Of Love And War

Book One: Of Love And War

By Arabella Figgy

Chapter Three – Advanced Defense Against The Dark Arts

By the time the Fifth Year Gryffindors had filed into her classroom, Arabella was quite certain she had developed at least 2 peptic ulcers, if not one more for good measure. She wasn’t the slightest bit surprised to see Harry and his friends slink to the back of the class, compounding her suspicions that Sirius had indeed been on the Hogwarts express that day. She recognized Frank Longbottom’s son Neville, and felt the oh-so-familiar pang of remorse at the loss of dear friends. It was looking like no matter where she turned she was in for reminders of painful memories.

But often that came with the job description of life. Trying to rid her thoughts of the painful past, she stood up behind her desk to her considerable height of 5’ 10’’ and surveyed the class. When she herself had been in school, being the tall, lanky tomboy had always been a point of self-consciousness, but while teaching it was certainly coming in handy.

The students sat politely waiting for their new teacher to start the lesson while the new teacher herself was trying to figure out what to say. It wasn’t bad enough that Sirius’s godson was in the room, this was a reminder of the start of everything. It had been fifth year when Lily, James, Sirius and the rest of them had figured out what was going on; what the wizardry world was trying so desperately to cover up. The disappearances, the deaths, everything that heralded the rise to power of Voldemort had begun in her fifth year. And now these young men and women looking at her with such inquisitive eyes were about to witness the same thing, or possibly worse. How in the world was she supposed to prepare them for that?

In theory, her very experience should be enough to help her mold these young minds into the one’s which would ultimately defeat the Dark Lord, but to say that comforted her in the slightest would be a gross falsehood. Expressing herself was not her strong point, as usually doing so would require language not appropriate for a teacher to use in front of 15 and 16 year olds. She was at a loss, so she fell back onto one time-tested Auror tricks.

Stalling for time.

“Good afternoon. As you may remember, I am Professor Arabella Figg and I will be your Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Before we get started, I’d like to take role.”

***

Harry’s mind wandered aimlessly as Professor Figg went through the role sheet, using the pause to take in the new addition to the Hogwarts faculty. She was tall, not quite as tall as Snape but easily the tallest woman out of all the teachers. She had dark brown eyes and almost gold hair, not blonde, but not brown either. She was pretty, but not the same pretty as his mom. When he looked at the pictures of his mother, he supposed all children thought their mother’s were beautiful, but he knew that she actually had been. Professor Figg was just pretty.

What was her connection with Sirius? He sent Pig off that morning with a letter to him, asking him to explain, but something intangible told him he wouldn’t get a straight answer out of his godfather. There was something defiantly going on there, but Harry was at a loss as to what.

At first, Ron supposed that Figg had led the hunt for Sirius when he escaped, but Hermione shot down that theory when she pointed out that if that was the case then she would have been all over them like a Niffler on a diamond-studded watch. Hermione thought there was every possibility that they had dated after Hogwarts, and may have had a long, drawn-out history with him, and Sirius wanted to avoid her, but that was Harry’s cue to point out that she recognized him in his Animagus form, and that hardly insinuated a shallow bond created by some stupid romance. They had all been under the assumption that only Remus, Wormtail, Dumbledore and themselves had been privy to the knowledge that Sirius was an Animagus, so how did an Auror know about it? Did they all know? It seemed that if the ministry was aware of that fact, they would have published it in the Daily Prophet or something, but so far not a word. So did that meant that she hadn’t told the Ministry that vital fact about Britain’s Most Wanted Criminal? The whole thing just didn’t add up.

Ron still looked upon Professor Figg with the utmost suspicion, and most likely would continue to do so until Sirius himself told him otherwise. Hermione couldn’t exactly put her finger on what was bothering her about the whole mess either, but she knew that there was more than met the eye in this situation. Harry privately agreed.

Prying himself out of his thoughts, he turned his attention once again to the woman at the front of the room that had just called ‘Longbottom?’

Neville squeaked, “Present.”

“Patil?”

“Here!”

“Potter?”

Harry looked at her, and was surprised to see the same look in her eyes that Professor Lupin had two years ago. That strange sorrow mixed with something else he couldn’t explain. Who was Arabella Figg?

“Here.”

***

Arabella couldn’t help but remember what the smallish boy with the telltale scar and messy hair like his father’s looked like when he was a baby. She had been at the birth; she had stood with Sirius at the Christening. She could remember looking into his wooden crib and laughing as he would tug at James’s glasses. Then she remembered that the eyes, which looked so much like his mother’s, had witnessed the return of Voldemort to his body. Suppressing a shudder, she moved on.

“Thomas?”

“Here.”

“Weasely?”

Ron looked up at her and she couldn’t help but smile. He looked so much like Arthur did when he was younger. Granted, he and Molly were much older, but Arthur’s kindness in the Ministry was renowned, and she had fond memories of the times she and Sirius had been invited to dinner at the Burrow.

“Here.”

Stalling tactics over, Arabella took a deep breath and prayed that she wouldn’t make an ass of herself.

“Well, I suppose you would like to know what I’m doing here, hm?” Twenty or so eager faces looked back at her. “I am a retired Auror from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I’m an alumnus of Hogwarts, ‘78 Gryffindor, and played Beater on the house team. Dumbledore asked me to come here to teach my former favorite subject, so here I am. Any questions?”

The class looked to a person like they were bursting with questions, but none were willing to ask.

None, that is, except Hermione.

“Professor Figg?” Hermione’s voices piped up from the back as the class breathed a collective sigh of relief. Arabella surveyed the small girl sitting by Ron.

“Yes, Hermione?” Harry somehow wasn’t surprised that Professor Figg didn’t have to check the class list for her name.

“I was curious, why did you leave the Ministry?” Arabella couldn’t help but chuckle. That was the exact question she had been expecting everyone wanted to know but that no one would ask.

“Well, Miss Granger, that is an excellent question. I suppose if you do the math you would figure out that I was a ‘rookie’ per se during the Darkest years. On a number of occasions I would be included in task forces that were in charge of ferreting out pockets of Death Eaters and whatnot.”

“Did you ever see You-Know-Who?” Dean Thomas blurted out, seeming to echo the question on everyone’s mind.

“Yes.” Professor Figg’s voice got very quiet. “I had the honor of ‘meeting’ Voldemort on several occasions. That, in conjunction with a number of other events led to my decision to retire. I haven’t worked in the field for nearly ten years. My service in the Ministry has been contained to largely forensic work in the office.” Hermione looked over at Harry, who seemed to be thinking the same thing he was. What if Sirius had something to do with her retirement?

“Professor Figg?” Neville looked up rather timidly, which was saying something for him, as he always looked rather timid. “What will we be learning this year?”

Arabella smiled. There was another one who looked so much like his parents. While Frank Longbottom had never been a catch for those with shallow minds, you couldn’t ask for a dearer man. It was no surprise that the attack on he and his wife shocked and angered like it did.

“Well, in addition for preparing you for your O.W.L.s later this term, I also intend to cumulate on what you have already learned from Professors Lupin and, well, sort of Moody.” Some of the class snickered. “Curses, counter-curses, Dark creatures, Really Dark creatures, along with advanced defenses against all of the above. What to do if you’re caught in a dark alleyway with a Death Eater, things like that…” She caught herself rambling and noticed that the class looked torn between terror and amusement. “Well, if I haven’t scared any of you off, let’s begin. Everyone, grab your wands. I want to start off with some basic Dark creature defenses…”

They were put through the paces with Boggarts, Grindylows and Hinkypucks once again, and then went into tactics against Leithfolds, Manticores and Sphinxes. Arabella was more than mildly impressed that Harry was capable of conjuring a Patronus, and had been for several years. When she found out that he was capable of fighting off the Imperius Curse, she was stunned. No one, not even James had been capable of fighting off one of the Unforgivables before they were seventeen. Of course, if one looked at it that way, he fought off Avada Kevarda before he was even one.

The class left buzzing about the lesson, and Arabella supposed that she couldn’t have done that badly considering the excitement on her students’ faces. The class was almost empty when Hermione Granger told Harry and Ron to wait for her outside.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” Arabella said, curious as to what she wanted. Already she had seen Hermione’s formidable mental prowess and hoped she hadn’t screwed up something in the lesson.

“Professor Figg,” Hermione began, rather hesitantly for one usually so forward. “I know that you haven’t asked, and this might seem a little foolhardy, seeing how you were an Auror once, but you were right.”

Arabella was puzzled, but schooled her features so seem merely interested.

“Right about what?” she asked.

“That was Sirius on the train.” She hurried to leave, turning back at the door. “Just thought you might want to know.”

The pounding in her ears was enough to drown out the feeble thank you she sent toward the retreating Hermione. She had thought it was him, had convinced herself it was him, but confronted with the fact the dog on the train was indeed the only man she had ever loved, she didn’t know what to do now. Classes were done for the day, and she certainly couldn’t eat now, but no other options presented themselves. Her mind going from frantic to analytical, she began to walk with a very preoccupied air.

Hermione hadn’t said that Sirius told her to tell Arabella. That was indicative that Hermione simply understood the situation, not that Sirius wanted to see her. While it didn’t surprise her, she was saddened nonetheless. Who did he think she was? Barty Crouch?

But in theory, with Sirius being on the run for the past two years, he would have no idea that she wasn’t a field agent anymore. Of course he wouldn’t have heard anything about it in Azkaban either, so where was she expecting him to find out?

Dumbledore. He probably knew everything about everyone, and while she knew he wasn’t a true Seer, he did have an uncanny knack about knowing people’s problems as well. He knew where Sirius was; she was sure of that, and he knew she wasn’t an active Auror and hadn’t been for many years. He could have told him. Of course, since this was Dumbledore, she thought wryly, the chances of him telling either one of them anything in the form of a straight answer was damned near slim to none.

It was with surprise she found herself at the doors to the Great Hall. She wasn’t quite sure how her feet had managed to get her there, or why. Stepping into the vast hall, she was greeted with the usual chatter, and was quite glad to see how many students looked up and smiled when they saw her. She couldn’t be a total louse at teaching and be getting smiles from the Ravenclaws. They had a discerning eye as far as those in charge of their education went.

Absent, she noticed were Harry, Hermione and Ron Weasely. She had to smile. It was a wonder her ears weren’t burning. She had no doubt what those three were discussing.

***

“You did what?!” Ron and Harry cried at the same time in the corridor outside the DADA classroom.

“You guys don’t honestly think she’s about to turn him in, do you?” Hermione said, simultaneously defensive and certain she was right, which Harry had to inwardly wonder at. “Dumbledore knows what he’s doing!”

“Right, he may think he knows what he’s doing,” Ron said supremely, “But he also ‘knew what he was doing’ when he hired Moody and Lockhart!”

“Harry, you think I’m right, don’t you?” Hermione turned on him, and Harry wished for the first time in quite some time that there was a Blast-Ended Skwert to distract him for a bit.

“Uh… well, both of you have a point. Hermione, I don’t think that Professor Figg is out to get Sirius…”

“See!” She said pointedly to Ron.

“But!” Harry said, turning to Ron who looked almost hurt that he would side with Hermione over him. “I still don’t think it was the brightest thing you’ve ever done, Hermione. We don’t know her exact intentions.”

“Told you!” Ron said back to Hermione, and this looked like it had the makings of a long, pointless argument before Neville rounded the corner and approached them, a strange smile on his face.

“Hey, Harry, Ron, Hermione,” Neville said, seeming a great deal more chipper than he had been in class. “Is Professor Figg in there?”

“I think she’s in the Great Hall, Neville,” said Ron. “You know, dinner and all that? She left here a few minutes ago. Something wrong?”

“No, no,” Neville said still with a bit of a grin on his face. “Just wanted to talk to her. Bye!”

They watched him leave, and then Harry and Ron burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Hermione said, irritation lacing her voice. Nothing aggravated her more than not getting a joke, as usually that meant it was on her.

“Neville fancies her!” Ron said between his gales of laughter.

“Did you see that sotted look on his face? It’s obvious!” Harry said, supporting himself on Ron’s doubled over back.

“Oh, stop it. How do you know that he simply didn’t want to ask about his parents or something? She had to know them.” Ron kept laughing while Harry stood up straight.

“How did you know about that?”

Hermione looked taken aback, as if she was being accused of doing something wrong. “I… I read about them in Rise and Fall of the Dark Lord. It’s awful, really what happened to them. I never brought it up because Neville didn’t. How’d you know?”

He noted that Hermione didn’t think he had read about it in a book.

“Dumbledore told me last year. He asked me to not tell anybody about it since Neville obviously wanted to keep it quiet.”

Ron looked irritated. “What happened? Don’t tell me you aren’t going to tell me now that you two both know!”

Hermione bent down and pulled a copy of Rise And Fall of the Dark Lord out of her over-stuffed bag. “Here, read this, and then we won’t have to compromise our consciences by telling you!”

With Ron muttering about conspiracies to make him literate and Hermione looking almost criminally smug, the three finally headed down to dinner.

***

“Arabella?”

Jane Sinistra’s voice seemed miles away, and it wasn’t without difficulty that Arabella pulled herself back to the present.

“Hm?” She tried to adopt an unaffected air, but it wasn’t good enough to sell.

“I asked if you wanted to go with me to pick up Mudungus at the station after dinner.” Jane looked concerned, which wasn’t a huge surprise. She knew that she had been acting flighty ever since she stepped on the train, but for God’s sake, what did they expect from her?

“Sure. Haven’t seen the old con in ages,” Arabella said, finding it was still easy to laugh about her old friends who hadn’t been imprisoned or blown up. Mudungus Fletcher had a reputation during his years at Hogwarts as the sneakiest Hufflepuff in school history. He would constantly be planning some way to get a quick sickle or two, and his success rate was actually quite high. But he was quite a spendthrift, so he was more or less always broke. Still, he had a heart of gold, and Arabella was glad he would be coming back as well.

“No big surprise about Trewlney, huh?” Arabella said, sculpting the mashed potatoes on her plate into nondescript patterns.

“None in the slightest,” McGonagall put in, not surprising since she couldn’t stand the former Diviniation professor. “I think the request to purchase all new teacups made of platinum was the last straw for Dumbledore. That and the fact she predicted his imminent death.”

“No joke,” Arabella agreed. They were discussing the recent request of Dumbeldore’s that Sybil go on a yearlong ‘sabbatical’ on the school’s expense. That was the reason Mudungus was on his way to Hogwarts.

“Can you imagine the looks on the kids faces when they find out that Mudungus is a true Seer?”

“Faking their homework will be a thing of the past, that’s for sure. The numerous disadvantages of having a teacher who can read your mind…” Arabella laughed.

Snape once again used his talent for showing up when everyone was having a good time and thus spoiling it. He looked more harsh than usual, which she supposed was attributed to the fact that he was looking McGonagall straight in the eye with an expression that gave Jane and Arabella the creeps. Before he said a word, however Minerva stood up.

“Excuse me, please.” With that and not another look back, she left the hall with Snape, leaving Jane and Arabella looking on.

“Now what in the hell was that all about?”

***

Once Professors Snape and McGonagall were safely ensconced in her classroom, they immediately dropped their stern air and fell against each other.

“Severus, this isn’t wise.” McGonagall whispered, not pulling away.

“I know,” he whispered back, not pulling away either. “But I had to see you before I left.”

“I didn’t mean in there just now, I mean the whole thing!” She pulled him even tighter, as if her body was rebelling against the words. “I’m old enough to be your mother.”

“You’re prettier than her,” Snape deadpanned.

“Thank you, I think.” McGonagall composed herself to pull away enough to look at his face. “Severus, be careful.”

“Well, actually, I was planning on being completely reckless. Much like your fool lot of Gryffindors,” he added, waiting to see her reaction. He wasn’t disappointed.

“My fool what? Serverus Snape, you take that…” he cut her off with a hard kiss, then left the room quickly, not wanting to say goodbye. If you didn’t say goodbye, then that meant you were coming back.

***

Harry and Ron were enjoying several of their favorite pastimes at once, bugging Hermione because they weren’t doing their homework, laughing at Fred and George’s antics and, of course, Wizard Chess. Even Ron was more relaxed than before, mainly because Ginny was taking a nap in the chair next to his. She still looked drawn, however, even in her sleep, and Harry couldn’t help noticing the looks that Ron, Hermione and even Fred and George threw her way along with is own.

“Check and Mate! Got you again, Harry!” Ron said cheerfully. There were few things he enjoyed more than beating the Boy Who Lived at something mundane like chess. Sitting back and propping his feet up, he turned towards Hermione.

“So Herm,” he said with a bit of a mean smirk on his face. “You going to be trying out for Quidditch?”

She looked up from her Rune chart and gave him a loose grin. “No, I don’t have to try out for my position. Spectators are allowed no matter what.”

Harry laughed, knowing as well as Hermione did how much Ron wanted to make house Keeper this year. His brother’s were joint captains this year, and Ron was quite good, but the competition was fierce and McGonagall didn’t play favorites.

“Aren’t you two even going to start on the reading tonight for Professor Figg’s class? I mean, really it’s not half bad,” she added, flipping through the pages. “It’s actually quite interesting.”

“Hermione,” Ron said in an exasperated air, “You think Arithimancy is interesting.” Hermione stuck her tongue out at him.

Just then, Ginny caused a minor disruption by bolting awake, screaming. Hermione rushed along with Ron to her side, and everyone in the Common Room went white.

“Gin!” Ron said, shakily. “What is it?” But Ginny just kept screaming until her eyes focused enough for her to see where she was. Throwing her arms around her brother’s neck, Ron looked like a cornered animal, uncomfortably rubbing her back. Harry got close enough to hear the two words she kept repeating.

“They’re coming, they’re coming, they’re coming…”

***

Once again, Arabella found herself staring at the grounds in the late evening, trying to find solace enough to go to sleep. It wasn’t fair, really. Her mind was actually reasonably calm considering the day’s events. Even with what Hermione had told her about Sirius, she still didn’t know what to do. She supposed that somewhere in the back of her subconscious, the knowledge that Sirius was somewhere near her was what was keeping her awake.

Deciding that some warm tea was just what the mediwizard ordered, she headed down towards the Hufflepuff Common Room, tickling the pear that admitted one to the kitchens.

Hundreds of little feet pattered towards her, and she had to smile. The Hogwarts House Elves never slept.

“What is we getting you, miss?” one squeaked up to her.

“Could I get a pot of tea, if it isn’t too much trouble?” She hated using their eager personalities against them, but even the simple task of boiling water seemed light years beyond her right now.

Not a blink of an eye later she was leaving the kitchen with a full service tray in her hands. Retracing her steps back to her room, she passed the gargoyle that led to Dumbledore’s office. Perhaps she should talk with the wizened headmaster. He had a knack of knowing exactly what to say. He might even be inclined to tell her where Sirius was. Deciding that using the tea as a front, she would pay a midnight social call on Albus.

After giving the password (Fizzing Whizzbie) she rode up the spiraling staircase to the top. After a brisk knock, she entered.

“Professor, I brought by some tea…”

She never heard the porcelain drop and shatter, nor felt the hot tea against her slippered feet. All she saw was the man she had thought of more than anyone else during the past few days. All she saw was the man who she loved. All she noticed was Sirius Black standing across the room.