The bird chirped beautiful, a nice high pitched twitter. It resided in a small circular cage with wires running vertically down. Its partner was quiet as it looked in the opposite direction. It was observing the figure walking past the room, his dull footsteps echoing throughout the corridors. He was tall, thin, and lean. The shadows of the hallways covered his face, casting him in shadow. His clothes were black, the only sign of contrast was his pale, sickly white hair.
He walked up towards an ancient tapestry. Its image depicted the capture of a pure white unicorn with a very long silver horn. Surrounding it was a wooden fence. The creature was reared back, his mane flying as it protested its capture. It had a metal collar chuckled to its neck. The color had faded greatly but you could still see and feel the fear and sadness in its sky blue eyes. Surrounding the poor, unfortunate soul was a crowd of people, laughing and pointing as it fuitily tried to escape. The boy paused as he looked at the pure creature, not seeing how he was the beast as well. Pure at heart but caged by the darkness of the world. Alone and weak.
The boy whispered words to the wall and tapestry, looking behind his back as he waited it to comply. The Room of Requirement shifted according to his needs, a metal and stone door forming behind the tapestry. The boy pushed it aside and entered the room.
There was the faint noise of moth wings fluttering, the eery echo of a skipping record grating against his ears. The air was stale with dust. The room was filled with cabinets and desks, old ruined pieces of furniture destroyed and piled into small mountains. Each shelf was full of creepy and ancient antiques, much like what you would find in a Professor's office or an old abandoned museum. He cautiously walked further into the room as he turned his head to gaze in wonderment at what he was presented with. There was a small pathway through all the rubble and he followed it while casually throwing an apple up into the air and catching it with a loud slap of sound. His right hand rested in his pocket. If anyone had walked in, it would have appeared as if he was taking an afternoon stroll. If, of course, they missed his apprehensive gaze and tense shoulders.
He walked past a group of hanging chandeliers, a faint bang echoed throughout the room. The birds chirps were a whisper, the creaking of the room setting him on edge. He stopped at a window, the light illuminating his nervous and pale face. He turned around apprehensively. Behind him was a large and tall piece of furniture covered with a faded red and white patterned rug. He walked up to it and grasped the red in his right hand while grasping the apple tightly in his left. Please be it he thought. He pulled down and the coarse fabric fell from the object with a loud gush of wind.
The object revealed was a large black and dark brown cabinet. The Vanishing Cabinet. Draco was caught between feeling smug and being intimidated. It was very tall, the edges outlined by an intricate design of metal. The wood looked very old and creaked slightly. It was cast in shadows and seemed to ooze an ominous aura. Draco swallowed slowly before a smirk began to form across his face.
Finally.
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The dense mist distorted the environment as the blanket of fog caressing the ground. The dew was so condensed that it mimicked a light rain, soaking everything it touched. The Quidditch arena was reduced to black shadows amongst the gray whitewash, the large structure intimidating and vacant. A single figure clad in red and gold glided down from the sky, his broom steady beneath him. As he approached the ground, a small group of figures came into view. Boys and girls of various ages were gathered, chattering together in anticipation.
All but one.
Ronald Weasley stood in the foreground, facing his best friend Harry Potter and his little sister Ginny. His expression was that of pure desolation and hopelessness. The aura around him was so heavy with the impending doom and foreboding Ron was expecting. His already naturally pale skin was ashen, nearly translucent. The cold did not even touch him, his clothes sagging against his skin as the muscle pads seemed to swallow him. His eyes were hollow, staring into oblivion as a miserable scowl claimed his mouth. Harry and Ginny could not help but despair upon looking at him and his white-knuckled grip on his broom. They awkwardly exchanged glances, Harry's own nerves intensifying.
"All right. Um....Okay. This morning, I'm gonna be putting you all through a few drills just to assess your strengths." The chattering intensified as the younger students sparred and clanged their brooms together as they playfully pushed and shoved each other.
"Quiet! Please!" Harry's pleas fell on deaf ears.
"Shut it!" Ginny's yell echoed across the playing field silencing everyone with her presence. The now calm and intimidated congregation of people looked forward at Harry and Ginny with wide and shocked eyes. The transition from discord to order caused Harry to falter. that, and the immense attraction he felt upon seeing Ginny take charge. He cleared his throat in an attempt to regain his masculinity.
Up on the benches, a figure clad in a black winter coat with a gray infinity scarf wrapped around his neck looked down on Harry with a scrutinizing gaze. He sighed, thinking of all the things he would have to teach Harry about being a leader. As it stood now, the young Ginny was a better leader than him. He also watched how the students held themselves, how they reacted and so on. Ron would also need some help. freezing up on a battlefield was not an option. His blazing eyes scanned the females gushing around him, noticing Hermione and some other girl transfixed on Ronald's form. His gaze returned towards the field as Harry began speaking, using his enhanced sense to listen and gaze upon them.
Harry shuffled slightly on his feet. He didn't like the eyes focusing on him and he couldn't feel like he was under a looking glass, nor the attraction he felt upon seeing Ginny take command. "Thanks....Alright. Um....Now then, remember, just because you made the team last year does not guarantee you a spot this year. Is that clear?" The members shifted a bit, nervous at this announcement but, many puffed up their chest with confidence. These trials should be a cinch.
"Good." For some reason, this final word seemed to cement the foreboding feeling in Harry's stomach. Up in the bleaches, the figure's broke into a wolfish grin, the closest thing to a smile he had achieved in years. Let's see what these children can do. Everyone else besides him were speaking amongst one another, not even noticing the field below them. In the corner of his eye, he saw a private and closed off girl timidly wave to someone below. Then look around and retract her hand. Who would have thought....
"No hard feelings, Weasley, all right?" A large and very tall boy walked up beside the nervous and insecure Ron with an arrogant confidence. He slapped his hand onto the smaller boy's shoulder and shook it with teasing vigor.
"Hard feelings?" The boy stepped forward and tilted his head back, puffing up his chest, casually showing off his superiority.
"Yeah, I'll be going out for Keeper as well. It's nothing personal." His gaze returned to the bleachers.
"Really? Strapping guy like you? You've got more of a Beater's build don't ya think? Keepers need to be quick, agile." The younger boy whipped his hand out, catching a fly in mid air, right in front of Ron's face and squished it.
"Oh, I like my chances." He rubbed his finger together, effectively destroying the bug as his gaze once more, returned to the bleachers. "Say, think you could introduce me to your friend Granger? Wouldn't mind getting on a....first name basis, know what I mean? " He clapped Ron on the back again with a friendlier intent and walked away. Ron fought against his desire to break down and cry while puking because of the asshole that approached him. And with that, the trials started.
The asshole flew up and in front of the goals he had to protect, swinging his broom stick around with perfect control. Ron flew up to the opposite side, wobbling and losing balance as he tried to make a graceful stop. It looked like every ounce of his concentration was focused on staying balanced and upright on his broom. Fellow students on the bleachers yelled out encouragement for Weasley, and two girls looked particularly concerned for him and his success. The black figure noticed this with a curious amusement. It reminded him of a much more innocent time in his life, when crushes were the only thing he had to worry about.
It was a battle between Cormac and Ron, the tension palpable between them from across the gaming field. Hermione looked on in distress between them, two different battles going on inside her.
Ginny flew around the arena with finesse. She dodged and wove through all of the younger Gryffindors, her red hair flailing wildly behind her. Two of the contestants were right on her tail trying to reach her. With a simple loop and fast dodge, she drove her two followers into each other, the boys falling off of their brooms due to the collision. They slammed into the ground, rolling on top of each other as Ginny gracefully flew off. Two other opponents tried to get her but she simply dodged their attacks. She flew up to the goals and threw it in, only for Cormac to fly up and slam the ball away. Again and again, try after try, Cormac successfully defended the three goals against Ginny's attacks. He was graceful, powerful, and precise with his movements. He was a natural on the broom, perfectly in sync and in control. With each display and pose Cormac gave, Ron's resentment grew, along with his insecurity and anger.
Ron was also succeeding in defending his goals. In a Ron kind of way. He was stiff on his broom, lightly lifting himself to slam the balls away. He'd awkwardly kick out a leg, slam out an arm, sacrifice his head in order to prevent a score. Percy found the comparison between the two boys humorous and couldn't help relating and sympathizing with Ron. His first few lessons with a sword were downright embarrassing. After Ron kicked out his leg once more, he lost balance, only staying a float by gripping onto the edge of his broom stick. He struggled, losing altitude in tiny, stressing jerks. From up above observing the tryouts, Harry cheered on his friend, begging him to get up.
"Come on, Ron." He shuffled anxiously on his broom, hopeful that Ron could somehow, by some miracle, prevail in the trials. On the bleachers, Lavender was halfway up on her seat, beside herself with anxiety. Looking up at her beloved Ron struggling was heart-wrenching for her. She smiled with pride and gushing admiration as Ron pulled himself onto the broom with masculine gusto. Or at least what she perceived as gusto. Hermione' expression was slightly tortured, torn as she watched Ron struggle only to sigh with relief as he got back up. Percy's gaze kept switching between four different people. So that's how it is.
He watched as Hermione brought her hand up to her face, almost as if to conceal a yawn or sneeze. But to his surprise, he heard her whisper a spell, thanks to his enhanced senses. Confundus. He was curious what this spell would do and eagerly looked back onto the field. As Ginny prepared to strike a goal, Cormac's broom shifted abruptly to the side, letting the ball sail through the goal. The young arrogant boy looked down on his broom in confusion as both Percy and Hermione smiled to themselves. He deserved it, though Hermione seemed particularly smug. As Cormac began to lose his bravado, Ron continued with his personalized broom acrobatics. Lavender would jump up, beside herself with giddy glee. She would whisper praises to him under her breath, totally infatuated.
And with that, the trials were over.
Percy P.O.V
This strange Quidditch game is very different from Capture the Flag but I can see some of its appeal. The players were very physical, quick to react and adapt to their opponents, and relied very heavily on team efforts. At least in theory. This Cormac student has a terrible ego and air of arrogance. Unfortunately, he has the talent to back up his cocky attitude. He was excellent. Anticipating the movements of both his team and the opponent's was a valuable skill. He controlled his broom efficiently and was perfectly balanced. Only downside, his personality and overall character.
Ron on the other hand, I have to sympathize with him to some degree. While pathetic and weak, he was the underdog who could pull random tricks out of his ass to save his skin. Much like me in my tortuous and embarrassing youth. It was indeed amusing to watch him match Cormac by protecting his goals with the most outrageous and random movements like a head butt and leg kick. It was almost like a three legged man dancing; beautifully poetic yet clumsy and off beat all at once. I wonder if I was ever like that in the beginning of my career as a world saving cursed demigod. Knowing me and my horrid luck, I was worse.
I was also intrigued by Harry's choice. It was obvious from the beginning that he favored Ron for the position, but only because of their friendship. Cormac, sadly, is the better player. Yet, despite this fact which everyone watching noticed in regards to their ability, Harry picked Ron. I would have picked differently. I would have accepted Cormac onto the team and given him the starting player role, keeping Ron as a trainee or a back up instead. Then, I would beat Cormac down and dent his attitude, teaching him humility while I used his ability to succeed and win, all while training and helping Ron get better. Harry sacrificed the success of his team and house to spare his friend a wounded ego and feelings. That will cause him and his team to suffer inevitably. I cannot help but reflect the leadership of his team to how he will lead the resistance against Voldywart. Picking the weaker wizard out of sentiment to fight or defend in a major role is asking for failure. I would rather have the better, smarter, and more capable by my side so as to strengthen my side, keeping the weaker wizards towards the back or on less meaningful duties. It might be heartless, but it lessens the casualties.
But I understand Harry. Having your friends by your side fighting, watching your back...there is not greater comfort, no greater strength. Because when you are protecting something, that is when you are truly strong. But if your friends aren't strong enough, and you're not strong enough...they'll die. I'd rather deal with an asshole then lose my friends.
I've accepted that there will always be losses. It would be naive to think otherwise. Sadly, I was once naive. And that cost me.
I waited for the small gaggle of Gryffindor students to leave and descend from the bleachers. I don't think any of them noticed me, or if they did, they neither cared or recognized me. For that I was grateful. It was curious to watch them pass by me. Children, ignorant and sheltered from everything around them. In total and complete bliss. They say ignorance is bliss but I for one would rather bear the pain of knowledge. They were so young, so different from how I am and how the children I grew up around were. I constantly forget that physically, in this realm, I am just barely an adult. A simple 18 who, if I was normal, would only have the ability to buy a packet a cigarettes, a lighter, and vote for the lesser of two evils in regards to politics and legislature. But no, this 18 year old has blown up countless building and land masses, held the sky to keep the Earth from crushing, created tsunamis, typhoons, hurricanes, has lead armies, fought in multiple wars, went through literal hell, has been nearly drained of blood, drowned, has had a forced amnesia, forced into godhood, has had to bury his family, friends, and soulmate, has been chased by the government, shot, hunted, discriminated against, has been abused, malnourished, bullied, beaten and a whole bunch of other bullshit no human being should have to suffer through.
The Fates and I really need to have a little chat about of the shit they've put me through. I don't deserve happiness, but I do deserve a break from time to time. But no, now I have to lead my newly discovered idiot cousin into a war against a crazy wizard.
As if my life and family didn't have enough issues already.
I was pulled from my musings as the sound of an owl hoot assaulted my ears. I looked up to see a large dark brown owl gliding down towards me. On instinct, I ducked, covering my head as I soared towards my face with its claws extended. I swiftly turned around as the owl swooped towards me again. Seeing that the bird meant no to little harm, I stood still, waiting to see what it would do. Instead of trying to claw my eyes out, it simply perched itself on my shoulder and nibbled my ear lobes, drawing a bit of ichor. It seemed to have been chuckling, a high pitched cackling escaping its beak as the bird's fluffy body shook from amusement.
"You had enough yet?" I mumbled to the bird. It seemed to have understood me as it soon stopped, but I didn't miss the mischievous gleam in its eye. Dam bird. It ruffled its feathers before rubbing its head against my own, almost as if it wanted my attention. I held out my arm and the bird quickly hopped its way to my forearm. It leaned down and tugged at a crimson velvet string wrapped and tied around the base of its foot attached to a long scroll of parchment. Intrigued, I lightly pushed its head away, only to receive a large peck in return as I untied the message.
Professor Perseus Jackson,
I couldn't help but cringe at the formal use of my full name.
You have hereby been summoned to a meeting in Headmaster Dumbledore's office with the other Professors and staff of this establishment. We have received various complaints in regards to your class and teaching style. We must also discuss your schedule regarding the balance between your teaching and learning within this school throughout this year. Please report to Headmaster Dumbledore immediately after reading this message.
Sincerely,
Professor Minerva McGonagall
Well, looks like I'm being called to the Principal's office for reprimanding. Naughty, naughty me. As if I give a shit.
I quickly crumpled the parchment in my hands, setting my palms on fire as I watched it burn. I let the ashes fall to the ground, the windy lightly blowing it away. The bird ruffled up again and I brought my hand up to pet it. I rubbed my thumb along its feathers right above its beak in between its eyes. Its eyes lids grew hooded and closed halfway in bliss. Turns out owls can be civil towards me. Or this one just fell on its head too many times when it was a little. I'm going to place my bets on that option.
I sighed and the owl took this as a sign of goodbye. It dug its talons into my shoulder before launching off and away. With just a few powerful flap of its wings, it was soaring and gliding into the mist. I looked at it as it flew away, and I couldn't help but feel a drop within me. I couldn't help but take it as a sign. As a memory. A painful reminder of my Wise Girl and the trial I went through to make her mine. I don't think I will ever be able to look at an owl indifferently. It will always hurt me in some degree.
With that, I focused on the air around me, every particle, every molecule. I felt the life around me, the pulse and flow of the plants and breeze. I centered myself, merging my own body with the energy and water around me. I felt myself become one with the water, becoming mist. I then pictured the office in my mind. It's smell, the light, the dry air. I flew through and transferred myself. I felt the connections with the grass, trees, and fresh air dwindle into oblivion, replaced by the closed off feeling of a building.
I opened my eyes, letting out a breath as I came down from my high. Traveling through the water was different from any kind of flashing. I became one with something bigger than myself. An energy, the true consciousness of nature. The heart of life. Sometimes it would be hard to tear myself away. To reform myself after letting go. To disappear within a part of myself was all I could think about. The only thing tying me down were those under my protection. The entire human race. Talk about a job description.
As I opened my eyes, I realized a large miscalculation I made. I forgot that I was not the only one invited to this glorious meeting. I opened my eyes to the shocked and confused faces of all the other Professors. How to explain this...
3rd Person P.O.V
The Professors had all gathered within the Headmaster's office. Snape clung to the shadows in a corner as the others formed small groups. Minerva stood next to Dumbledore by his desk as he sat down, a look of slight amusement on his face.
"I still cannot understand why you wanted that boy to join us."
"You know why Minerva. He can help and strengthen the school and our students. He can protects us and them."
"We do not need his protection. What could a child possibly offer us?"
"More than you could ever know." Minerva looked to the side at him through her eyes, vexed by his cryptic words and questionable choice in staff. She shared her opinion with most of the other teachers. He was an unknown. Pulled from seemingly out of no where with no professional or credible wizard knowledge or power aside from Dumbledore's word was not acceptable. He was also a child. He seemed just over 18 years old, the age of some of their older students. Not the age of a successful auror or whatever this child was supposed to be.
To her surprise, and the surprise of everyone int he room, a small swirl of water and air rippled. It opened and expanded into a form before the mist took shape of a body. It then solidified into their very own Professor Perseus Jackson. It was a form of transport or travel none of them had ever seen before.
"Well, don't pause on my account." His deep voice was unexpected. None of them had any real form of contact or conversation with him. He always seemed unapproachable. Tall, dark, silent and powerful set him apart from them all on many levels. He was also very unprofessional. His clothing was very casual. A pair of track pants with a white lining down the side and deep hooded black pullover jacket. The top half of his face was cast in shadow, the only thing showing was his sideways smirk.
"What was that my dear boy? Why, I've never seen anything like it before." Percy looked towards Professor Slughorn. He pulled off his hood and looked the man in the eye.
"It is a type of transport I...invented. Basically, I merge with the water molecules in the air and transfer or travel through them." There was no response to his statement. A type of magic that allows the merging with one of the four basic and most powerful elements was unheard of.
"I guess I just have an affinity to water." Snape scoffed at that statement, drawing some odd glances from his colleagues. Percy gave him a small glare in return but made no other sign of acknowledgment.
"Well, now that we are all gathered, why don't we begin?" No one argued. Percy walked up to the middle of the room. Snape pushed off of his wall and joined him. The rest of the teachers followed after them and they gathered together in a half circle in front of Dumbledore's desk. Minerva seemed a tad bit unsettled but stuck her chin out with authority nevertheless.
"I believe we should address the greatest issue in the room. Professor Jackson, you are aware of the complaints we have received in regards to your class?"
"Not until a little owl perched its talons into my shoulder in order to send your summonings. I gave the students a choice and a chance to leave and save themselves. Those few who did are fine, though less capable of protecting themselves in comparison to their classmates. Those who stayed, foolish or not, are suffering, yes. But that is because they are finally working for once in their lives. They are pulling more than just the weight of a few books. They are pulling the weight of their lives, their future, and their survival. If they want to complain, fine. But they will thank me sooner or later when what I've taught them has saved their lives."
"You make it sound like they will be in danger." Percy turned towards Minerva.
"Everyone is in danger. Do you honestly expect them to be safe, anywhere at anytime? They don't live in an impenetrable bubble."
"But aren't you a little bit too excessive and careless with your teachings? How many injuries have come in because of your class just these past few days?"
"45 and counting for just this week." The gentle teachers unused to violence were astonished.
"That is an unacceptable statistic! The safety of our students should be our top priority and-"
"-and it is!" She backed down at the echo of Percy's voice. They were shocked at the strong aura flaring around him, the pressure almost suffocating. "Do you think I am pushing them to be sadistic? We haven't even begun to speak of weapons. We are just in physical training. Running, obstacles, strengthening and using their muscles. I haven't even started hand to hand combat. And yet they still get injured and hurt. What does that have to say for their ability to perform and protect as of now? They are weak and defenseless!"
"He has a point. We all know it." Everyone's head snapped towards Professor Snape, surprised he was taking the boy's side.
"Last year, we all observed the failure that was Defense Against the Dark Arts under Professor Umbridge." A series of groans and muttered curses followed the mention of that name. Percy took this reaction in with amusement. Apparently he wasn't the most insufferable teacher here. So far. "We challenge the students and push them towards danger under our professional supervision so that they can learn and adapt to the challenges they could possibly face in the future. There are more than just muggle and wizardly threats they will face. There are dangers we are not prepared or accustomed to that Professor Jackson is. It is our job to prepare them. Do any of you deny that fact that he is helping them?" No one spoke out. The case was solid and many of the teachers did observe a slight physical difference in their students, even after so little time.
"He is too extreme!" Minerva sensed that she was losing her argument. But she was not ready to accept the fact that they were so desperate that they needed this course. She didn't want to accept that they were weaker than their enemy. One of the other teachers thought back on Snape's words and a bud of curiosity flared.
"Professor Snape. You mentioned other threats the children would be facing. What could you possibly be referring to that couldn't be taken care of by a simple spell?" Snape turned towards Dumbledore.
"An excellent question. For that however, I believe we would need a demonstration."
"You can't be serious." Dumbledore simply looked at Percy straight in the eyes. "If you please, Professor." The others in the room watched as his shoulders slumped in resignation.
"Now? Because we will have to relocate to my training grounds."
"If we must. I want everyone in this room to experience, first hand, the types of threats we will be facing and what you are teaching the students."
"Actions speak louder than words," Percy mumbled under his breath. "Okay, everyone, circle up. hold hands and close your eyes. Whatever you do, do not let go, and do not look until I say so. If you do, you die. Understood?" They trembled slightly with how nonchalantly he mentioned the possibility of their deaths. "Here goes nothing."
In a nauseating jerk, their world collapse and spun in on itself. The stuffy scent of Dumbledore's office was replaced by the crisp scent of fresh air and the strong desire to vomit.
"Throw up if you need to. You wouldn't be the first." With that, three of the teachers collapsed to the ground heaving.
"Was that truly necessary?"
"Of course not. But it was efficient. So Dumbledore, what do you want me to summon? My allies or foes first?"
"I do believe they would benefit from observing the species and creatures you have befriended or tamed before we observe something trying to kill you."
"Fair point."
Were they bloody mad was the only thought running through everyone's mind. Even Snape, someone privy to the partial truth concerning Percy's identity was questioning their rationality. He knew that Percy had no regard for his own life and feared nothing, especially death, but he never expected Dumbeldore to support him to such a degree.
Professor Jackson walked a fair distance away from the other teachers. He then turned around to face them as he spoke out.
"Some of you may have noticed that I do not have a familiar. Well, you are wrong in thinking I don't have one. I have several, each with their own purpose and connection to me. The reason they are not constantly around is because they are a bit large and opinionated. They are also not your typical familiar. You'll see what I mean in a moment." He brought his thumb and index finger together, forming a circle as he brought them up into his lips.
A loud shrill whistle came out and then a light, almost invisible pulse left from his body, circling out and then traveling across the land around them. He brought his fingers down and looked towards his right off at the horizon. His fellow Professors followed his gaze, trying to spot whatever creature he had apparently summoned. After what appeared to be hours, a small black dot appeared, stark in contrast against the graying mist. The shape was blurred and distorted but they could obviously tell that it was flying and was quite large. Professor Jackson turned to them, a slight smile on his face.
"Do any of you happen to have any donuts at hand?" They looked at him in utter confusion, genuinely wondering if he had lost his mind. They silently shook their heads in synchronization.
"Dam. He's not going to be happy about that."
"What in magic's name could you possibly mean?"
"You'll find out soon enough dear colleague. Patience is a virtue you know." Minerva bristled at his comment but bit her tongue nevertheless. The black dot had taken shape to show a large body with considerably sized wings. It came forward in full blast before an elegant black pegasus cantered down onto the grassy plane, nuzzling up to the young Professor. Their mouths dropped in complete shock as the ancient and untamable creature notoriously known for its relation to the winged horse and rebellious spirit pranced around like a newborn foal.
It was tall with its withers around the height of Professor Jackson's neck and head. Its wings resembled those of a ravens, woven from the shadows themselves. With every flap of his wings, the darkness rippled and it looked as if an ocean of stars twinkled across his feathers. Its eyes were pitch black, but held the depth of a human soul, caressed with humor. It brought up its front hooves, digging them into the ground as he whinnied and neighed in joy at seeing his master. They watched in awe as Percy chuckled and engaged with the horse as if there was nothing amiss.
"I am sorry my dear friend, but I have no donuts for you. Yes, I know I promised. Yes...ahg, Blackjack, stop complaining, I'll get you more. Gods I spoil you too much. No, just because you are my sacred animal does not mean you get to play around with all the females. Behave yourself! I swear you hang out with Arion too much."
"Uh....Percy..." He seemed to have finally remembered that he was not alone and was in fact in front of an audience.
"Ah...right. everyone, this is my first familiar. His name is Blackjack and as you all have probably noticed, he is a pegasus."
"Your first familiar? How many do you have?" He seemed to pause at this, bringing his hand up to his chin in order to think.
"Well, I have Blackie over here, then there is the hound, plus the pack....A lot. I have quite a few familiars. I'm only showing you two today though. Don't want to give you too much of a fright now."
"Will Blackjack be staying here? I know Hagrid would love an opportunity to meet him."
"I see no problem with it. But Blackjack is free to do as he pleases. No one is to touch, control, or disrespect him. He is not a pet nor is he something to abuse." They nodded dumbly at his proclamation, astonished by his loyal protectiveness of the creature.
"What is the next creature? I cannot believe it is something more astonishing than a wild pegasus." Both the boy and his steed seemed to laugh at this comment.
"If only you knew..." he said between chuckles. "Blackjack, I'll send you to my rooms, you'll find space there. And yes, there will be donuts waiting. I'm sending you away because the both of you together is dangerous. Your games of tag get destructive and chaotic. I don't need that right now. Yes, I am summoning her. No, I will not let you sneak attack her. Get going you." With that the horse playfully nipped his friend's shoulder before flying off in the direction of the Hogwarts castle.
"Now, before I summon my next familiar, you must all swear not to attack her."
"Why would we need to swear something like that?
"Just do it. Wands away." They begrudgingly did as he ordered. They looked at him with hesitation and caution. What kind of demon did he befriend? None of them would be surprised if he had indeed befriended a creature of the dark. His aura was terrifying in itself. Instead of chanting a dark enchantment like they feared, he bent down and placed his hands on his knees, looking towards the shadowy Forbidden Forest.
"Here girl! Come here!" Not a moment later, the ground shook with a terrifying boom. The trees rattled, and birds took off, desperate to escape whatever was bounding their way. The tress shook with increasing vigor and they parted ways as an enormous creature came running their way. It was pitch black with amber red eyes. It's pink tongue hung loose in between its razor canines. It had large claws that left deep incisor grooves in the ground behind it. Its fur was darker than the pegasus' and the shadows seemed to cling to it as it charged forward. It dwarfed the size of Hagrid, and made their muscled Professor seem like a small school boy.
It was a creature of hell, a demon dog and yet, its behavior resembled that of a puppy. That, and Professor Jackson was beaming at the sight of it.
"Come here girl!" The hound seemed rejuvenated in strength as it increased in speed. A few of the Professors let out screams as the dog leaped and seemingly crushed Professor Jackson. Snape rushed forward, bringing his wand out, ready to smite this new fearsome creature.
"Donmfgh!!" He stopped at the muffled yell. The dog stepped back and laid down, rolling over on its stomach to reveal Percy. All in one piece, surprisingly. "Don't do anything. Mrs. O'Leary is my second familiar. She's a friend, no matter how large and terrifying she can be." The dog seemed to whine as he paid less attention to her. She waggled her tail and pawed gently at his shoulder. He sighed playfully and turned to her, climbing up on her stomach before generously scratching her exposed stomach. "I love you too! Yes I do! Now Mrs. O'Leary, can you lessen your size for me?" She barked in reply before shrinking to the welcoming size of an adult Great Dane. She rubbed her head against Percy's leg as she sat down obediently by his side as he absentmindedly massaged her ears. Her tongue hung loose as she closed her eyes in absolute bliss.
"Th-tha-that thing is your familiar!?!?!?!" Minerva's voice had gained in octave and seemed near hysterical. "Those creatures shouldn't even exist?!?!?! What kind of dark magic did you use to conjure her servitude?" Percy's eyes darkened at her words.
"Mrs. O'Leary is a hell hound, not the embodiment of everything evil. She was not originally mine. Her first friend and owner died and he passed her care and protection to me. I bonded with her, just as she bonded with me. She has her own mind and heart. All I had to do was show her kindness, loyalty, and respect. I do not control her. She follows me freely. And just because you have never heard of her kind does not mean they don't exist. While she is good, not all of her brethren are. Her kind is one of the less dangerous creatures out there. That's why I am here. To protect you from what magic cannot. You've seen my allies. Are you sure you want to see my enemies now?"
There was no response. Percy was tempted to wave his hand in front of their eyes but suspected they wouldn't notice.
"I think you broke them O'Leary." She simply panted in joy as she directed his hand to scratch her ears and head, oblivious to the distress she caused the ignorant Professors.
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The Common Room for Gryffindor was barely lit from the dull glow of the fireplace and the few lights. The desks were occupied by small groups of students form an array of years and age for studying. You could see students comparing notes, flipping through textbooks, or for the more advanced students, reading some scrolls. There were a few older students who were just lounging in the room, occupying the large padded arm chairs and couches, including the Golden Trio.
"I have to admit, I thought I was going to lose that last one. I hope Cormac's not taking it too hard." Ron couldn't help but let some arrogance and pride seep into his voice. The trio sat in front of the Common Room fireplace. Hermione and Harry were looking through books and newspapers down on the floor as Ron sat on his throne of a couch. They shared a look, thoroughly annoyed with their friend and his newfound ego. They both knew Cormac was the better defender.
"He's got a bit of a thing for you Hermione, Cormac." She couldn't help the agitation showing in her shoulders and spine. She was frustrated with herself for what she did during the tryouts, beginning to slowly regret it.
"He's vile." She tried to ignore Lavender off to the side as the girl shamelessly flirted. Harry was in his own world, absorbed in his potions cheat book.Hermione tried to ignore that as well. For some reason, everything was agitating her. Ron was absorbing the new attention with smiles.
"Have you ever heard of this spell? Sectumsempra?"
"No, I haven't!" It was almost a yell. Her octaves were getting higher, her tone clearly stating she wishes to be left in peace. It also suggesting her growing jealously, frustrations, and anger towards Harry and his bloody book. "And if you had a shred of self-respect, you'd hand that book in." Apparently Harry didn't possess a shred of human decency.
"Not bloody likely," Ron retorted. "He's top of the class." Yes, thank you for reminding me of that Ronald Hermione snapped to herself. "He's even better than you Hermione. Slughorn thinks he's a genius." Hermione slammed the newspaper down on her lap glowering at her oblivious friend. Only because of that dammed book!
"What?" With a controlled breathe, Hermione refocused her attention.
"I'd like to know whose book that was." Who could have been smarter than me in the past? "Let's have a look." She moved to take the book and Harry moved away instantly.
"No." He stood up and Hermione followed. Her stubborn curiosity and pride would not let her drop the issue.
"Why not?" She was adamant. Harry was evasive.
"The binding is fragile."
"The binding is fragile?!" Hermione asked incredulously. She couldn't believe the pathetic excuse he came up with in order to avoid telling her friends. The few scattered Gryffindors left in the Common Room were watching their exchange like a tense tennis match. A very tense tennis match. Or a marriage feud counseling couldn't fix. Whichever they preferred. A few girls beside Ginny leaned towards each other, whispering words of commentary as they watched Harry get cornered.
"Yeah." Harry moved the book behind his back, taking steps away from the advancing red head. Little did he know, Ginny was seated not far away. She snatched the book from his hands and stood up as he tried to take it back. She flipped to the first pages.
"Who's the Half-blood Prince?"
"Who?" Hermione questioned.
"That's what it says right here. This book is property of the Half-Blood Prince." Hermione looked at Harry accusingly while Ginny seemed disappointed with him. She haphazardly threw it back at him. Both females seemed disgusted with his secrecy. Especially when there seemed to be no true secret to keep. They exchanged a glance of alliance and victory, though it was nearly imperceptible.
Harry went to away to a secluded desk, looking over his shoulder as he read the book and the cursive writing in ink. For some reason, this book had a hold on him. The words seemed to swallow him up and he got lost in the curvy loops of the mysterious handwriting. This man seemed to have completely re-written the Potions lesson book.
Hidden from the entire Common Room, Professor Jackson stood above them on the balcony. His spine stiffened at hearing the title Harry's mysterious teacher went under. He had a feeling he knew who this person, or man, was. And the new information added with his hunch did not bode well with him. Especially since he knew Hermione and Harry would get curious and start asking questions. He couldn't afford to allow that. He walked away into the shadows back towards his room, planning a way to control this situation before it became a problem for him.
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"For weeks you carry around this book, practically sleep with it and yet you have no desire to find out who he is?" Hermione was baffled by Harry's apparent lack of curiosity.
"I didn't say I wasn't curious. And I don't sleep with it!" Harry retorted.
Ron decided to chip in. "Well, it's true," he looked back at Harry through the snow. "I like a nice chat before I go to bed. Now all you do is read that bloody book. It's just like being with Hermione." The girl looked at her friends, exasperated by the both of them but decided to ignore Ron's comment.
"Well I was curious so I went to the library-"
"-to the library." They all said in tandem. "And?" Harry questioned?
Hermione held her chin up and couldn't help the agitation and frustration seeping from her voice. "And nothing. I couldn't find a reference anywhere to a Half-blood Prince."
"There we go. That settles it then."
"Perseus!" All three of their heads shot forward at the sound of Professor Slughorn's voice. "I was hoping to find you in the Three Broomsticks." They watched as the large black figure they had seen walking a ways a head of them. He stood out like a sore thumb against the white background of the snowy road and mountains leading down to the pub. The trio stood together in awe at seeing the enigma outside of the school.
"Does anyone fancy a Butterbeer?" They followed behind at a distance as both Professors walked ahead of them. They waited a few moments before entering the pub after them. Time to see if they could get anything out of Professor Slughorn and hopefully solve a piece of the puzzle known as Professor Jackson.
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Here is the now updated and finished Chapter 10. For those of you who don't know, today is my birthday and this is my gift to you!!
I have been working on the Getting to Know the Author: Q and A. I still need questions from you guys so ASK AWAY!
I love you all so much. Thank you so much for your patience and support! I am so honored to have such dedicated fans. Also, are any of you willing to submit cover options fro the story? I would love to see your works and ideas.
Adieu for now,
Aisha
P.S. This has not been edited or read over at all. I wrote it, then published so if its crappy, comment my mistakes so I can address them accordingly.
Thanks so much!! Also, I will give you a free pass to cuss me out for being so late and leaving you guys with a cliffhanger. But only this one time.