~Albus~

Nico cursed loudly, and I rolled my eyes and slouched farther down the wall. I was trying as hard as I could to read my charms textbook and tune Colette and Nico out, but it was hard when Nico kept getting frustrated. While part of me wanted to rub it in his face that he apparently sucked at this, I was also trying to prove a point by pretending neither he nor Colette existed. I was hoping Colette might actually rethink this stupid plan. So far, they hadn't seemed to notice at all that I wasn't paying attention to them.

"You have to empty your mind," Colette snapped. "Control your feelings. That includes frustration."

"I understand that!" Nico rolled his eyes. "You've only said it a hundred time today."

"Well, I wouldn't keep repeating it if you actually seemed like you were doing what I said."

"It's a little harder than it sounds, all right?" I glanced up at the edge in his voice, but luckily he didn't seem to be directing any anger at Colette. Instead, he was rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache. "How on earth did Wren do it?"

"Wren was already suppressing a lot of traumatic memories," Colette said.

"Oh." Nico frowned thoughtfully. "That makes more sense."

"I suppose it might help to think about it that way, if you want," Colette said after a moment. "I mean, there have been a few things you've managed to hide from me, even if you didn't mean to."

"Like what?" I couldn't help asking. Nico and Colette both glanced at me in surprise, as if they'd forgotten I was there. I glared at them both out of principle. "I mean, if you're hiding things from Colette, that kind of puts your trustworthiness into question, doesn't it?"

Colette shook her head. "It's childhood memories, Al. I just can't see what they are."

"What if he's just making you think that?"

She gave Nico a skeptical once-over, then rolled her eyes. "Trust me, he's not able to do that yet. I can just tell there are gaps, from the years before he started Hogwarts, I think. I mean, unless you've been obliviated."

Nico's expression had grown dark. "No. I haven't."

"Then it looks like you've got some experience repressing memories."

"And what are those memories?" I asked, determined to be as annoying as I could. I mean, it was a fair question. Nico was the enemy, after all. We couldn't trust him, especially if he was hiding things.

He just glared at me. "None of your business."

I threw my hands up. "I don't know, that just seems suspicious to me, Colette."

She shrugged. "Let him have his secrets, Albus. It doesn't affect you, does it?"

I muttered that it certainly could, depending on what those secrets were, but they weren't paying attention to me anymore.

"Honestly," Colette was saying, "it might be easier to focus on occlumency as a whole, rather than just the baseline of clearing everything. The goal is to cover just some of your thoughts, after all. Leave enough to trick Stillens into thinking you're telling the truth. I think most people start with learning to clear their mind, but that's not what Wren and I did. We can least try it."

"If you think it'll work." Nico shrugged. "Sure. What do I do?"

"You need to compartmentalize everything that you want to hide, all the thoughts and feelings that might tip Stillens off that something is up. Then focus on covering them."

He blinked at her for a moment. "And how am I to cover them, exactly?"

"I think Wren said she imagined there was a curtain, and she just shoved everything beneath it. Lots of willpower, which shouldn't be difficult for a git like you." Nico rewarded that with only a cold look, unfortunately. I'd been hoping he'd get angry so I would have an excuse to duel him without Colette getting upset with me.

Colette continued. "Of course, she has to still have a lot of emotional and mental discipline. You can't cover up anything if you're not in control of your emotions, and your mind itself. Control every stray thought. Every flare of emotion."

"Okay, I get the idea," Nico said, rolling his eyes.

"Frustration is an emotional response," Colette pointed out, in her infuriatingly calm tone that never failed to make me annoyed, when she directed it at me. Nico did shoot a glare at her, but then he closed his eyes and took a breath, composing himself. Honestly, I hadn't realized he was capable of controlling himself at all.

"Okay," he said after a few moments. "Go again."

Colette pointed her wand at him, silently casting the spell. I watched what must have been a silent battle of wills, but appeared to be absolutely nothing happening at all. Nico was just staring at Colette calmly, and she was staring back, slightly more intense. I sighed loudly and turned back to my book, but I may as well have not been in the room for all the notice they took of me.

The Reductor Curse. I must have read this heading a dozen times by now. With this powerful curse, skilled wizards can easily—

"Okay, that was much better," came Colette's voice, interrupting me. I rolled my eyes and gripped my book harder. With this powerful curse, skilled— "Could you tell the difference?"

"Yes," Nico said, sounding impressed in a surprised way, as if he hadn't actually expected anything Colette had said would work.

I scowled, partly at the unintentional slight to my friend, and partly because I'd kind of been hoping he wouldn't be able to get it at all, and then when he had to report to Stillens again he might just get killed for being a traitor. If he was already starting to make progress, though, it seemed I was out of luck there.

"All right, you just need to work on being more specific," Colette was saying. "Once you can be precise, then it's just a lot of practice until it's effortless to use occlumency with me."

"I assume that's the bare minimum to do it with Stillens?" Nico guessed drily.

"I assume," Colette agreed. "Wren never told me how it compared."

"Sparing your feelings?"

"Shut it." Colette narrowed her eyes and waved her wand.

The legilimency seemed to catch Nico off guard, and after a few moments, he cursed and broke eye contact. "I wasn't ready."

"Do you think Stillens is going to give you a heads up?" She rolled her eyes. "I'm trying to help you be prepared. You've got be on guard at all times."

He shot her a glare, but didn't say anything. I was ready to hex him if he did, of course. But no, he just took a breath, shook his head, opened his eyes again. "I know that."

Colette watched him for a moment. "Are you ready?"

"Don't ask. I'd rather be prepared."

For the tenth time, I turned back to my book. With this powerful curse, skilled wizards can easily reduce obstacles to pieces. For obvious reasons great care must be exercised—

I got interrupted again, because despite my best efforts, I couldn't just ignore Colette and Nico. They kept going all afternoon, and I spent the time rereading the same page of my charms book, not comprehending anything at all.

That's how most afternoons went. Poppy was there a lot, of course, but she seemed so interested in the process of learning occlumency that she would shush me when I wanted to talk about anything else, most of the time. Worse, both Colette and Poppy seemed to be becoming more comfortable with the idea that Nico was "wanting to change," or whatever it was. He was making an effort not to be hateful, which was a big deal, apparently, since he'd literally never even shown a desire to do that before. When Poppy asked him if his snakes overhearing about our research last year had really been the reason her parents were killed, he not only confirmed that without hesitation but gave a very convincing performance at a genuine apology. Everything looked like he was actually trying to change. Even though it couldn't be true.

And, of course, Nico was getting really good at occlumency. Which was stupid. Really stupid.

Sometimes, when Colette needed a break, Poppy would fill up the time by peppering Nico with questions. About Stillens, about everything he'd done last year (much of which Colette and I had already guessed), about why he'd even joined Stillens in the first place. He didn't answer some of the more personal questions as specifically as I would have liked, but Colette kept reminding me to not start any fights and to trust her judgment. If he said something truly off, she'd recognize it, too. So far, I guess it didn't really matter that he got moody and closed off when Poppy asked about why he'd been so eager to join Stillens. Who cared if he refused to say what those childhood memories were that he was apparently already suppressing. None of that was important enough to raise red flags, apparently. I was rolling my eyes so much these days that I was starting to worry I might pull a muscle.

She wanted to know how Ciara and Wren were, of course. Ciara was in the dungeons, apparently. Generally, she was just left alone down there by everyone except Wren, and hopefully it would stay that way, as long as Nico could keep from making Stillens angry.

Wren wasn't in the dungeons, which seemed like a good thing, superficially. Nico told us that she'd been locked in her room for over a week at the beginning of the summer, when she'd tried to kill herself. He was pretty sure she wasn't doing as well as she tried to make everyone think. Zaria Hempsey was in charge of her "interrogation," and apparently she was beginning to be scared of breaking.

"Well, probably not beginning."

"What do you mean?" Poppy asked.

"I mean that if she's telling me about it now, she's probably been struggling with it for a long time."

"Oh, Wren..." Poppy pursed her lips, eyes wide. "Poor thing."

I didn't like hearing about her. I already knew it was horrible, and having that confirmed just made me feel endlessly worse for leaving her there in the first place. Being the reason she was there. And she was so strong, and doing so well, and she was probably terrified. I was liable to cry when I thought about it too hard, so I tried to avoid thinking about her at all. Which is horrible, I know. I couldn't handle it otherwise.

"What was she telling you, exactly?" Colette asked.

Nico frowned. "She asked me to obliviate her, last week when I had to go report."

Colette glanced at me, eyes wide. "Wait, really? Why?"

"I mean... what I just said?" He frowned. "She thinks that if she can't remember things, Stillens won't be able to find them."

"Would that work?" Poppy asked.

"I don't know," he said, rolling his eyes. "In theory, I guess. I can't say I've ever tried it."

"Oh, shocking," I snapped, eyes narrowed. "I thought you were good at this spell. But I suppose you didn't get around to practicing that on Astra last year, didn't you?"

"What would that have to do with this? Besides, I was already good before that."

"That's a little arrogant of you, Jasper."

He sighed impatiently. "If I wasn't already good at it, I wouldn't have been able to obliviate just her memory of my voice, would I?"

"Albus, stop being so argumentative," Colette snapped.

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you!"

"Shut up!" she glared at me. "If you want to fight with me, we can do that later, okay?" She glanced back at Nico before I could respond, which was very annoying of her. I settled with glaring at her as she said, "I've actually been looking into that spell recently. For fun. What do you know about restoring memories, after they've been erased?"

Nico raised an eyebrow. "It's bloody hard, for one thing."

"Have you done it before?"

"Of course."

"Only on people who you obliviated first?"

"Well, yes." He tilted his head quizzically. "Why?"

Colette thought for a moment before responding. I wanted to snap at her not to, because telling Nico about our research was a horrible idea. He might take that directly back to Stillens! But I managed to stop myself, because Colette wasn't an idiot. She'd been very good about telling Nico absolutely nothing, not even giving him the impression that we did know anything, let alone telling him what those things may be. Poppy, for all her questions, had been equally cryptic.

"I was just wondering, really," Colette said, finally, "how difficult it would be to restore someone's memories if you weren't the one who obliviated them. I can't seem to find a lot of research on it."

Nico glanced at Poppy and me briefly, then back to Colette. I got the feeling he knew there was more to this than we were letting on. "I assume this is all hypothetical."

"Obviously."

"Okay." He nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I think it would be hard, for sure. Not impossible, I don't think. In this hypothetical situation, have you been given the specific counterspell? Or do you only know someone was obliviated?"

"No counterspell," Colette clarified. "Is it possible that way?"

For several long moments, Nico considered that. I found myself waiting just as eagerly as Colette and Poppy were. I quickly turned my expression to a scowl, but no one was really paying attention to me. After a bit, he looked back up. "I think it would be possible. It would be really difficult, though. Take a lot of skill with the spell."

Colette nodded, and I couldn't tell what she was thinking. She'd admitted herself that the memory charm wasn't her strong suit. "Okay, cool," she said after a moment. "Thanks." She glanced back up. "Are you ready to get back to occlumency?"

And so the days went.

Eviana was very easily won over when I approached her about helping us befriend Isla Foster. Apparently, she and Elmer had already made it their personal mission to "create their own army of first years," as she put it (Elmer translated this into "just make sure they're all doing all right and like us"). Apparently, one girl named Jemima had adopted Eviana as her school mum already, even after Eviana had reminded every single morning that red stockings were against dress code, and she couldn't wear them to class. Elmer and Eviana were hopeful that she would soon be followed by the dozen or so other Gryffindor first years.

Anyway, making friends with Isla already fit that agenda perfectly. I hadn't asked Elmer for help, of course, but I should have expected that Eviana was a packaged deal with all of Lily's friends. It couldn't hurt, at least, to have two people reaching out to her rather than one.

Eviana caught Colette and me before breakfast one morning, about a week after we'd recruited her help. She pulled us over to a corner, glancing around as if worried someone might overhear us. "Okay, I have an update."

"On Isla?" I asked, as if she might have meant anything else.

"Yeah." Eviana glanced around one more time, but no one was paying any attention to us. "She didn't seem wary of Elmer and me at all, which is good, isn't it?"

Colette nodded. "We didn't think she would be."

"Right. I think she's warming up to me a lot. She doesn't really have any friends yet."

"She doesn't?" I frowned. "Why not?"

"I don't know. She seems really shy, but surely there's got to be more to it than that. I know for a fact that Elmer's introduced her to some of the other first years, and they're all really friendly for the most part, but she still never talks to anyone, as far as I can tell."

"Maybe she's just really shy," I suggested.

"Or maybe Stillens warned her not to get too close to anyone," Colette said in a low tone. "After all, that's what tripped Wren up."

Eviana glanced back and forth between us, eyes wide. "So you actually think she's one of those children who's gone missing?"

"Yeah," I said. "I mean, don't tell anyone that..."

"Oh, I won't."

"Has she said anything to you that's a little off? About her family, or her past, or anything at all?" Colette asked.

Eviana tilted her head. "It wouldn't have seemed off if I wasn't watching for it, I don't think, but she lives with her aunt and uncle."

My eyes widened. Colette leaned forward, seeming even more interested. "Why?"

"I think her parents died, but she didn't say how. Some accident. It was a few years ago, I think. I mean, that's all according to her."

"They surely aren't her real relatives, right?"

Colette frowned thoughtfully. "They can't be."

"But..." Eviana frowned. "Why would she think they were?"

"Brainwashed, I'd guess. Maybe obliviated." Colette hesitated, then nodded. "That's good to know. Thanks."

Eviana glanced back at me. "I actually had an idea, about that. Does she not remember being kidnapped, or anything? Or being with Stillens?"

"Probably not?" I shrugged. "We don't really know."

"I don't suppose you happen to know anything about what it was like there for her, do you?"

As a matter of fact, I did. I knew a lot about what it might have been like, really. But people weren't supposed to know Astra and I were at the manor that night. How much could I say?

"Well, the DA rescued some of the children during their raid last June," Colette said carefully. "Your mum told you a little about it, right, Al?"

"Oh, right." I nodded slowly, as if I had to think to remember something she'd told me. "I think she said it was all set up like a classroom, with some dorms. As if they were teaching the kids there."

"Oh, hmm."

"It's in the basement of his manor, but the children probably weren't allowed outside their dorms and classroom, so that's all they would have seen, normally."

"Okay." Eviana frowned. "I'm just thinking that maybe there's something I could mention, just casually, that might jog her memory a little? I'm sure if she could remember what happened, she wouldn't be okay with it. So surely that's not the problem here."

"Yeah, surely not." I glanced at Colette. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

She considered that for a moment. "Don't do anything that would alienate you from her, at least."

"Right, of course."

"Honestly, I think the best thing is to just keep being her friend, let her get comfortable with you, and then see if she'll open up about her life. She was kidnapped less than a year ago, after all. I'd bet there's some inconsistencies in the things she's been told about herself that she simply hasn't noticed yet."

Eviana nodded, staring thoughtfully across the room. Then her expression shifted into a frown. "Hey! Jemima!"

I frowned at the sudden change in tone, and turned around in time to see a first year girl blinking at us from the bottom of the girls' stairs. She started over to us with surprise painted on her face.

"What did I tell you about wearing red stockings to class?" Eviana asked in the sort of firm tone that tended to make first years giggle instead of cry.

Jemima did neither, instead looking down at her legs as if she wasn't aware of what she was wearing. "Oh, Merlin, I forgot!"

"That's like... the fifth time in a row!" Eviana sighed, a hint of a smile on her face. "You know you can't wear that to class, right? The professors will give you detention for breaking dress code."

"But red is so much more fun than gray!"

I chuckled. "Maybe if I tell Kimmel that, she'll change the rules."

Jemima turned to stare at me, now. "Oh, wow, you're the headboy," she observed, as if that was not something particularly impressive. Most first years seemed a little intimidated by me, but she just looked me up and down serenely.

"Um, yeah." I smiled. "Albus Potter. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Jemima Puddle." She sighed in a very dramatic way, as if instead of telling me her name she'd just told me that her mother was dying. "It's a horrendous last name, I know."

"One of my best friend's names is Pip Dinggit, so I don't think you've got it that bad," Eviana said soothingly. She stepped forward to put her hand on Jemima's shoulder and steer her back toward the stairs. "How about you change, and we can talk about replacement last names on the way, all right?"

A thought occurred to me as they started to walk away. "Hey, Jemima." I hurried around them to step in front of them. "Have you got a lot of friends, yet?"

Jemima tilted her head curiously. "What do you mean by 'a lot'?"

"Nothing in particular. I was just wondering... there's a girl in your year, Isla Foster? You've probably met her already. But I think she's having a hard time making friends."

Eviana caught my eye, seeming to catch on to what I was saying. "Oh, right! I think she's really shy, honestly."

Jemima was considering that with an air of seriousness, face scrunched up. It was almost comical. "Yeah, I can tell. She's hardly said a word since we got here, and it's been two weeks."

"She might have social anxiety, or something," Eviana said, waving her hand. "That doesn't really matter. Just... do you think you could be her friend? Even if she takes a while to be friendly back? I think it might be hard for her."

For a moment, Jemima glanced back and forth between us. I worried that we'd been a little too intense, or maybe she didn't want to be friends with Isla. But she smiled. "Sure. I can be her friend."

I grinned. "That's great! Thanks, Jemima, really."

She smiled brightly back at me. "Of course! Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get to breakfast..."

She tried to sidestep Eviana, but Eviana just put her hand on her shoulder. "You can't wear red stockings to class, Jemima."

"All right, all right!" Jemima threw her hands up as Eviana steered her towards the stairs. "I really think that's a useless rule..."

As they hurried off, I wandered back to Colette, who still seemed deep in thought. She glanced up at me as I approached her, though. "I think that's all a pretty good start, don't you?"

I nodded. "Hopefully they'll be able to find something out."

"If only we could figure out a way to talk to Ryder."

We discussed our lack of options on our way to breakfast. We hadn't been able to come up with any new ideas yet. When we met up with Poppy, she confirmed that she hadn't thought of anything, either.

The problem was, we didn't want to draw enough attention to ourselves in an effort to talk to him that Stillens would figure out about it. Colette had pointed out that Stillens might have Ryder punished for it, which would be horrible. Even worse, they might just pull him out of school if we seemed too adamant that something was off about him. But he wanted nothing to do with us, and unlike with Isla, there weren't a lot of Slytherins we knew who were in a good spot to befriend him themselves.

Lily had tried, with as much luck as we'd had. Colette claimed she'd expected that, since Lily was a Potter. Unfortunately, Lily was the only Slytherin left who we knew even marginally well.

"We could at least ask some of the Slytherin prefects if he seems to be adjusting all right," Poppy suggested. "Charlotte and Ethan seem like they'd be willing to reach out to him, if he wasn't."

"Yeah, but we can't really explain why we're asking," I said, shaking my head. "Even if we tell them we noticed he was alone a lot, which we haven't noticed, since he's avoided us completely, we can't tell them to be on the lookout for anything weird without explaining more."

"We absolutely can't explain more," Colette said firmly.

"I know," Poppy said, sighing. "But I don't know what else to do. Scorpius and Ciara are gone, and I've hardly ever talked to any of the other prefects outside of meetings."

Colette sighed. "Lily doesn't have any friends who could help?"

"I think all her Slytherin friends would be in the same boat as the prefects," I said, shrugging. "Elmer, Eviana, and Pip are her closest friends, and none of them are in Slytherin."

We settled into a frustrated silence. I kept mentally running through our short list of ideas that wouldn't work. Couldn't ask the prefects, because they'd either ask questions or not know that we were wanting information. Couldn't ask Lily, because Ryder wouldn't talk to her. Couldn't talk to him ourselves, because he was avoiding us.

Poppy was frowning thoughtfully at her toast, but looked up after a moment. "I have an idea, but I don't know if you'll like it..."

Colette raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure it's better than nothing, at least."

"We could ask Nico."

My mouth dropped open. "Are you mad? Absolutely not."

"Wait, just hear me out—"

"No! We're not asking Nico! We're not trusting him with any of this at all. That's out of the question."

"Just let her explain what she's thinking, Albus. Merlin." Colette glanced back to Poppy. "You were saying?"

"I just... I know we wouldn't really have to explain anything to him, because he already knows that we've been researching missing children, and he even knows Stillens has been kidnapping and brainwashing them. It's not like we'd have to give him any additional context, or anything. And I know he's not very friendly, but he also seemed genuinely concerned about all the missing children, so maybe that would help convince him to do it? And not scare Ryder off?"

"He probably knows more about what life's like for them at the manor than we do, too," Colette said, nodding slowly. "That could work, if he would do it..."

I stared at them both for a moment. Was I the only sane person here? What had happened to my two generally rational friends? "We can't ask him! Have you forgotten that we're talking about Nico Jasper? We're not doing that. Absolutely not. It's bad enough that you're helping him learn occlumency, but there's no way we're involving him in this. Unless you'd rather I wasn't part of it."

Colette rolled her eyes. "Are you really going to be this difficult? Kind of immature, honestly."

"He murdered my father! I'm not going to work with him!"

Poppy sighed. "It's all right, Colette. I'm sure we'll think of something else."

She rolled her eyes again, muttering something that sounded a little obscene, and picked up the paper. An uncomfortable silence settled over the table, until Poppy asked if I knew any of the Slytherin prefects better than she did, and we started the same conversation we'd been having for a week over whether it was worth it to ask Brigitte Myers to talk to Ryder, or just not involve Hogwarts' resident dark wizard catcher.

Would Brigitte be willing to help? If we told her we thought it had something to do with Stillens, maybe. If she could get over her apparent dislike of me, that is. There was a better chance that she might actually understand what we were asking her to do than the other prefects would. But judging on the screaming match she'd had with Adalyn Lostry last spring, I wasn't sure we could trust her to be discreet. And being discreet was the whole point.

We weren't any closer to a solution by that afternoon, when I threatened to never speak to either of them again if they so much as mentioned anything to do with Ryder to Nico. Or the next morning, when Eviana let me know that Jemima had come back to report that she'd sat with Isla at dinner and very nearly gotten her to smile, so she thought they were making progress. Or that afternoon, as we walked up to Professor Rinduli's defense against the dark arts class and I prepared myself for another horrible class.

Nico had confirmed what we'd already suspected, that our new professor worked for Stillens. I wasn't sure I would have been able to tell by this point, because it turned out that she was incredibly good at acting genuine. Many of our less informed classmates were beginning to warm up to her, in spite of her borderline-unethical teaching standards. So far she hadn't actually done anything worthy of concern during class, but she kept saying things like she had the first day of class, about how the line between the dark arts and normal magic was blurrier than people thought, and we needed to form our own opinions on it.

Today, Mr. Petrov was sitting at the front of the room, cane leaning against his chair. Off to side, as if he was just observing, but I couldn't remember a time that Madam Pince had ever come and observed any of our classes. Judging by the murmurs around the room, I wasn't the only one who found it strange.

"Kind of weird for them to be acting like friends," Poppy whispered to me. "You'd think Stillens wouldn't want them to do that, in case one of them blew their cover."

"Yeah, really odd," I agreed, frowning.

Rinduli was motioning for the class to begin, so we fell silent then. She smiled warmly out at the class as the last few whispers died down. "Good afternoon, everyone. As I'm sure you can all see, we have a visitor today."

Petrov glanced around the room as all eyes turned on him. He seemed very out of place, honestly. I hadn't heard him say a word since the welcome feast. He tended to just glare at students when they walked into the library, and hover around ominously when anyone even thought about doing something they shouldn't there. Now, he seemed unpleasantly surprised to have everyone looking at him. He scowled back at us, and I just rolled my eyes. Not even subtle.

"Mr. Petrov is very interested in the field of defense against the dark arts," Rinduli was saying. "He has studied it extensively since his time at Beauxbatons, travelling all over the world to learn different techniques and practices. Isn't that right, Alexei?"

Mr. Petrov nodded. "Yes. That's correct."

Seemingly unperturbed by his lack of enthusiasm, Rinduli pressed on. "He offered to sit in on some of our classes and lend his expertise, when he could. Let's all give him a round of applause to show our appreciation, okay?"

A weak spattering of applause followed. I just settled back in my seat with a sigh. If this was going to become normal, I was going to hate this class even more than I already did.

"Anyway, today we're talking about werewolves," our professor said. She picked up a piece of chalk, tapped it with her wand, and it wrote Werewolves on the board by itself. "I'm sure this is a topic you've already covered before, but there will be some questions about it on your N.E.W.T.s, I've been told, so we're going to talk about it again briefly."

Then Rinduli hesitated. Very normal thing to happen, except that in the two and a half weeks I'd been coming to her class, never once had she actually seemed like she wasn't in control of the classroom. Everything seemed confident, if not practiced, even when she was offering me condolences about my dad or addressing concerns about her teaching the dark arts. Right at that moment, though, I thought she looked very uncomfortable.

It was gone in an instant. "Mr. Petrov, you have some experience with werewolves, don't you?"

Mr. Petrov nodded, grabbing his cane and standing up as he did. He glanced around the room, as if sizing us up, then asked, "Does anyone know how to kill a werewolf?"

My hand shot up before I could even think through whether it should. Both Petrov and Rinduli seemed surprised to see my hand, and he pointed at me with his cane. Before common sense could kick, I said, "Why would you kill a werewolf?"

In an instant, Petrov's expression grew hard, which was rather remarkable considering it had already been a bit of a glower. "I can think of many reasons why one would need to kill a werewolf. Mr. Potter, is it? Perhaps you're being attacked by one, hmm? Perhaps one is trying to bite you. Perhaps you'd just like to put it out of its misery."

I opened my mouth, but couldn't manage to get anything to come out. I hadn't expected him to be that blunt about it. Luckily, Poppy made up for my lack of response. "That seems cruel."

Petrov turned his glare on her. "I didn't realize you let your class be so insolent, Absinthe."

Professor Rinduli opened her mouth, then closed it. She seemed concerned, but I couldn't tell what the cause was: Poppy and I being "insolent," Petrov being creepy, or the topic in general, even.

The librarian didn't seem to be waiting for her answer. He slowly walked down the aisle, cane tapping ominously as he went. He stopped next to Poppy, staring down at her disdainfully. "I don't remember giving you permission to speak. Tell me, is it cruel to defend yourself, girl?"

"Killing an innocent person for no reason is cruel," she responded.

With one quick motion, he brought his cane down on top of our desk with a sharp thwack. Poppy and I both jumped, and she grabbed my arm. Petrov just chuckled. "Next time you talk out of turn, I won't be hitting the desk."

I hand tightened into a fist, but Poppy's grip on my arm grew tighter as if she could tell I was about to do something stupid. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to antagonize the librarian, since he had no problem threatening my girlfriend in front of the whole class. Who knew what he'd do in the privacy of a detention? Poppy was watching me worriedly as Petrov walked back up to the front of the room, and after a moment I managed to smile reassuringly at her.

"Now, would anyone like to answer my question?" Petrov asked. "How would you kill a werewolf?"

There was absolute silence. There were likely a lot of people in our class who agreed with him, that werewolves were dangerous monsters. It was so unlike anything we'd ever been taught to actively try to kill them, though, that even those people seemed at a loss. I glared at the far wall, willing the bell to ring even though class had only started five minutes ago.

"Call on someone," Petrov said, waving his hand in Rinduli's direction.

She started, as if she hadn't been expecting him to address her, then glanced around the room. "Miss Weasley?"

Rose sighed heavily. It might have been the first time I'd ever seen her not eager to answer a question in class. "Um... in wolf form, you mean? I guess there wouldn't really be a reason to kill one in human form..."

"Incorrect," Petrov snapped. "Werewolves in dangerous in any form. But you may answer for whichever form you choose."

"Right." Rose's voice was a bit of a squeak now. "Um... I mean... the killing curse? Except that's unforgivable..."

Petrov was nodding, though. "That is the easiest way, yes. And the use of the unforgivable curses is only illegal when they are used on other humans. Werewolves are subhuman, so the unforgivable nature does not apply. It is the most humane way to put them down, in any form."

I wanted to raise my hand and say something about how horrible that was, but I'd already made Petrov mad once. Luckily, Colette caught my eye from across the aisle and seem to understand what I was thinking. She raised her own hand. "Are you saying that werewolves are subhuman during full moons, when they're transformed? Because even that's debatable. Or are you actually claiming that anyone who has lycanthropy is no longer human?"

"Werewolves are dangerous," Petrov said. "Have any of you ever met one?"

Glances were exchanged around the class. I considered bringing up Teddy's father, but I'd never actually met him, since he'd died years before I was born. Besides, Remus Lupin was a war hero, and Petrov could claim he was an exception.

"No?" Petrov scowled. "Well, I have. Many times. There are packs of them that roam throughout Europe. They are dangerous. Monstrous. They have no empathy, no morality. They roam about, looking for witches and wizards to infect. They hate us. Lycanthropy is less prevalent in Britain, since the war, so you've all grown soft. You've never had to face these problems. Do you know why I walk with this cane?"

There was no response, but we were all staring at him, some people hanging on his words, some people (like me) barely containing outrage. Petrov didn't seem to care. He reached down to roll up his pant leg and show off a horrendous scar. "I was attacked by a werewolf in Latvia, while it was in human form. I didn't turn, but I nearly died." He glanced up at me, just as I was about to ask what he'd done to provoke the attack. "And before you ask, I was eleven. I was walking back to my home from a friend's. I would have been killed if my father hadn't heard the noise and come to kill the thing." He rolled his pant leg back down, glaring around the class. "Would anyone else like to tell me how werewolves aren't really dangerous, then?"

No one did. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't tell if he'd made up that story or not. And if he hadn't, wasn't it a little cruel of me to write it off, even if he did work for Stillens?

The rest of class was a lesson on restraint, for me, as I nearly boiled over with how furious I was getting. No one seemed to know how to respond to Petrov's blatant claims that werewolves didn't deserve to live. He detailed every way you could defend yourself from one (or put one out of its misery). Only a few times did people manage to interrupt with protestations that the wolfsbane potion existed and was becoming more accessible, or that the problems between werewolves and wizarding society as a whole were caused by centuries of prejudice, not inherent moral issues within the werewolves themselves. Petrov shot those down easily with the claim that we didn't understand the situation of werewolves in the world at large, and our relative ease about werewolves was due to the fact that most of Britain's lycanthropes had been locked up or killed after they sided with Voldemort twenty-five years ago. We weren't afraid because we'd never had a reason to be. Wasn't it better to want that for the rest of the world, too?

When class was over, I shot very pointed glares at Rinduli and Petrov before storming out of the room. I was still fuming by the time Nico showed up to the room of requirement fifteen minutes later. Eventually, Colette told me to shut up or leave, because she couldn't concentrate with my pacing around and ranting.

I was beginning to be angry all the time, I was realizing. Every turn was a dead end. Everything was frustrating, or infuriating. James, Rinduli, Petrov, the missing children, the war. I couldn't do anything about any of it. It was all so wrong.

When had I started being angry? I knew, but pretended I didn't. Because it all came back to last June, and I didn't want to think about that. I didn't want to admit that, deep down, at the core, the person I was the most angry with was still myself. 

~~~~

Shout out to bettysgxrden- who created the very last reader-made first year, Jemima Puddle. Jemima didn't quite make the sorting (mainly because Albus was too busy being distracted by Ryder Portland to notice the next kid being sorted) but she did get to show up in today's chapter, with hopefully more on the way! 

Question of the Day: What's your favorite piece of niche Harry Potter lore?

Answer: If you can't tell, I'm a sucker for the mechanics of magic. I could spend hours pouring through the wikis for each spell and curse, especially the more complicated one like the fidelius charm or the imperius curse.

Vote and comment!

~Elli

Word count: 6764