Chapter 9 - Giving a Flying Fuck
Harry sighed, last week he had had his sixth and seventh years go through material from year one through four. But today? How they had passed their OWLs he would never know.
"Homework for this week, I want a brief description of each and every spell from the fifth and sixth year textbooks. You don't need to write in full sentences, but I will expect you to be able to perform each spell in class next week. Anyone who fails to cast 70 percent of the spells correctly will be moved down to the sixth year class."
"You can't do that!" A Slytherin protested.
Harry narrowed his eyes on the girl who had spoken, and realized that it was Dolores Umbridge. He knew his smile was less than pleasant when he said, "This is a NEWT class, I will not hold back the other students because some failed to learn previously covered material."
"But we need to pass our exams!" one Ravenclaw student yelled.
"And my sixth years will be able to pass, but the seventh year DADA is more than passing a test. The material covered in this class can end or save lives, and performed incorrectly can do as much harm to the caster as to those around them. This is an issue of safety. I realize your previous professors were less than stellar, but nonetheless, I will not teach a NEWT class as a review class."
Sure, this was Harry's first year teaching this, but when Hermione took the NEWT she had said it had been a bit of joke. The essay questions had been decently challenging but the spells not so much. Harry wanted this group of students to be a team, and ready for the war ahead of them.
He was worried that some of the students might become killers, yes, but this class, like his sixth and first years, was a mix of all four houses.
What if he could change the nature of their differences? Hadn't he and Draco made amends when their lives had been threatened together? If he could just ask more of them, expect more of them, couldn't they change?
"But what if our classes don't line up-"
"Then you will drop this class," Harry declared. "And don't glare at me, you have to have at least received seventy percent on your OWLs in order to receive an Acceptable. And if you didn't at least scrap that then you shouldn't be taking this subject." You should be taking a running course and perfect apparition.
"And how do you know?" another student griped, "You didn't even take the tests."
"No," Harry agreed, "I read the teacher manual." Dumbledore had sent it with the stack of textbooks.
The bell rang and the class departed looking worried.
Harry sighed, sinking into his seat behind his desk.
"Daddy?"
He peaked an open at his son, "Hmmm?"
"Will they listen to you?"
"I don't know."
Teddy frowned down at his picture book, "They should. You're always right."
"Not always," he said, ruffling Teddy's pink curls.
"But you can keep them safe."
Harry smiled weakly, "I'm trying, Teddy, I'm trying."
Teddy stood, placing his book down gently on the desk, and gave his father a hug.
Harry hugged him back tightly, so grateful that he wasn't alone.
"Daddy?"
"Hmmm?"
"Can we adopt Fluffy."
"No."
"But Daddy-"
"No."
Teddy pulled back and pouted, "But he's sooo fluff-"
"Didn't you just say I was always right?"
"But you said you weren't always right."
"We are not adopting a giant three-headed dog. No, absolutely no."
"He's tiny, Daddy."
"Teddy-"
It was a long debate, but eventually, Harry won by saying that Regina would have her feelings hurt.
After dinner, Harry half wanted to give Peter's detention to Filch and be done with it. But perhaps, like with Severus and a few of the other Slytherins, there was a light to be redirected in hopes that they would find a better way.
But Harry soon discovered that not only was there something deeply disturbed about Mr. Pettigrew, but he also had the unsettling feeling that it wasn't safe to have Teddy in the same room as the short-breathed, rat-like fifteen year old. His eyes kept darting to Teddy who was attempting to build the tallest Lego tower he could. And it wasn't just that he was distracted, or his eyes drifting toward the small child, there was something -something that made Harry want to smash his head into the table.
Harry fought back bile as he thought of the thirty-year-old man living with the Weasley children, living with the other boys in the dorms. It was true that he couldn't have transformed without a wand, but he would have had access to others wands when everyone was asleep.
Perhaps, it was what the boy would become, and perhaps Harry was a bastard for holding his future actions against him, but no part of Harry liked or trusted him. Strange how Harry had more sympathies for Bellatrix than Wormtail. But the Black sisters were not traitors, they were just varying shades of crazy. And though the Bellatrix he had met in this timeline was massively unstable, she wasn't the madwoman whose favourite curse was the Cruciatus.
"If your eyes leave that textbook one more time, Mr. Pettigrew," he said darkly, "you will be scrubbing floors with Mr. Filch over the weekend."
"Yes, sir," Peter said, ducking his head.
Harry had him rewriting the textbook, he had the option of either rewriting it word for word or in his own words. It was like doing lines, with the off chance that he might learn something. He likely wasn't and was likely too dimwitted to realize he could use the opportunity to study and take notes.
Harry had been grading others papers, like he had last night after Teddy had recounted his day. But watching Wormtail in his youth was a bit like watching Tom Riddle in Dumbledore's Pensieve in sixth year.
The seventh time Wormtail eyes strayed to Teddy, his entire face rose, not just the eye flicks.
"Get out," Harry said in low voice.
Wormtail gave him a worried look, "Sir, I'm just bored, I don't mean to be distracted."
"Get out," Harry said more forcefully, "Report to Filch before heading back to your dorm, tell him you have detention with him over the weekend."
"But I didn't do anything!" Peter exclaimed.
Harry said nothing, meeting the boy's gaze, and Peter's eyes held for only a moment before flicking to Teddy who was now hiding behind Harry's desk.
Harry went around his desk, and stood in front of the teenager, whose act of timidness, was just that, an act. An act to get those around to believe him harmless, to take pity on him. "Be careful, Mr. Pettigrew." The unsaid words, I'll be watching you, hung unsaid between them.
Peter ducked his head and said meekly, "Of course, Professor." And then he scurried out of the room.
Harry stood in the center of his near-empty classroom and wondered if he had overreacted. He probably had, and he probably shouldn't have given him extra dentition. He hadn't been in the room for more than thirty minutes before Harry had lost his nerve.
"I don't like him," Teddy said from his desk.
Harry turned to see his son's face set in as grim an expression as he had ever seen on his small features.
"Neither do I, avoid him, please? Not everyone at Hogwarts is a good person."
Teddy nodded, "I promise."
And with that Harry wondered if he shouldn't have done more. What if there was something really wrong with Pettigrew? At what point did a child become evil? Or were children not evil, just their actions? What if he was like Tom Riddle? What if Harry did nothing and something terrible happened?
Again, Harry worried that he was overreacting about Wormtail. Hadn't it been Sirius who had nearly killed Snape by way of werewolf at the end of this very year?
But in his gut, he felt that Severus and Sirius could change, could be better than the people they had been, but he had no such inclinations of hope for Mr. Pettigrew.
Harry decided he would keep a close eye on him. He flinched internally, that had been Dumbledore's tactic with Tom Riddle, and that hadn't turned out well, not at all. He wondered if he should tell Dumbledore or Minerva about his worries.
He rolled his eyes at himself, tell them what? A student gave his son a funny look? Everyone looked at Teddy, he was an adorable child of the new professor, and he was also a metamorphmagus with the habit of turning rainbow.
But perhaps, as he was a professor now, their equal, his opinions might have more value than they had when he had been a student. After all, if Harry couldn't act on his knowledge of the future, then his great-great-great-something-grandfather-Peverell would be disappointed.
"What exactly are you saying, Professor Peverell?" Minerva asked him the next day. He had caught her at the end of the day before she left her office.
Teddy was with Hagrid, learning to help bottle feed Fluffy.
Harry sighed, "I am simply expressing my concern for the other students."
"Mr. Pettigrew is hardly a danger to anyone, Mr. Potter and Mr. Black are far more trouble, I assure you."
Harry gritted his teeth, "I am not asking you to do anything, Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House. I'm just hoping you will keep your eyes open around him. You're right, of course, it could be nothing, a thoughtless boy with an attention problem, a regular teenage boy."
"But?" she prompted.
"But I don't believe he is the timid innocent he pretends to be."
Minerva sighed, "Thank you for -informing me of your worries, Rell. I will be observant."
Harry sighed, "Thank you."
She looked at him oddly, "You really care, don't you?"
He raised a brow, "Care about what?"
"The students. Their safety."
He frowned, "Of course, I'm a professor."
She smiled, "Indeed, I will see you at dinner then."
James was infuriated. Yes, Professor Peverell was a good professor.
But he was also an asshat.
What business did he have giving Wormtail more detention on the weekend? Over what? Wormtail hadn't been gone an hour when he said the professor had passed him off to Flitch.
And here James was, missing Quidditch tryouts, and subsequently the first Quidditch practice.
He had naturally made the team, his captain had him 'tryout' yesterday, but still, he was going to miss seeing the poor sods who thought they could fly and miss working with the new team.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, glad you could make it," Professor Peverell said jovially.
James glared at him, "Like you gave me a choice." And then on impulse, he said, "You know my family descended from the Peverells as well."
His green eyes did the Dumbledore twinkle as if he knew something James' didn't. "As I'm told, many of the pureblood lines are connected in some respect."
James shrugged, "So what is it today? Lines? Or are you sending me to Filch too."
Peverell came around the table and handed James the fourth year book, his small son followed at his heels.
James wondered what was wrong with the kid, yes he was cute and all, but he was pretty quiet. Not that he had much experience with little kids, but all the kids he'd seen around his age were always babbling and getting into trouble.
Teddy Peverell was very, contained.
Remus said the same werewolf that had attacked him had gone after his Aunt Naomi. Had her son inherited any of that moon curse? It seemed unlikely though, seeing as Naomi Lupin had only been scared, she hadn't been turned like Remus.
"What do you want me to do with this?" James asked, "Rewrite the book?"
"Nope," Peverell said, picking up his son in a smooth motion. "I would like you to teach us the spells from that book."
James blinked at him, "You want me to do what?"
"You know the spells in that book, don't you?" he asked and at James' nod, "Then it shouldn't be too difficult to teach someone how to do those spells should it."
"But you already know them," he said, feeling his impatience grow. Peverell didn't have all his marbles, and he seemed to like to waste people's time.
"I don't!" Teddy said cheerfully.
"See you can teach Teddy, he's a good listener."
The small boy looked up at his father adoringly, with a proud smile at the compliment he had just received.
"He's three," James protested, exasperated.
"Which means you'll have to explain the spells in simple terms. If you can't explain a subject to a child than you don't really know that subject."
"Fine," he said, taking the book and going to the chalkboard. He turned in time to see Peverell sit on the floor with his son on his lap.
A professor in crisp black robes should have looked ridiculous sitting on the ground, but with Teddy, he just looked like a personable dad.
Though James's his father or his grandfather would ever sit on the ground in public. His mother might have though.
James opened the book and found a spell at random, "Aqua Eructo Charm," he read. Then froze looking at the board then had at his patiently awaiting audience. "Err-" His mind had suddenly gone blank, he knew how to use the spell, he didn't how to explain it. He looked down at the spell's description and knew that Professor Peverell wouldn't accept him just reading from the book, and this particular book wouldn't make any sense whatsoever to Teddy.
A light sweat built at his spine, which was ridiculous, James Potter had never had stage fright in his life.
But he didn't know what to say, and standing before his professor, his words were stuck in his throat. He felt like anything he did say would be stupid
After a minute Peverell took pity on him, "Just start talking. You're just practising. Tell us what you think this spell is good for and anything you find interesting about it."
James took a deep breath and began talking out of his butt.
And despite James' every conviction, he began to really like Professor Rell, who laughed when he said something truly out of bounds and corrected kindly when he said something a bit off.
In two hours, James felt like he had mastered some of last year's material.
Professor Rell must have seen the thought on his face, because he said, "One of the best ways to learn is to teach."
James smirked, "So you're still learning."
"Of course," the professor said without hesitation. "Mr. Potter, the essay I assigned you to read about summoning charms."
"Yes?" James asked, missing the obvious trap.
"You don't have to write it."
"Awesome!"
Peverell smiled, "I would like you to teach the class how to perform the spell."
James excitement instantly turned to horror. Talking to the professor and his son was one thing, but teaching the entire class? If he messed up, even a little bit, the entire class would hold it against him.
"And I will correct you as your presenting, so I suggest you practice."
"Professor I'm not sure-"
"Not sure of what?"
He swallowed, "I mean you already gave me detention. I'm not sure-"
"That the punishment fits the crime?" Professor Peverell, pausing as he organized the papers on his desk. He looked at him with eyes a startling shade of green.
Eyes that looked a lot Lily's. The thought of Lily made him more determined to talk his way out of this assignment.
"Mr. Potter, you attacked a student in my class, and encouraged your friends to do so as well."
"Why do you think it was me who encouraged them?"
"Because Mr. Pettigrew is far too cowardly to act alone, and I've met Mr. Black's family. I don't believe he thinks of the possibility of being expelled the same way you do."
James flushed, Sirius certainly would hate being expelled, but Sirius was hardly more innocent than he was. "Sirius is just as much trouble as I am, being a Black doesn't lessen that."
"No, Mr. Potter, but I believe it is foolish of you to not realize the power you hold over your friends."
James felt anger raise in the pit of his gut, "What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means, to stay friends with you, Mr. Black, Mr. Lupin, and Mr. Pettigrew might do things that make them uncomfortable and they might be a bit afraid to tell you if they uncomfortable."
"That's not true," James snarled, "You don't know anything about us. My friends make fun of me all the time."
"I am sure your friends joke with you, Mr. Potter, but how often do they tell you, without levity, that they disagree with you."
James frowned, "My friends don't disagree with me, that's why we are friends." And as the words left his mouth, he realized what Professor Rell was trying to explain to him.
"I cannot speak for Mr. Black, but I know some of the choices you've made have made my nephew Remus uncomfortable. Evident by the fact that he did not attack Mr. Snape on your behalf."
James felt heat rush to his cheeks as he thought of how Moony had been. You're distancing himself from them for the last two weeks. And how, instead of trying to breach that gap, James had picked at him a bit, waiting for Moony to apologize for not standing up to his uncle.
"Have a good weekend, Mr. Potter, I look forward to your presentation at the start of class next week."
James nodded, lost in thought, leaving at the dismissal.
"Bye James!" Teddy called.
"Bye Teddy," he said on autopilot.
He kept turning over what the professor said, that his friends didn't think about being expelled the same way he did. James didn't want to be expelled, he really didn't, but being sent home wasn't the same as Sirius having to go home. And it was one of Remus's worst nightmares, heck, it was one of his family's worst nightmares. And as loathe as he was to admit it, they did take some pranks too far. He took pranks too far.
James felt sick to his stomach, he suddenly felt like the worst friend on the planet.
Finding Rell alone was a near impossibility, and this week he had been especially distracted.
Of course, Poppy had been keeping Narcissa pretty busy as it was. Healing magic wasn't so much hard, as it was time-consuming. Like her father had warned, the senior Healer had her brewing rudimentary balms and potions. Even still, she felt accomplished when she realized how many of those simple stores the school went through in two weeks.
But tonight, Narcissa was determined to find Rell, even if Teddy was with him, she wanted to make it clear that she was interested. And her resolve only increased at every flirtatious glance he gave her.
She had let Lucius walk away, she wouldn't let another man do so. Not one who made her blood flame and her heart soar.
And happily, she managed to find him alone in his office on a Tuesday afternoon.
"Where's the handsome one," she asked.
He looked up with a smirk twitching the corners of his lips, "Mr. Rainbow is with Hagrid and his menagerie of fantastical creatures." He shook his head, "I feel like I should start paying Hagrid soon."
Silently, Narcissa locked the door as she came further into his classroom. There were thankfully no spying portraits in the room. "You better not, I think you would insult him. I've never seen him so happy, well aside from that time I was a first year and Dumbledore acquired three new thestral fillies."
Rell sighed, "I suppose you're right. Though forgive me for saying so, but I'm surprised you noticed that."
She shrugged, "I notice most things, whether I care or not is another matter."
"Naturally," he said with a smile, as he shuffled a pile of paper into his case.
She was in front of his desk now, her heart racing. She had been engaged to Lucius before graduating, she had never attempted to pursue a man, until now.
"Is there something you wanted, Ms. Black?" he asked, coming around the desk to stand beside her.
You. I want you, she wanted to say but the words caught on her tongue.
At almost six feet tall, he was more than a foot taller than she. And so it was he who got to make the first move, bending down as he asked, "Ms. Black, are you alright?"
Boldy, wordlessly, she placed a hand at the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss.
His lips were soft, gentle, but far from uncertain as they tasted her. She arched into him and his arms came around to hold her.
She came alive in his arms, no thought of what she should be doing, who she should be; she was where she should be and she was herself, nothing else mattered.
She ran a hand over his dark hair, pulling the green ribbon from it, the wild mass sprang around his face. Wild, thick, and soft, she combed her fingers through it, eliciting a groan of pleasure from him.
Narcissa decided right then and there to take her mother's advice and the accusation she had thrown at her. If she wanted a man she needed to go all the way, to give him everything, in a way she hadn't done with Lucius.
But despite Rell's obvious enjoyment of the kiss, he wasn't taking liberties. He kept one hand on her hip, and one on her back.
Quite the gentleman.
So she rocked her pelvis against the front of him, and even through his robes and her layered skirts, she felt him.
But instead of heating things up to the next level, Rell gasped, pulling back from her, breaking the kiss.
His eyes were bright, his cheeks flushed as smiled at her, "Narcis-"
She slid her palm over him.
He caught her wrist, his smile vanishing as if it had never been, "Ms. Black, I'm afraid I must say good night."
Worry and shame filled her, "Rell-"
He shook his head, taking a step back from her, and turned his back on her.
She lurched forward and caught his sleeve, "Rell, please, I'm- I like you."
He half turned to her, a single dark brow raised.
Damn her, but was he handsome, even more so with his dark hair framing his fine features. He was very male but there was also a beauty to his face. A beauty that entranced, that betokened her like a mystery waiting to be learnt.
"And you thought what?" he asked finally. "That we would fuck in my classroom?"
She flinched at the harsh wording. And felt her temper ice her skin, so he was going to shame her for having needs. He was going to claim the moral high ground and belittle her, because Merlin forbid a witch make the first move.
She released him, straightening her spine and before she could retort with something lashing, he answered his own question.
"I am not a piece of meat. I am not a one night's distraction to be tossed aside the next. I like you too, Ms. Black, but I would want you for more than that." And with that he left, the locking charm she placed on the door not slowing him for an instant.
She sank into one of the desk seats, feeling like a fool. She had judged him wrong, assumed he would have been like any other man. Had she tried that on Lucius, he would have been over the moon. He would have taken her over the desk, and whatever her sister's had done would have meant little to him.
But Rell? Rell was more than raised manners and imagined honour, he was honourable. And from what she could infer from his words, she wasn't the first woman to try to throw themselves at him.
Narcissa buried her face in her hands, wishing more than anything else that Andromeda was there, that she could run to her older sister and have her explain what was the right thing to do. Andromeda had always known right from wrong.