eye.
"No Professor," I said, turning back to the book.
Gazing blankly at the page, I considered what to do now.
The books weren't worth reading. I'd have to set aside time for keeping on top of my History, but if that petulant pink poon thought she was going to hinder me with this, then she was dead wrong.
I was actually kind of interested to see how far she'd go to besmirch my name.
Then, maybe she could make History a tad more interesting after all.
Umbridge was contently seated at the teacher's desk when I came in, wearing her fluffy pink cardigan and a lavender bow atop her head. As soon as I walked in the door, her head snapped up, and her eyes fixed on me, like a toad that had spotted a particularly juicy fly.
I made sure to sit as far back as I could, and as the remaining seats filled, I tried to ignore the all too frequent glances in my direction.
At least she wasn't being subtle about having it out for me.
"Well good morning, children!" she said, standing as the last person took their seat.
A few people muttered some replies, but no one was putting any effort into it. This was History, after all. It was the class everyone slept through. Already, I could see some people fighting to stay awake.
"Tut-tut," Umbridge said, enunciating it in her sickly sweet voice. "That won't do now, will it? Let's try again. Good morning children!"
"Good morning Professor Umbridge," a few people chorused, but some were still yawning tiredly, or simply watching on in amusement.
Umbridge took a deep breath and looked out over the classroom, a hint of fervour in her eyes.
"Oh dear," she said. "It appears we're all a bit rusty after the holidays. Let's try that once more, and this time, I'd like everyone to try their best. Now; good Morning class!"
The way she spoke, you'd think we were all two-year-olds, but, by this point, I think people were beginning to get a bit unnerved by her artificially upbeat tone.
"Good morning Professor Umbridge," we all chorused, and she watched us with a small victorious smile.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" she said in her gratingly girlish voice. "Now…"
She turned to the blackboard, and we all watched as she tapped her wand against it, disappearing the years of dust, before tapping it again, making blocky letters appear.
"Ordinary Wizarding Level exams," she said, turning back to us, "otherwise known as OWLs."
I blinked hard. I'd completely forgotten we had those tests this year.
"Your previous lessons in History of Magic have been rather inadequate," she said to us, "which means you are far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year."
Everyone watched on in complete silence, and I could understand why. Everything she said was shockingly patronising. It was unbelievable how she managed to cram so much condescension into each sentence with such a girlish tone nonetheless.
"Hopefully," she continued, "by following a carefully structured Ministry-approved course, we'll be able to get you to the standard we expect to see. Has everyone got a copy of the 'Complete History of Magical Britain' by Faven Lagheft?"
Everyone murmured some sort of confirmation and she paused.
"I think we'll try that again," she said. "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply 'Yes Professor Umbridge,' or 'No Professor Umbridge.' So, has everyone got a copy of the 'Complete History of Magical Britain' by Faven Lagheft?"
"Yes Professor Umbridge," I chorused with the class. I was going to hex her within a week at this rate. Two tops.
"Good," she said. "I should like you to turn to page one, and read the accounts of Merlin and Sir Cadogan, and how they aided the muggle King Arthur in his battles with his half-sister, the Dark Lady, Morgan le Fay."
Umbridge's pouchy eyes flicked to me, and suddenly, I realised what she was doing.
She was under the impression I was a relative of Morgana le Fay. She was trying to rile me up, or paint an unappealing comparison.
Nice try you tyrannical twit of a toad, but I'm not biting.
"Professor?"
Umbridge glanced at the speaker, Sampson Mars, one of my dorm mates.
"Did you have a question, dear?" she asked lightly.
"It's just, Morgana was a bit more nuanced than simply being a dark witch," Bruno said. "Wasn't she also Queen of Avalon, and an ally of King Arthur in his later years?"
Umbridge watched Sampson in mild disbelief.
"Perhaps that is what you've been taught," she said, "but one cannot put too much faith in such tall tales. If you just read the first chapter of your Ministry-approved textbook, I'm sure you'll find the answers to your burning questions."
With that, she settled into her seat to watch us.
Flicking through the first chapter of the textbook, I almost snorted out loud at the utter rubbish they'd wasted the paper on. It was like reading a storybook meant for toddlers, except I'm sure at least those sorts of books have some nuance.
Reading ahead, I had to stop myself from staring slack-jawed at page after page of black-and-white stories of good triumphing over evil, in which cruel and controversial figures were stripped of all personality to become shining symbols of virtue and mouthpieces for the current Ministry.
Glancing up, I saw Umbridge watching me readily.
"Is there a problem, Mr. Le Fay?" she asked sweetly, staring me right in the eye.
"No Professor," I said, turning back to the book.
Gazing blankly at the page, I considered what to do now.
The books weren't worth reading. I'd have to set aside time for keeping on top of my History, but if that petulant pink poon thought she was going to hinder me with this, then she was dead wrong.
I was actually kind of interested to see how far she'd go to besmirch my name.
Then, maybe she could make History a tad more interesting after all.
- Location
- England
Sounds like there'll be a thriving market for false-cover books that appear to have the correct contents when a professor (or Umbridge) looks at them.
- Location
- Earth
- Pronouns
- They/Them
You wouldn't be at all peeved if someone is intentionally attempting to rile you up during a class in every way possible, knowing that they are perfectly willing to torture, truth serum, and cast an unforgivable on both you and your friends in the future? (in addition not just yours also everyone else's chances at passing the History OWL? (which could mess up a bunch of their career plans, as good OWLs are required for NEWTS))
That aside, how are they being hostile? As far as I can see all they've done is select a seat furthest from the front, sit down, follow the Umbridge's condescending instructions, and start to read the proscribed book. Is just thinking hostile thoughts at people you dislike unreasonable now?
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I know Umbridge is bad person but way she acted until now feels pleasant to me even, what teacher should act. I worded badly that MC is acting hostile what I mean is Umbridge is nothing of consequence why so angry with her?
MC is multiverse traveler outside of this world's Fate, she is just some petty person. Compared to how Snape act I would be angry at Snape more even knowing his reasons.
- Pronouns
- Zug
Just explode her and tell people she was a voldemort host like quirrel. Seriously though is Dumbledore incapable of making a decent hiring decision lol?
- Location
- USA
Dumbledore didn't hire her. He simply never replaced Binns. Since the post was being filled by a Ghost the Ministry declared it vacant to plant their shill. Same thing in the books: Dumbledore didn't get the DADA post filled by the deadline so the Ministry "appointed" Dolores to fill the vacant slot.
I never understand why characters go: "oh no Umbridge is sabatoging the class, I'll study, I'll do the best I can, pass with flying colors and even get extra points on the OWLS for demonstrating a rare ability and train everyone else I can in a special secret study club so they can too, That'll Show Her!"
Rather than: "oh Umbridge is sabatoging the class with false information, wrong information, propaganda and everything wrong for the class instead of the correct information? Alright, I'll do so bad and encourage everyone else to follow in protest that it'll be about talked about for centuries how bad Umbridge is and how corrupt and wrong Fudge is that he'll be a glaring example of how not to be Minister for Magic or any kind of position of Power ever!"
All the first one does is this: Meanwhile at the Ministry: "See I was right, she was needed at Hogwarts, she was so needed I'll meddle more, the whole school passed with such high scores and such a success rate I'll get the Daily Prophet and papers to run this whole thing on so many front pages for such a long time as long as I can my approval rating will be so high! I might even get Dumbledore and Potter Exiled!"
Rather than: "oh Umbridge is sabatoging the class with false information, wrong information, propaganda and everything wrong for the class instead of the correct information? Alright, I'll do so bad and encourage everyone else to follow in protest that it'll be about talked about for centuries how bad Umbridge is and how corrupt and wrong Fudge is that he'll be a glaring example of how not to be Minister for Magic or any kind of position of Power ever!"
All the first one does is this: Meanwhile at the Ministry: "See I was right, she was needed at Hogwarts, she was so needed I'll meddle more, the whole school passed with such high scores and such a success rate I'll get the Daily Prophet and papers to run this whole thing on so many front pages for such a long time as long as I can my approval rating will be so high! I might even get Dumbledore and Potter Exiled!"
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Good news, Enchanting and Mad-Eye Moody
"How was your summer, My boy?" Dumbledore asked as I stepped into his office.
"It was okay," I said, taking a seat. "My brother took me to the Quidditch World Cup."
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore chuckled. "Did it play out like it did in the other time?"
"No," I said with a small headshake. "In the other time, the Irish defeated Peru in the semifinals and went on to defeat Bulgaria. For some reason, the Peruvians won here, although Viktor Krum still played their seeker like a drum."
"Really?" Dumbledore asked. "How interesting. I heard the entire thing over the wizarding wireless, and I felt that the Peruvians could have brought more to the game. What was it like seeing the Wronski Feint in person?"
"I'm not much of a quidditch fan," I shrugged. "It was cool, but the Peruvian chaser seemed to know what was going on and pulled up too soon for it to be effective."
"Hmm," Dumbledore sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I do wonder what caused events to diverge as such? I suppose we'll never know."
I nodded in agreement. By this point, things had diverged so much that my knowledge of canon events was pretty much useless. Thankfully, most of the horrible things to come had ben dealt with before they had a chance to become serious issues.
"In other news," Dumbledore said slowly. "Over the Summer Holidays, the last of the Horcruxes were destroyed."
I grinned widely at that. That was brilliant news.
"How?" I asked.
"For Harry's scar, I asked a dark-spirit hunter from the Balkans to come as see if he could remove it," Dumbledore said, grabbing a lemon drop to suck on. "He managed to entice it out by weakening the magic binding it to Harry, drawing it into an item connected to Voldemort, in this case, Tom Riddle's Special Awards trophy. A tad ironic, perhaps, but it was satisfying to destroy."
"Okay," I said, leaning forward. "And the ring?"
"We had some issues," Dumbledore said hesitantly. "No one was hurt, but it was a close call."
"What happened?" I insisted.
"I would prefer if we didn't discuss it," Dumbledore said softly. "But now, Voldemort is mortal once more."
I grinned. Thank Puck! Hopefully, since he was still only a wrath, he'd just fade away.
"Now, as you know," Dumbledore said, changing topics, "you have your OWL exams to look forward to at the end of the school year."
I nodded, still elated by the good news.
"Due to them, and to keep Professor Umbridge's focus off you, I have decided that it'd be best if we limit our lessons."
I grimaced. Well, that's one way to ruin my mood.
"Why is Umbridge even here?" I asked. "Binns has been teaching History for years, and I thought you were starting to mend the rift between you and the Ministry."
Dumbledore sighed, taking off his spectacles to polish them.
"Unfortunately," he said, "she was hoisted upon me. It was an ultimatum; either Professor Umbridge or Mr. Avery. I decided it was best to go with the devil I knew, especially since Avery was a suspected Death Eater during the first war."
"Did you even have a choice in the matter?" I questioned.
"Alas, no," Dumbledore sighed. "The decision was presented by the Board of Governors and backed by the Ministry, and, as you said, I'm in the middle of trying to make amends."
"And why would they want Umbridge here?" I probed.
Dumbledore sighed, stroking his beard as if debating whether to tell me something.
"I suspect," he said slowly, "that Malfoy Sr. had something to do with it. But without proof, it's mere speculation. The why though is unclear."
I grimaced. Bloody politics. It meant that I had to play nice with Umbridge for now.
"Anyway," Dumbledore said, waving away the conversation, "today, I felt it would be best to at least get you started on this year's focus."
With a flick of his wand, a small leather-bound book flew from one of the shelves, landing softly on the desk in front of me.
"An Artificer's guide to Enchantment?" I asked, reading the cover.
"A first edition, nonetheless," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Written by the creator of the Mirror of Erised."
"I did a bit of work on enchanting over the holidays," I said slowly, flicking to the first page. "I actually made something using clay I enchanted in my animagus form."
"Really?" Dumbledore said in surprise.
With a bang, someone pounded again the door, and I flinched. Dumbledore, however, looked up calmly.
"That'll be Alastor," he said with a small chuckle. "Come in!"
Professor Moody stepped through the door, his magical eye darting back and forth rapidly, while his regular eye stayed fixed on me.
"Albus," he growled in greeting, slamming the door with a flick of his wand before limping to the side of the room, back against the wall. "So," he said, glancing back at me. "You're the prodigy Albus decided to train."
"Yes," Dumbledore said with a small chuckle. "In fact, Carnac was just about to show me some enchanting he's done over the holidays."
Professor Moody snorted, glancing around the room at the silver nicknacks that lined the shelves.
"Hopefully it's something useful," he said gruffly.
"Alastor has agreed to teach you a thing or two," Dumbledore said, turning back to me. "He's quite skilled in battle magic and duelling, and knows more about defensive magic than me."
Professor Moody muttered something under his breath, and Dumbledore simply smiled.
"So then," he said. "What did you make?"
Turning away from the gnarled, magical-eyed professor, I pulled a marble-sized clay bead out of my pocket, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger.
"I had trouble getting the enchantments to last," I said, glancing at Professor Moody, who was watching the bead closely. "It's still a one-use thing. I haven't figured out how to stop the magic from breaking or dissolving yet, but I think if I etch the runes in instead of painting them on, it may last longer. I haven't really had the chance to test it though…"
"May I see?" Dumbledore asked.
I wordlessly handed the bead over, and he pulled an eyepiece out of his desk.
"Remarkable," he said softly, gazing at the bead. "From what I can see, there aren't any flaws in your runes. Alastor what do you think?"
"It looks like there are two rune clusters," Professor Moody growled, his magic eye fixed on the clay bead. "The strain of supporting two separate rune systems is probably what's causing the magic to dissolve after each use. How did you come up with the designs?"
"My Mémaen is an enchanter," I said, taking back the clay bead. She has all sorts of books on advanced methods.
"Risky," Professor Moody growled, magical eye still fixed on the bead. "What does it do?"
I glanced at Dumbledore, who gave me a small nod.
"I admit, I'm curious myself. If your willing to demonstrate?"
Wordlessly, I pressed the bead to my throat, turning to Professor Moody.
"Statio," I said, my voice reverberating like a thunderclap.
Moody froze, and I turned to Dumbledore, who was watching with shock.
"My boy…" he said slowly, watching the statuesque form of Professor Moody as his magical eye darted around wildly. "How…?"
"I'll just undo it," I said, glancing back at Moody. "Aiw."
Immediately, Moody unfroze, whipping out his wand and pointing it at me.
"Accio!"
The clay bead shot out of my hand, and he clenched it tightly in a fist.
"What was that!" he growled.
I probably shouldn't have done that.
"Don't you usually wear enchanted robes?" Dumbledore asked, watching Professor Moody closely.
"Yes! And a dragonskin vest," Moody said, still staring at me. "What did you do, Le Fay?"
"It's sound-based," I said, trying to stay relaxed and non-threatening, even as I suppressed the urge to bristle at the Professor's scowl. I definitely shouldn't have done that. "Most spells take a second or so to hit their target and they're all brightly coloured and obvious. So I tried to make something that took effect as soon as it's heard. I got the idea from enchanted musical instruments."
Moody watched me closely, scowling, before switching his attention to the clay bead, scrutinising it.
"The runes are starting to fray," he said after a second. "You won't get much more use out of this."
I nodded slowly, sighing in relief at the fact he'd stopped glaring at me. Why had I done something so Puck-damned reckless?
"I'll be taking this," he said, glancing at me with his normal eye, and again, I nodded. I wasn't about to stop him. Not after that little stunt.
It wasn't like he'd be able to replicate it after all. It required a base of clay enchanted by an ichneumon after all.
"Albus," Moody said, nodding to the headmaster. "Le Fay, meet me in the Defence classroom next Saturday at ten. I'll be teaching you the Patronus spell.
"Yes professor," I said with a small nod.
His blue eye watched me for a moment, before he huffed, marching out the door.
"You made a good impression on him," Dumbledore said with a small chuckle as the door slammed shut.
"How can you tell?" I asked, still staring at the exit.
"If he took issue with you," Dumbledore said slowly, grabbing a lemon drop from the crystal bowl on his desk, "then he would have done more than just take your clay bead. Of course, now he's going to try his damndest to push you to become an Auror."
I nodded, still watching the door.
If Tonks could survive Mad-Eye Moody, then he couldn't be that bad.
Right?
"It was okay," I said, taking a seat. "My brother took me to the Quidditch World Cup."
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore chuckled. "Did it play out like it did in the other time?"
"No," I said with a small headshake. "In the other time, the Irish defeated Peru in the semifinals and went on to defeat Bulgaria. For some reason, the Peruvians won here, although Viktor Krum still played their seeker like a drum."
"Really?" Dumbledore asked. "How interesting. I heard the entire thing over the wizarding wireless, and I felt that the Peruvians could have brought more to the game. What was it like seeing the Wronski Feint in person?"
"I'm not much of a quidditch fan," I shrugged. "It was cool, but the Peruvian chaser seemed to know what was going on and pulled up too soon for it to be effective."
"Hmm," Dumbledore sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I do wonder what caused events to diverge as such? I suppose we'll never know."
I nodded in agreement. By this point, things had diverged so much that my knowledge of canon events was pretty much useless. Thankfully, most of the horrible things to come had ben dealt with before they had a chance to become serious issues.
"In other news," Dumbledore said slowly. "Over the Summer Holidays, the last of the Horcruxes were destroyed."
I grinned widely at that. That was brilliant news.
"How?" I asked.
"For Harry's scar, I asked a dark-spirit hunter from the Balkans to come as see if he could remove it," Dumbledore said, grabbing a lemon drop to suck on. "He managed to entice it out by weakening the magic binding it to Harry, drawing it into an item connected to Voldemort, in this case, Tom Riddle's Special Awards trophy. A tad ironic, perhaps, but it was satisfying to destroy."
"Okay," I said, leaning forward. "And the ring?"
"We had some issues," Dumbledore said hesitantly. "No one was hurt, but it was a close call."
"What happened?" I insisted.
"I would prefer if we didn't discuss it," Dumbledore said softly. "But now, Voldemort is mortal once more."
I grinned. Thank Puck! Hopefully, since he was still only a wrath, he'd just fade away.
"Now, as you know," Dumbledore said, changing topics, "you have your OWL exams to look forward to at the end of the school year."
I nodded, still elated by the good news.
"Due to them, and to keep Professor Umbridge's focus off you, I have decided that it'd be best if we limit our lessons."
I grimaced. Well, that's one way to ruin my mood.
"Why is Umbridge even here?" I asked. "Binns has been teaching History for years, and I thought you were starting to mend the rift between you and the Ministry."
Dumbledore sighed, taking off his spectacles to polish them.
"Unfortunately," he said, "she was hoisted upon me. It was an ultimatum; either Professor Umbridge or Mr. Avery. I decided it was best to go with the devil I knew, especially since Avery was a suspected Death Eater during the first war."
"Did you even have a choice in the matter?" I questioned.
"Alas, no," Dumbledore sighed. "The decision was presented by the Board of Governors and backed by the Ministry, and, as you said, I'm in the middle of trying to make amends."
"And why would they want Umbridge here?" I probed.
Dumbledore sighed, stroking his beard as if debating whether to tell me something.
"I suspect," he said slowly, "that Malfoy Sr. had something to do with it. But without proof, it's mere speculation. The why though is unclear."
I grimaced. Bloody politics. It meant that I had to play nice with Umbridge for now.
"Anyway," Dumbledore said, waving away the conversation, "today, I felt it would be best to at least get you started on this year's focus."
With a flick of his wand, a small leather-bound book flew from one of the shelves, landing softly on the desk in front of me.
"An Artificer's guide to Enchantment?" I asked, reading the cover.
"A first edition, nonetheless," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Written by the creator of the Mirror of Erised."
"I did a bit of work on enchanting over the holidays," I said slowly, flicking to the first page. "I actually made something using clay I enchanted in my animagus form."
"Really?" Dumbledore said in surprise.
With a bang, someone pounded again the door, and I flinched. Dumbledore, however, looked up calmly.
"That'll be Alastor," he said with a small chuckle. "Come in!"
Professor Moody stepped through the door, his magical eye darting back and forth rapidly, while his regular eye stayed fixed on me.
"Albus," he growled in greeting, slamming the door with a flick of his wand before limping to the side of the room, back against the wall. "So," he said, glancing back at me. "You're the prodigy Albus decided to train."
"Yes," Dumbledore said with a small chuckle. "In fact, Carnac was just about to show me some enchanting he's done over the holidays."
Professor Moody snorted, glancing around the room at the silver nicknacks that lined the shelves.
"Hopefully it's something useful," he said gruffly.
"Alastor has agreed to teach you a thing or two," Dumbledore said, turning back to me. "He's quite skilled in battle magic and duelling, and knows more about defensive magic than me."
Professor Moody muttered something under his breath, and Dumbledore simply smiled.
"So then," he said. "What did you make?"
Turning away from the gnarled, magical-eyed professor, I pulled a marble-sized clay bead out of my pocket, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger.
"I had trouble getting the enchantments to last," I said, glancing at Professor Moody, who was watching the bead closely. "It's still a one-use thing. I haven't figured out how to stop the magic from breaking or dissolving yet, but I think if I etch the runes in instead of painting them on, it may last longer. I haven't really had the chance to test it though…"
"May I see?" Dumbledore asked.
I wordlessly handed the bead over, and he pulled an eyepiece out of his desk.
"Remarkable," he said softly, gazing at the bead. "From what I can see, there aren't any flaws in your runes. Alastor what do you think?"
"It looks like there are two rune clusters," Professor Moody growled, his magic eye fixed on the clay bead. "The strain of supporting two separate rune systems is probably what's causing the magic to dissolve after each use. How did you come up with the designs?"
"My Mémaen is an enchanter," I said, taking back the clay bead. She has all sorts of books on advanced methods.
"Risky," Professor Moody growled, magical eye still fixed on the bead. "What does it do?"
I glanced at Dumbledore, who gave me a small nod.
"I admit, I'm curious myself. If your willing to demonstrate?"
Wordlessly, I pressed the bead to my throat, turning to Professor Moody.
"Statio," I said, my voice reverberating like a thunderclap.
Moody froze, and I turned to Dumbledore, who was watching with shock.
"My boy…" he said slowly, watching the statuesque form of Professor Moody as his magical eye darted around wildly. "How…?"
"I'll just undo it," I said, glancing back at Moody. "Aiw."
Immediately, Moody unfroze, whipping out his wand and pointing it at me.
"Accio!"
The clay bead shot out of my hand, and he clenched it tightly in a fist.
"What was that!" he growled.
I probably shouldn't have done that.
"Don't you usually wear enchanted robes?" Dumbledore asked, watching Professor Moody closely.
"Yes! And a dragonskin vest," Moody said, still staring at me. "What did you do, Le Fay?"
"It's sound-based," I said, trying to stay relaxed and non-threatening, even as I suppressed the urge to bristle at the Professor's scowl. I definitely shouldn't have done that. "Most spells take a second or so to hit their target and they're all brightly coloured and obvious. So I tried to make something that took effect as soon as it's heard. I got the idea from enchanted musical instruments."
Moody watched me closely, scowling, before switching his attention to the clay bead, scrutinising it.
"The runes are starting to fray," he said after a second. "You won't get much more use out of this."
I nodded slowly, sighing in relief at the fact he'd stopped glaring at me. Why had I done something so Puck-damned reckless?
"I'll be taking this," he said, glancing at me with his normal eye, and again, I nodded. I wasn't about to stop him. Not after that little stunt.
It wasn't like he'd be able to replicate it after all. It required a base of clay enchanted by an ichneumon after all.
"Albus," Moody said, nodding to the headmaster. "Le Fay, meet me in the Defence classroom next Saturday at ten. I'll be teaching you the Patronus spell.
"Yes professor," I said with a small nod.
His blue eye watched me for a moment, before he huffed, marching out the door.
"You made a good impression on him," Dumbledore said with a small chuckle as the door slammed shut.
"How can you tell?" I asked, still staring at the exit.
"If he took issue with you," Dumbledore said slowly, grabbing a lemon drop from the crystal bowl on his desk, "then he would have done more than just take your clay bead. Of course, now he's going to try his damndest to push you to become an Auror."
I nodded, still watching the door.
If Tonks could survive Mad-Eye Moody, then he couldn't be that bad.
Right?
I think that's because most fanfic writers (myself included) consider Umbridge an obstacle to be overcome, instead of a challenge to be undermined. You do bring up some good points though. I think the closest I've seen to this occurring in fanfics is a one-shot where everyone who succeeded put down Harry as their defence teacher (while all the people who failed had put down Umbridge), so it's definitely an underutilised idea.
Moody shouldn't be looking to replicate the effect. He should be looking into how to evade it. I have a feeling that our MC would use that to escape rather than win a fight. Oh, he could blow holes in everyone it froze, but he'd be much better off running.
It would be nice if he had it reusable. Then he could just keep it on him. Oneshot last defense measure works as well. He should toss in something to erase the runes afterward though. If he actually needed to use it during combat, he wouldn't have a chance to gather it up and prevent someone else from trying to understand it.
It would be nice if he had it reusable. Then he could just keep it on him. Oneshot last defense measure works as well. He should toss in something to erase the runes afterward though. If he actually needed to use it during combat, he wouldn't have a chance to gather it up and prevent someone else from trying to understand it.
Christmas duelling
As the Christmas snow drifted down peacefully across Diagon Alley, I sat in the stands of the pop-up duelling tournament, ignoring the cheering crowd and Ludo Bagman's sonorous commentary, trying to focus on happy thoughts.
It was annoying. I had been trying to cast the Patronus for months now, but I had yet to find a memory happy enough to work. Sure, I had memories of peaceful moments, and elated victories, but no moments of pure happiness. It was starting to get on my nerves.
"Your brother should be up soon," Père said, nudging me. "He seems pretty confident."
"Yeah," I said, glancing around. The worries about the Patronus could wait. "You think he'll win?" I asked.
"Yes," Père said without a moment's hesitation. "Your brother is canny and quite skilled. I have full faith in him. I'm more excited to see you and him in the team duel. Are you prepared for that?"
I nodded slowly, glancing around at the stands and the stage below where two people were flinging spells back and forth.
"Nervous?" Père asked, giving my shoulder a short squeeze. "You shouldn't be. I'm just proud of you for participating. You're a lot younger than I was when I had my first duel."
"I'm a bit nervous," I admitted. "Though, it's mainly because I've never been in a duel before. Our Defence Professor at Hogwarts has gone over it all, but he was an Auror, not a competitive duelist."
Père chuckled softly.
"You worried that you'll slip and do something your Auror professor taught you. Something that's not allowed here?"
"Basically," I said.
"Don't worry," Père said with a small smile. "Just focus on defence, take potshots, and let Giles lead."
I nodded slowly, turning back to the stage as one of the competitors knocked the other into the barrier. I was more worried I'd slip and try to transfigure the stage in the heat of the moment. Battle magic, after all, was partially about altering the environment to your advantage, while duelling was about winning while keeping the environment intact.
That was one lesson Professor Moody hadn't let me forget after we'd finished our first disastrous attempt at a practice duel.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Before I knew it, I was in the waiting tent with Giles, preparing for the team match.
"You all know the rules?" Ludo Bagman asked, striding between Giles and me, and the other two competitors. "Just for those who don't, here's a refresher: Its charms and jinxes only. No transfiguration, no permanent disfigurement, and if you hold up a shield for over a minute, you're out."
I nodded, taking a deep breath.
"Now, get to your places," Bagman said with a grin. "Walk out when I give the introduction."
"Your ready, Carnac?" Giles asked as we walked out of the tent and along the stage, before the stands and the cheering crowd.
"Let's do this," I said simply, focusing on the cobbled street.
----------------------------------------------------------------
"To the right," Bagman said, voice echoing around the alley, cutting through the chatter in the stands, "we have the brothers, Giles and Carnac Le Fay!"
Taking a deep breath, I followed Giles up the steps to the stage. Instantly, the roaring of the crowd faded into the background as we passed the wards.
"And to the left," Ludo continued, "we have Scabior Turner and Alexi Avery!"
I stared at the two figures across from us. Avery was a Death Eater, and I vaguely recalled Scabior was some kind of Snatcher in the last Harry Potter book.
I focused on the two, fighting the urge to bare my teeth. These two were a couple of pure-blood Slytherin pissants.
Now we had to win! For ethical reasons, of course.
"On my mark, the match begins," Ludo sonared. "Contestants bow."
I bowed and I saw the two across from us follow suit.
"Three, two, one, begin!"
I started with a stunner. Nice and simple. Scabior blocked it with a shield, but the impact made him step back.
Grinning, I erected a shield to defend Giles from a flash of blue, before sending a silent dancing jinx Avery's way, probing for weakness, but the guy shielded himself in the nick of time.
I switched back to Scabior as Giles took over hammering at his shield, firing a knockback jinx at the Snatcher, then another, and another, but the blighter batted them aside with swift flicks of his wand, sending the spells into the protective barrier now in place around the stage.
"Petrificus Totalus!" he yelled, taking advantage of my surprise at that casual spell redirection. I cast protego to protect Giles just as the spell hit, wincing as it impacted the shield.
"Expelliarmus," I said out loud, wandlessly casting it as I batted aside two more jinxes from Avery, before Giles drew the Death Eater's focus away from me. It would be so much easier to just summon his wand with an accio, but that was against the rules.
Scabior batted aside my spells again, and again and again as I shot jinx after charm, putting him on the defensive. I scowled. If he put the shield up, I'd be able to pin him down with a bombardment, but he was being cautious. I moved to warp the stage, to throw him off his feet, only to stop myself in the nick of time. I couldn't do that here. It wasn't allowed.
"Incarcerous!" Avery shouted, and thick ropes shot through the air towards me. Giles flicked them aside and returned fire with a Petrificus Totalus.
"Vestio anima!" Scabior called, and I glanced away from Avery just in time to see the spell spark against Gile's hastily cast shield, right in front of me. He'd just tried to tag me with a clothes-controlling jinx! Cheeky bugger! We couldn't have that!
Giles kept the shield up as Avery and Scabior took turns hammering away at it, while I lifted my wand, pointing it into the air.
"Avis."
With a bang, yellow birds and smoke flew skyward. Giles paused in shock, and his shield faltered, and I had to halt the spell to guard him against an opportunistic shot from Avery.
As the birds dived, Scabior tried to swipe them away while Avery shielded, but they were on the defensive now.
My flipendo hammered into Avery's shield, making him stagger. Grinning, I tried again, but the guy was smart, sinking to the stage to lower his centre of gravity. It wouldn't matter soon, though. I only needed a minute of this to disqualify him.
"Depulso!" Scabior said, finishing off the last of the birds before turning his wand back on us. "Ignes fatui!"
In an instant, shimmering lights ballooned out of his wand, flashing back and forth across the stage.
"Avis!" I said again, but as the birds shot out of my wand, the lights honed in on them, strobing them.
"Serpensortia!"
I froze as the snake exploded from Avery's wand, thudding to the floor in the middle of the stage with an angry hiss. It took precedent. I needed to kill it. I could practically feel my animagus form trying to attack.
"Flipendo!"
In an instant, I was flying. Confused. The barrier caught me and I blinked in shock.
What had just happened‽
----------------------------------------------------------------
One of the assistants helped me out of the magical barrier, and I met a tired-looking Giles as he limped off the stage.
"That was bloody brilliant!" I said with an exhausted grin. "Although, after all that, I think need a rest."
"What happened?" I asked as a mediwitch bustled over, casting a few examination charms on us before hurrying off.
"You went down," Giles said. "I was too focused on that Scabior guy to shield you. As soon as you were gone, it was over. They just overwhelmed me. I got tagged by a binding spell almost instantly."
"Puck damn it," I growled, glancing up at the stage where the two were bowing to the crowd. "Well, at least we gave them a good fight."
"I'm pretty sure Scabior was holding back," Giles said, running his hand through his hair. "He just seemed too relaxed to be taking things seriously."
I frowned, glancing at where the two duelist death-eaters had been. Weird. I thought Scabior was just a henchman in the other time.
"Anyway," Giles said, leaning on my shoulder, "how was this for a Christmas event? It kind of makes up for there being no Triwizard tournament!"
I rolled my eyes at Gile's antics.
"I much preferred this over whatever they'd have come up with for those death games," I replied.
"Death games!" Giles exclaimed with a cheeky grin. "I think you mean 'ancient and noble sporting event!'"
"As if!" I retorted. "Come on, let's get back to the stands. I want to see the next match."
"Sure thing little brother," Giles said. "And… thanks. For doing this."
I nodded. We may have lost, but it was Christmas. The last Christmas I'd have here with my family.
I was going to enjoy it to its fullest.
It was annoying. I had been trying to cast the Patronus for months now, but I had yet to find a memory happy enough to work. Sure, I had memories of peaceful moments, and elated victories, but no moments of pure happiness. It was starting to get on my nerves.
"Your brother should be up soon," Père said, nudging me. "He seems pretty confident."
"Yeah," I said, glancing around. The worries about the Patronus could wait. "You think he'll win?" I asked.
"Yes," Père said without a moment's hesitation. "Your brother is canny and quite skilled. I have full faith in him. I'm more excited to see you and him in the team duel. Are you prepared for that?"
I nodded slowly, glancing around at the stands and the stage below where two people were flinging spells back and forth.
"Nervous?" Père asked, giving my shoulder a short squeeze. "You shouldn't be. I'm just proud of you for participating. You're a lot younger than I was when I had my first duel."
"I'm a bit nervous," I admitted. "Though, it's mainly because I've never been in a duel before. Our Defence Professor at Hogwarts has gone over it all, but he was an Auror, not a competitive duelist."
Père chuckled softly.
"You worried that you'll slip and do something your Auror professor taught you. Something that's not allowed here?"
"Basically," I said.
"Don't worry," Père said with a small smile. "Just focus on defence, take potshots, and let Giles lead."
I nodded slowly, turning back to the stage as one of the competitors knocked the other into the barrier. I was more worried I'd slip and try to transfigure the stage in the heat of the moment. Battle magic, after all, was partially about altering the environment to your advantage, while duelling was about winning while keeping the environment intact.
That was one lesson Professor Moody hadn't let me forget after we'd finished our first disastrous attempt at a practice duel.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Before I knew it, I was in the waiting tent with Giles, preparing for the team match.
"You all know the rules?" Ludo Bagman asked, striding between Giles and me, and the other two competitors. "Just for those who don't, here's a refresher: Its charms and jinxes only. No transfiguration, no permanent disfigurement, and if you hold up a shield for over a minute, you're out."
I nodded, taking a deep breath.
"Now, get to your places," Bagman said with a grin. "Walk out when I give the introduction."
"Your ready, Carnac?" Giles asked as we walked out of the tent and along the stage, before the stands and the cheering crowd.
"Let's do this," I said simply, focusing on the cobbled street.
----------------------------------------------------------------
"To the right," Bagman said, voice echoing around the alley, cutting through the chatter in the stands, "we have the brothers, Giles and Carnac Le Fay!"
Taking a deep breath, I followed Giles up the steps to the stage. Instantly, the roaring of the crowd faded into the background as we passed the wards.
"And to the left," Ludo continued, "we have Scabior Turner and Alexi Avery!"
I stared at the two figures across from us. Avery was a Death Eater, and I vaguely recalled Scabior was some kind of Snatcher in the last Harry Potter book.
I focused on the two, fighting the urge to bare my teeth. These two were a couple of pure-blood Slytherin pissants.
Now we had to win! For ethical reasons, of course.
"On my mark, the match begins," Ludo sonared. "Contestants bow."
I bowed and I saw the two across from us follow suit.
"Three, two, one, begin!"
I started with a stunner. Nice and simple. Scabior blocked it with a shield, but the impact made him step back.
Grinning, I erected a shield to defend Giles from a flash of blue, before sending a silent dancing jinx Avery's way, probing for weakness, but the guy shielded himself in the nick of time.
I switched back to Scabior as Giles took over hammering at his shield, firing a knockback jinx at the Snatcher, then another, and another, but the blighter batted them aside with swift flicks of his wand, sending the spells into the protective barrier now in place around the stage.
"Petrificus Totalus!" he yelled, taking advantage of my surprise at that casual spell redirection. I cast protego to protect Giles just as the spell hit, wincing as it impacted the shield.
"Expelliarmus," I said out loud, wandlessly casting it as I batted aside two more jinxes from Avery, before Giles drew the Death Eater's focus away from me. It would be so much easier to just summon his wand with an accio, but that was against the rules.
Scabior batted aside my spells again, and again and again as I shot jinx after charm, putting him on the defensive. I scowled. If he put the shield up, I'd be able to pin him down with a bombardment, but he was being cautious. I moved to warp the stage, to throw him off his feet, only to stop myself in the nick of time. I couldn't do that here. It wasn't allowed.
"Incarcerous!" Avery shouted, and thick ropes shot through the air towards me. Giles flicked them aside and returned fire with a Petrificus Totalus.
"Vestio anima!" Scabior called, and I glanced away from Avery just in time to see the spell spark against Gile's hastily cast shield, right in front of me. He'd just tried to tag me with a clothes-controlling jinx! Cheeky bugger! We couldn't have that!
Giles kept the shield up as Avery and Scabior took turns hammering away at it, while I lifted my wand, pointing it into the air.
"Avis."
With a bang, yellow birds and smoke flew skyward. Giles paused in shock, and his shield faltered, and I had to halt the spell to guard him against an opportunistic shot from Avery.
As the birds dived, Scabior tried to swipe them away while Avery shielded, but they were on the defensive now.
My flipendo hammered into Avery's shield, making him stagger. Grinning, I tried again, but the guy was smart, sinking to the stage to lower his centre of gravity. It wouldn't matter soon, though. I only needed a minute of this to disqualify him.
"Depulso!" Scabior said, finishing off the last of the birds before turning his wand back on us. "Ignes fatui!"
In an instant, shimmering lights ballooned out of his wand, flashing back and forth across the stage.
"Avis!" I said again, but as the birds shot out of my wand, the lights honed in on them, strobing them.
"Serpensortia!"
I froze as the snake exploded from Avery's wand, thudding to the floor in the middle of the stage with an angry hiss. It took precedent. I needed to kill it. I could practically feel my animagus form trying to attack.
"Flipendo!"
In an instant, I was flying. Confused. The barrier caught me and I blinked in shock.
What had just happened‽
----------------------------------------------------------------
One of the assistants helped me out of the magical barrier, and I met a tired-looking Giles as he limped off the stage.
"That was bloody brilliant!" I said with an exhausted grin. "Although, after all that, I think need a rest."
"What happened?" I asked as a mediwitch bustled over, casting a few examination charms on us before hurrying off.
"You went down," Giles said. "I was too focused on that Scabior guy to shield you. As soon as you were gone, it was over. They just overwhelmed me. I got tagged by a binding spell almost instantly."
"Puck damn it," I growled, glancing up at the stage where the two were bowing to the crowd. "Well, at least we gave them a good fight."
"I'm pretty sure Scabior was holding back," Giles said, running his hand through his hair. "He just seemed too relaxed to be taking things seriously."
I frowned, glancing at where the two duelist death-eaters had been. Weird. I thought Scabior was just a henchman in the other time.
"Anyway," Giles said, leaning on my shoulder, "how was this for a Christmas event? It kind of makes up for there being no Triwizard tournament!"
I rolled my eyes at Gile's antics.
"I much preferred this over whatever they'd have come up with for those death games," I replied.
"Death games!" Giles exclaimed with a cheeky grin. "I think you mean 'ancient and noble sporting event!'"
"As if!" I retorted. "Come on, let's get back to the stands. I want to see the next match."
"Sure thing little brother," Giles said. "And… thanks. For doing this."
I nodded. We may have lost, but it was Christmas. The last Christmas I'd have here with my family.
I was going to enjoy it to its fullest.
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UnfortuWatcher
(Verified Lovecraftian Horror)
- Location
- Genellian
He keeps forgetting that the people that survived the last war are the people that won their fights.
- Location
- England
Oh no! The snake has taken the President hostage. Killing the snake takes precedent now.
Arimai
Curmudgeon
I see his form got leaked quite quickly. Oh well. I hope he prepares lethal options when the time comes. Mollycoddling terrorists as Dumbledore did in the last war will be detrimental in the coming conflict. The Death Eaters and their supporters need to be purged just like the Nazis following Nuremberg. Create their own version of Mossad's Nazi hunters and Ukraine's newly formed counterpart to hunt Russian War criminals.