Defence Against the Dark Creature

Chapter Seven

Charlotte had been subdued for a while. She didn't make as many jokes as usual, she was very nervous, and she stared anxiously at every owl that brought a letter. Remus hadn't dared to ask, and no-one else seemed to notice the state she was in. Or did they? By some looks, he could have sworn they did notice, but just didn't talk about it.

He had already had his fair share of surprises during his time at the school, so while apprehensive, he was still eager to find out what was bothering her. But he kept quiet, in case it was a personal matter that he had no intention of prying into. And, naturally, he wasn't too keen on another disruption of the now peaceful life at school.

He had finally settled into something of a routine. Knowing his schedule and the students' names by heart was always an important step in that direction. He had classes every day except Tuesday, which was the day he used for studying, or rather trying to study, in the library. Often enough, he was drawn outside, as it was still relatively warm for October. And once he had practically been forced to participate in a Flying lesson, which seemed to have motivated the children a great deal more than Teri's snapped commands.

He hadn't been able to get to the weekly meetings of the Order at Hogwarts at all. Not that he was skipping them: there simply hadn't been time. The weekends had been full, although he had no idea where the time had gone so quickly. There was always homework to help with, a story to tell, some new, original game to participate in... and in between, he tried to mark homework, which he usually didn't manage until the late evening. He regretted not being able to go to Hogwarts on Sundays, but Dumbledore had more or less ordered him to stay away until he had settled in, and Remus was glad of it.

He profoundly enjoyed teaching these children. They were, for the most part, so eager to learn and so interested in everything, it still took him by surprise. He especially liked Monday and Thursday afternoons, when he was one of the teachers to supervise the homework and study hours. It was nice to see how social the children were, helping each other out and exchanging notes. Often enough, they got into lively discussions about some subject or another; their interests sometimes seemed to have no borders at all.

One Thursday at the end of October saw slightly less enthusiastic students who would have preferred walking in the light autumn breeze outside, but who were instead facing the seemingly impossible task of learning nineteen incantations and their characteristics by heart. Remus had been proceeding rather quickly, as they had so much to catch up on. He was focussing on Defensive Charms at first; so the incantations they learned in his class added to the immense number of spells they were presently repeating with Teri.

The children had been poring over their notes for a while when Leonid Dimitroff broke the silence with a loud, annoyed sound, slamming his fist on the table at the same time.

"This is so frustrating!" he grumbled. "I have absolute no talent for foreign language, I must speak English already, and now all this stupid Latin rubbish!"

Many children giggled, and Leonid seemed to find it very amusing himself. Teri, however, raised a meaningful eyebrow.

"Mr Dimitroff, this 'stupid Latin rubbish', as you call it, is the basis for almost all incantations, and might I mention, for a great part of Russian vocabulary as well. I'm afraid you will have to learn them, one way or another."

Leonid sighed heavily. Felix Rosenstrauch, his best friend, poked him. "He knows that, Professor, he was just letting out his frustration. I find it difficult, too."

Murmured agreements and mutilated incantations followed to demonstrate their ignorance. Teri heaved a sigh. On the other side of the room, Remus saw Karolka Wyszinski leaning over to see something María Aciano was showing to those around her. Suddenly, she laughed out loud.

"Oh, María, you have to read this to everyone!" she encouraged the younger girl, who was blushing as usual. More encouragement followed, and María finally consented.

"It is not very good," she said in a voice that was as tiny as her. "But I always do this when I can't remember something." She cleared her throat.

"When bad men come to harm us

Our teachers are not shy

They use Expelliarmus

And off the wands will fly!"

"HA!" Leonid Dimitroff shouted, as everyone was bursting into laughter. "That's great! I will do that too! Say it again!"

María recited it again, her voice becoming more confident by the minute, and Leonid copied the poem down while muttering it to himself. Felix Rosenstrauch watched him for a short while, and slowly, a grin spread across his face. Remus knew that grin. It usually meant that it was time for -

"A GAME!" As Felix jumped up from his seat, Teri sank lower into hers, shaking her head quietly. Remus knew that she wasn't fond of games at all, and he was quite sure that she had had many discussions with Charlotte about tem. He was equally sure how those discussions always turned out.

"Everyone makes a poem with an incantation," Felix was saying. "I'll start. If a door is closed, much to your horror, better use Alohomora!"

"Oh come on, you prepared that in advance!" several children complained, clearly envious.

Felix swore that he hadn't. "Just now, when Leonid was writing. Next!"

Everyone sank back into their chairs in contemplation. Finally, Olivier Mbomo stood up and declared in a deep, booming voice, with more confidence than Remus had ever seen him display:

"The first part is Wingardium

You swish and flick quite hard-ium.

Then comes Leviosa

I'll never forget that, no sir!"

They hooted with laughter; Tinh Shanyong had actually fallen from his chair, and a high-pitched giggle was coming from under his table.

"Olivier, that was priceless!" exclaimed Jun Li, who seemed to favour a twisted sort of humour. Olivier sat down contentedly, but not before shooting Nora a glance. She was giving him a rare smile, and Remus could almost see the boy's chest swell with pride.

"I've got one!" said Rachel Fitzgerald, standing up. Remus realised once more that she was trying very much to be like Karolka Wyszinski, whom all the girls seemed to admire. She was calm, gentle, and confident; Rachel was more the fidgety type of girl, but she was clearly trying to become more like her friend "Kasia".

"Dark the room was

So I said Lumos.

Then I said Nox -"

"And everything went dark, including my socks!" interrupted Felix, sending everyone into fits of laughter again. Even Rachel, who looked unhappy at having been interrupted, was chuckling at the same time.

The poems went on, and Remus noticed that even Teri seemed to find enjoyment in the creativity of the students. He did not doubt for a moment that this would help them learn the incantations.

After a while of rhyming, the energy seemed to go out. There were still quite a few incantations left, many of the children (especially the boys) having flat-out refused to do so much as come up with a single rhyme. Naturally, Remus and Teri didn't have to wait long for the inevitable consequence.

"Professors, come on! Help us out!" called an ever-enthusiastic Felix Rosenstrauch. Teri firmly shook her head. The gazes rested on Remus. Fortunately, there had been time for him to write as well as laugh.

He straightened slightly in his seat and cleared his throat.

"Now, witch and wizard need protection,

Since hexes - well, you know how THEY go.

A useful Charm for Hex-Deflection?

It is, of course, the old -"

"Protego!" chimed in the children, and even Teri laughed.

It was right at that moment that Charlotte entered, a letter in her hand and a closed expression on her face. The children fell abruptly silent. She said nothing for a second, but attempted a weak smile. Teri cleared her throat. "It's arrived, then?"

She nodded, and Remus could almost sense a shiver running through the room. So he had been right: they knew exactly what this was about. It seemed to be some regular event that they had all been hoping wouldn't take place.

"Tomorrow?" Teri continued, and Charlotte nodded again. She sat down in a sofa next to the fire and glanced around the room.

"Yes, tomorrow at nine. It's the annual inspection from the Ministry," she explained, looking at Remus. "They check whether the school complies with the safety procedures, and... er... other things." She looked very unhappy. "And there's something new... They're bringing people from the Daily Prophet this time."

"What! The press!" Jun Li exclaimed, looking horrified.

"Yes. The press." Charlotte shook her head. " I really don't want to worry you all even more, but I've had some of my worst experiences with the press. The Daily Prophet has got some good reporters, but most of them are just..."

"Biased, old-fashioned bastards?" Jorge Guerrera snarled and got one of his usual "Jorge!"s in response, which in turn he replied to with a flow of very aggressive-sounding Spanish.

"Have you had experiences with the press, Professor?" Rachel Fitzgerald asked Remus, cutting Jorge short. It was obvious she wasn't too fond of the boy with the grumpy face.

"Yes, I have," Remus responded with a sigh. "You remember how I told you that I was a professor at Hogwarts two years ago?"

"Of course!" exclaimed Rachel at the same time as Felix Rosenstrauch and Leonid Dimitroff, who grinned at each other. "But you haven't told us why you stopped teaching there," Felix added.

"There was an unfortunate... incident ... and one of my colleagues decided that I was too great a danger to the school, so he thought it was appropriate to reveal to everyone what I was."

"Schwein!" shouted Felix, and his friend Leonid snorted - his lack of talent for foreign languages hadn't prevented him from learning a few select German words. Everyone else was looking glum, especially Charlotte, who still didn't seem to be over her disappointment in learning about Severus Snape's actual character.

"After this spectacular outing," Remus continued, unable to keep the ironic tone out of his voice, "I made the front page. And got quite a few letters from indignant readers." He shuddered involuntarily, remembering the phrasings of some of those letters. Although it wasn't nearly as painful thinking about it now as it had been, when events had been fresh and guilt for allowing them in the first place had gnawed at him.

"I remember that," said Teri Longbottom, and all eyes were upon her: She hardly ever talked about things outside of the school routine; and she was only there two days a week, so the children were naturally interested in anything out of the ordinary that she might have to say.

Teri looked at Remus. "Wasn't there a letter from one of the students you taught that defended you?"

Remus blinked. Of course, he'd forgotten all about that. As he didn't see Teri very often either, he hadn't found a chance to ask yet; and he wasn't one to inquire into personal matters anyway. But it seemed quite clear that Teri knew exactly which student had written this letter.

"Yes. A student from third year, a very quiet boy, wrote to the Daily Prophet..." He trailed off, unsure of what to say. How much of the letter did he want to relate? Did he want to go ahead and proclaim that some children in this country thought him the best teacher they had ever had? The thought of it still made him blush.

But they were waiting for him to continue; and he realised that they could always do with a positive lookout, however small. "He didn't seem to share the general opinion about werewolves, but judged me from my abilities as a teacher instead."

"And how did people react?" Gabriel Hernández, the more optimistic one of the two boys from Colombia, asked eagerly.

"Oh, they made sure to establish that he was quite out of his mind," Remus remarked wryly, thinking of the multitude of letters that had followed Neville's, brandishing him as a troubled kid who would soon join his parents in St Mungo's. He looked down at his hands to hide the grimace that had stolen across his face; upon looking up again, he saw that Teri was studying him intently, probably with very similar thoughts.

Charlotte sighed. "Well, this is sure to cause an uproar as well - the public hasn't known about the school until now. I guess what I'm saying is..." A shiver ran visibly through her. "Prepare for the worst."

A prophetic piece of advice, as they all realised very soon.

~~~

He had never thought the tension could mount again to the level it had reached on the day of that first full moon. It was perhaps not as bad, yet it was still almost unbearable. Charlotte had requested -and he had agreed- to hold classes as usual, but in his class on the morning of the inspection, not a single student was listening. He, too, was only partly paying attention to what he was saying; his other half was listening to every sound outside the room.

This time, he had a clear idea of what to expect, as he had dealt with people from Werewolf Support Services before, and they were all the same. No sympathetic outsider, no pioneer who fought against the strict, established structures in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures would ever be employed here - such was the hard truth that Remus had come to learn after long years of illusion.

A sudden noise outside made the class jump. The door to the Transfiguration Classroom, which was connected to theirs, had been opened, and there were now voices behind their door. Loud, impatient voices - and lots of them. Remus saw Karolka mouthing 'so many!' to Rachel as they all listened intently. There was a man with a deep, grumbling voice that sounded familiar, who seemed to lead the inspection and from whom Remus could make out the words "get it done with as quickly as possible."

Remus exchanged a quick look with Nora, and was sure they were both thinking the same thing: it was indeed best for all parties involved if this were over soon.

The door burst open, and half a dozen people entered - Charlotte, followed by a delegation of five. The larger the number, the more impressive, Remus thought automatically, and the safer. Not once in his interactions with the Ministry had he ever been alone with one person, as if he were a constant danger to every other living being.

"Well, carry on," said the man in front, his tone mirroring the expression of contempt on his face. Only then did Remus realise that he knew the man - although he couldn't believe that he was still doing this job. How much he hated it and those it forced him to deal with had already been obvious to the young, scared boy having been brought to him over thirty years ago by his parents. They had been told in no uncertain terms by Mr. Foddersworth that were the decision his, he would "relieve the boy and the world of this danger", and that the only life their son could hope for was one in complete isolation.

Carry on, Remus reminded himself. Not letting himself be intimidated by a large number of people staring at him hatefully was something he had taken years to learn.

"Well, as I was saying about the Averting Spell," he took up his own thread, surprised himself that he hadn't lost it, and relieved to hear his own voice sound quite normal. Still only half listening to what he was saying, he dimly registered the delegation taking notes and photos. The photographer and the serious-looking woman next to her had to be from the Daily Prophet, and Remus wondered for a second where Rita Skeeter was - would she have let such an opportunity pass?

He had barely finished his explanation of Avertatur when Foddersworth interrupted him, with complete disregard for any politeness. He hasn't lost the uptight, extremely strict look or the slick hair either, Remus thought.

"That's enough for now." As if he were the director in some play. Foddersworth cleared his throat, looking at Remus over the rim of his tiny glasses. "So, Lupin - teaching your own kind now, are you?"

Oh yes, it was a good thing he had been prepared for the man's brutally direct manner. There was no way to reply, so he just nodded.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts," the man continued, speaking as if he were reading from a list of subjects. "What's the idea behind it, then? Arming them" - a contemptuous wave of his hand in the direction of the children - "against the beast inside? Are you teaching them a few suicidal techniques, maybe?" Foddersworth looked visibly amused.

Remus raised his eyebrows, the only outward reaction he allowed himself, while there were some audible gasps from the class. Charlotte, standing next to Foddersworth, was looking furious, and Remus realised he had to say something before she did.

"Mr Foddersworth," he replied calmly, "I am sure you know perfectly well that Defence Against the Dark Arts involves many other subjects besides werewolves." Foddersworth looked mildly surprised at having been recognised - he did not seem to remember Remus from his days as a child. Charlotte looked relieved.

"Yes, well. Whatever." The inspection supervisor was looking more and more disgusted with being here, and eager to get out of the school. "You will surely understand," he said, and Remus was surprised to note that the man was capable of irony, "that we at the Ministry are a bit worried about a small army of werewolves learning about dark arts techniques."

"He isn't teaching them anything of the sort," Charlotte said hotly, "that's why the subject begins with the word 'defence', you know."

Foddersworth glared at Charlotte with unconcealed dislike and seemed about to retort something even nastier, when the tall man behind them who had so far done nothing but stare at the children with narrowed eyes muttered, "Maybe we should test a few spells on them to see if they react by shooting dark curses at us."

He seemed just as amused as Foddersworth had earlier. Charlotte's hands were now curled into fists at the sides of her body. Remus intervened quickly, careful to keep his tone neutral.

"It is quite as the Headmistress is saying. I will be glad to show you my list for the year, of course, to show you that it is carefully structured to cover only the basic defensive spells and techniques."

Foddersworth stared at him for a moment, then nodded curtly, while the other members of the delegation muttered among themselves. The reporter and her photographer seemed to decide to focus on him now instead of the children, which didn't exactly make Remus feel more at ease.

"Fine, Lupin. Show me that list - I understand you taught human children before, maybe they gave you a bit of a glimpse into normal life and teaching."

It was incomprehensible to Remus how someone could say something like that to anyone, and the word 'human' came like a slap into his face, but he kept up his neutral expression, not even allowing himself to slip when he went to his quarters to get the list he had drawn up before the start of term.

When he came back, the reporter was busy interviewing very reluctant children, the photographer's camera was constantly flashing -Remus was not at all surprised to see that she photographed everyone from a lower angle, which would make them look much larger and more intimidating than they were-, and Charlotte was standing in a corner with the three Ministry officials, arguing with them in low tones. She was probably discussing finances - at any rate, she was still looking very angry.

The journalist was a young, quite friendly-looking woman, if a bit stand-offish. She gave him the impression of a person who took her work very seriously - and if that meant reporting in the most objective manner, Remus had absolutely nothing against it.

"Which of you stay here all year, then?" she was presently asking. Six of ten students raised their hands, and the journalist raised her eyebrows and took notes. "What about your parents?" It wasn't as if she sounded very concerned, Remus caught himself thinking, but he was too pessimistic anyway, and at least her tone didn't sound contemptuous, or - worse - patronising.

Nobody seemed to want to start relating their family history, though, which Remus fully understood. But it made him realise how curious he was for any background information he might learn, so that although he was standing next to Foddersworth, who was skimming through his list, his full attention was focussed on the children and the woman.

"Suffice it to say," Jun Li broke into the silence, "that our dear parents seemed to think it would be easier for everyone involved if they left us to our own devices." Her voice was quiet, but harsh. The other children looked relieved that she had begun to speak, and they threw her quietly thankful looks.

"Some of you weren't brought to the Ministry directly after the bite, then?" The Daily Prophet reporter inquired, and Jorge Guerrera answered with a loud snort.

"Some of us come from countries where the government is in ashes and the people fight on the street. Some of us never even knew our parents." Remus was disconcerted to see a sudden, violent emotion shake Jorge. The boy seemed on the verge of tears. His friend Gabriel laid a hand on his arm and talked quietly to him in Spanish. Even Rachel, who regularly snapped at Jorge, was biting her lower lip and looking over at him.

"All in all, we can be grateful that this school exists." Olivier Mbomo was speaking quietly, but his deep voice usually carried through the whole room, and everyone fell silent. Charlotte, having been in conversation with the other man from the Ministry, was looking at Olivier appraisingly.

"In Morocco," Olivier continued, "I have not met a single man or woman who would treat me..." His voice faltered.

"Like the human being that you are," Charlotte said. Her head was raised, and Remus saw that in spite of the inspectors' presence, she was feeling immensely proud.

The reporter turned to Charlotte, and Remus could see the children relax as the woman's attention was drawn away from them.

"Would you tell me how you founded the school, Miss Merlot?" she asked, looking at Charlotte over her spectacles, her attitude nothing but an extremely strict one, and once again Remus felt an irrational hope that this woman was different and would be able to report neutrally.

"Well, I had just completed my education at Beauxbatons," Charlotte began, "and I had no intention of living in one of the castles my parents had long dreamt up for me." At this point she stopped, and Remus could almost read her thoughts: Great, Charlotte, now you're encouraging the kids to rebel against authorities! She added, a bit hastily, "They were desk jobs, you know, and not at all in the fields that interested me.

"So I left my home town - it was not a very painful goodbye - and went to America, to see a bit of the world, and to find a profession that I truly wanted to spend the rest of my life in. I spent about a year in a Muggle orphanage. Then I met Pablo Gómez, who now teaches Transfiguration.

"He is from Colombia, which is a rather chaotic place at the moment, as I'm sure you know." She gave Jorge and Gabriel a quick glance that looked almost apologetic, but Remus was sure they were not very patriotic.

"As Jorge said, their wizarding government is almost non-existant, the few members that are left are completely corrupt and cruel. There are no helpful institutions like our Werewolf Support Services." A small, sarcastic smile played around Charlotte's lips as she glanced at Remus.

"So werewolves and other Dark Creatures are persecuted and killed?" Foddersworth inquired, with such an indifferent air about him that Remus could have hit him. Charlotte seemed on the verge of doing so as well.

"No, they are left to live on the streets," she retorted, her tone contemptuous as she stared at him. "Pablo Gómez had found two boys," she motioned to Jorge and Gabriel, "as well as a girl from Chile who was not much better off, and he wanted to find a place for them to live and be educated. He saw more in them than just werewolves."

Jorge and Gabriel looked at each other. Remus could tell they were more than grateful for what Gómez had done for them.

"I went back to France and searched for other werewolf children, and was surprised to find three of them - one from Morocco - so quickly: I had never known they were there." Charlotte's lips tightened. Was she actually reproaching herself for not looking for them earlier?

"So, to cut a long story short," she said, "Pablo and I brought our respective protégés to England, where we hoped for an opportunity to form a school for them..." She gave Foddersworth a significant look. "An opportunity which did present itself, after another year of waiting, convincing and begging."

Foddersworth just stared back at her, seemingly unimpressed by her reproachful tone. "Why didn't you try your luck in America or France?"