Two Natures of the Beast

Chapter 2 : In Which Aurora Is Questioned, A Monster Visits Hogwarts, Snape Comes To the Rescue, and Aurora Seeks The Truth “Oh, *obvious*. I’ll grant you it’s *obvious*. Trouble is, just because things are obvious doesn’t mean they’re true.”- Granny Weatherwax, Wyrd Sisters, by Terry Pratchett

Aurora sat at her desk, both anxious and excited. Slowly, the sounds of students moving down the hallway towards her classroom filtered in. Her first class was about to begin, and rather than easing gently in, she was jumping into the deep end straightaway. She looked at her schedule again, just to be sure. No mistake, double DADA, fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins. She had had warnings from other professors about this particular match-up. Apparently, relations between the fifth level of these two houses, which could never be termed friendly under ordinary circumstances, were particularly acrimonious. Snape had gloated when the schedules were handed out. “My sympathies, Ms. Jackson. Not only does that class contain the bumbling wonder that is Neville Longbottom, but if either Potter or Malfoy should lift his wand...” he paused to smirk, “just duck; I’m sure you can handle it. After all, Dumbledore *did* select you for the Dark Arts position.” Bringing herself back to the present, she gathered her courage and tried to banish Snape’s snarky comment from her mind. After all, she was in charge here.

Making more noise than Aurora remembered being possible, the students entered the room and took their seats. Amused, she noted that it was as if an invisible wall had been placed down the middle of the room. Gryffindors on her left. Slytherins on the right. Maybe she should assign seats, she thought wickedly. Once everyone was seated and the din had died down, Aurora stood, taking pains not to allow her nervousness shine through. She reminded herself that they were just fifteen year old boys and girls, and more than likely were no different than she had been at fifteen. This did not seem to help.

"Good morning, class. Today will just be an introduction to the course, and an introduction to me, as well. I realize that you have had several Defense Against the Dark Arts instructors over the past few years, so I'd also like to hear what you have studied so far, and what you are interested in learning this year. I'm planning on, for the most part, focusing on curses and counter-curses, and Professor Dumbledore has given me permission to teach this course as I learned it when I was school. That means you *will* be learning how to perform some curses, which I believe is vital in learning how to defend yourself from them-"

Hermione Granger's hand shot into the air.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Are we going to learn how to perform these curses through actual experience?"

"Well, yes, I don't see how else you'll get to practice-"

Draco Malfoy's hand also erupted into the air.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

"Professor Jackson, will we be able to practice cursing one another?" His eyes skated over to Harry, who in turn looked nervously at Ron Weasley.

Aurora sighed. "Let me clarify- yes, you will be practicing both the curses and the counter-curses on one another. However, I will assign the partners, and it is only to take place in the classroom. If any of the professors hear anything about cursing in the corridors or midnight duels"- here she paused to allow her gaze to rest meaningfully on both Harry and Draco-"fifty points will be taken from your house, and you will serve a detention with Mr. Filch. Is that understood?"

The Gryffindors, looking decidedly relieved, nodded. The Slytherins looked somewhat disappointed, but nodded all the same. Aurora heard Draco mutter, "Well, it's still about time they taught us *something* useful," and smiled to herself. A t least the students seemed excited about her lessons.

"Now," she began, "does anybody have any questions about me? I'm sure you must be curious about my background; just nothing *too* personal, if you don't mind!"

Several hands shot up. She called on Neville Longbottom first.

"Professor Jackson, what part of America are you from? Oh, and where is your school? Did you always know you were, erm, a witch?" He blushed red at his outburst, but looked at her inquisitively.

Aurora laugh ed. "Okay. I'll try to answer all of those! Um, well, I'm from southern California, which is a very nice place to live. The weather is almost always nice, and there are loads of beaches. The US, as you probably know, is a big country, so we have four major public schools for the study of magic- one East, one in the South, one for the mid-West, and one for the West coast. The one that I attended was the western one, and it is called simply the Western American School for Witchcraft and Wizardry- not quite as dramatic as Hogwarts or Beauxbatons, I'm afraid.

"As for knowing I was a witch, yes, I always knew. My father, Septimius Jackson, is a retired Auror, and my mother was a professor of History of Magic at Western. I guess I am a blend of both my parents. My younger sister, Odessa, is a senior, or seventh year, to you, at Western right now.”

Aurora paused to draw breath, as she had said all of that very quickly, and then laughed again, this time at herself. "Whew, that was quite a speech! I hope I answered your questions, Mr. Longbottom. Does anybody else have a question?"

Hermione raised her hand, inciting eye rolling from Harry and Ron. Aurora nodded.

"What made you decide to teach here at Hogwarts rather than one of the schools in the United States?"

Aurora sucked in her breath, and a shadow passed across her face, but she only said, "Professor Dumbledore contacted me. My father had done some work over here before he retired, and he and Professor Dumbledore became, and remain, friends.

"Now, what did you learn last term?" she deftly changed the subject. After a discussion of the classes taught by Professors Quirrell, Lupin (who seemed to be by far the favorite, at least with the Gryffindor half of the class), and Moody, the hour was nearly over, so she announced, "I think that is enough for today. Class is dismissed."

The students murmured excitedly, happy to get out of class a bit early and with no homework .  Only Hermione paused to glance back at Aurora before exiting the room.

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The rest of the day passed uneventfully, but all the same Aurora heaved a sigh of relief as her final class, 3rd year Hufflepuffs, departed. It had been a long day, and she gratefully sank into a comfy chair in the teachers' lounge that evening.

"Long day?" a silky voice questioned.

*Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.* She honestly just wanted to relax.

"Not particularly, Professor Snape." She shut her eyes and sank further into the chair.

"I heard some rumors, Professor Jackson, about your class. Most...” (a sardonic chuckle)  “...Interesting rumors."

Cautiously, Aurora opened one eye. "Really? What did you hear?"

Snape smiled but kept his thin lips shut. He replied, "Young Malfoy was quite excited. He rattled on about how you planned to teach them curses. I do believe he is a bit taken with you."

He looked amused. Aurora opened her other eye and faced him, but made no comment.

Snape continued with a casual flick of his hand, "Anyway, I wanted to congratulate you for being the first Dark Arts instructor to teach what is needed. It is how I might teach the class."

"Oh, well, thank you, I suppose," Aurora answered, still suspicious of any compliment from this man. He only nodded and swept out of the room. He really was an odd duck, she thought.

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Slowly but surely, the days melted into weeks, and before Aurora knew it, it was Halloween. All day long it was nearly impossible to get the students to concentrate, and a buzz of excitement hung in the air. Hagrid's enormous pumpkins decorated the entire castle, and the house ghosts were making a special effort to make their presence felt. The Bloody Baron, in particular, seemed to enjoy gliding down the halls in his silent manner, glaring threateningly at the students passing by. Overall, the demeanor of the castle was festive, with the students looking forward to their common room parties after the delicious Halloween feast, the professors anticipating their own celebration in the lounge. Still, she made a valiant attempt to teach her classes.

"Who would like to demonstrate the Flutterus curse to the class?" she queried.

There was no response as the students whispered amongst themselves.

"Ahem!" She cleared her throat loudly. Nothing. Fine, she thought. Pointing her wand at an empty desk in the center of the room, she whispered, " *Wingardium Leviosa*."

The desk hovered above the ground for a moment. Abruptly, she broke the spell, causing the desk to crash loudly to the floor. At the deafening sound the students finally and suddenly ceased their talking and looked expectantly towards the front of the room, craning their necks to find its source.

"Now," Aurora said pleasantly, "do I have a volunteer to demonstrate the Flutterus curse in front of the class?"

As she had come to expect, both Hermione and Draco raised their hands, glaring at each other. The two were constantly vying for the top spot in her class, Hermione because she was so, well, studious, and Draco because he seemed to have a natural ability for curses and their counters. Aurora called on Draco only because his partner, Vincent Crabbe, didn't seem bothered by being victim to Draco's talent, while Hermione's partner, Neville, looked a bit green in the face. That was not a good thing, as the Flutterus curse caused butterflies in the stomach, and if not properly countered led to vomiting. Neville was almost never able to counter Hermione's curses. Neither could Crabbe with Draco, for that matter, but he didn't embarrass as easily as poor Neville.

Darning a smug glance at Hermione, Draco led Crabbe up to the front of the classroom. Crabbe stood resignedly, facing Draco, who rakishly ran a hand through his shock of fair hair, grinned, and aimed his wand. Aurora had to admire his style. Not only could he curse like an eighteenth century dueller, but he did it with flair.

"*Flutterus stomachi*!" he cried. Crabbe promptly puked all over the floor.

The class erupted into laughter and pinched their noses, as the contents of Crabbe's stomach smelled quite foul. Aurora restrained her own amusement and magically cleaned up the mess.

"Mr. Crabbe, next time make sure you have your wand at the ready," she advised. "Does anyone remember the counter curse? Miss Patil?"

"*Fortificus*," Parvati responded.

"Very good! The Fortification charm will keep your stomach calm. How would you reply to the Flutterus curse? Any ideas? Yes, Miss Granger."

"Personally, I would use the Full Body Bind, to stop your enemy in his tracks," answered Hermione. Neville gave her an odd look, to which Hermione shrugged apologetically. Harry and Ron struggled to hide their smiles.

Bemused, Aurora replied, "That's an excellent suggestion, Miss Granger. Any other ideas?"

No other responses were forthcoming as the students slowly drifted back into their excited whispers. Aurora ended the class, but made sure to assign a difficult homework to make up for the insubstantial class. She was pleased that she had gotten as much activity from them as she had. To be totally truthful, she was looking forward to the night's activities as well.

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Meanwhile, in a dungeon classroom far below, Snape was feeling far less patient with his hyperactive students. Colin Creevey had melted yet another cauldron, for which Snape had mirthlessly reduced Gryffindor’s house total by twenty points, and Ginny Weasley and her partner Dierdre MacAlistor were doing more giggling and whispering than stirring. Snape stalked through his classroom, correcting measurements and pointing out accidents waiting to happen, feeling the hateful glares of his students on his back as soon as he stepped away from their table. The young ones had no appreciation for potion-making. They regarded it as something to slog through, but derived no enjoyment in the knowledge that they had created something with their own two hands, something magical, something with purpose, and power. Snape got immense personal satisfaction from a perfectly brewed potion, and felt great pride in having skill at what he regarded a true art. It was endlessly frustrating that his students thought Potions a waste of time and his ability of little value. He sneered, thinking that they preferred turning a teapot into a turtle over creating something that was actually *useful*. To his mind, there was only one other class that rivaled Potions for sheer practicality, and that was Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Snape couldn’t deny that he had wanted the Dark Arts position. He had reached the limit of what he could accomplish at Potions; there was literally no potion that was beyond his skill. Quite frankly, he was bored. He sought to branch out into the Dark Arts in order to challenge himself and hone his skills in that arena. If he were to be totally honest with himself, he also wanted to finally prove once and for all that he was sincere in his support of Dumbledore. He knew that the community still whispered of his former affiliation with Voldemort, and that he would never have the full trust of the wizarding world at large. To show the children how to fight the Deatheaters and their ilk, however, might turn the tide of public opinion back in his favor. He was tired of moldering in the dungeon. It didn’t look like his wish was any closer to being fulfilled.

He had continued his subtle drilling of young Malfoy about what the Jackson woman was doing in her classes. From what Draco had reported, Snape could find no fault in how the classes were being conducted. It was most irksome. He needed a plan-

“Miss Weasley, what have you done here?” He had stopped mid-pace, his eye caught by the plumes of lavender smoke trailing from the cauldron she and Miss MacAlistor shared.

“I added just a pinch more basilisk scales. The color was a bit off...” She couldn’t quite meet his eyes, which were boring into her. “Was that wrong?”

Snape was truly dumbfounded, but hid it well. He lifted his chin arrogantly, forcing himself to say something. He bit out the words that surprised even him in an unfortunately strained voice. “No, it’s perfect.”

He brooded a moment, stroking his chin. This was a surprising development, indeed. Gryffindors were normally his most abysmal students, with the notable exception of Hermione Granger (who hardly counted, since she excelled at everything). For a Weasley in particular to make a perfect potion gave one pause. The potion in question was a healing draught, which gave Snape an idea. He mused on it for a moment. Ginny bit her lip and stared into her cauldron in apparent fascination. Finally, Snape inquired, “Do you like medicinal magic?”

Still refusing to meet his eyes, surprise at his comment evident upon her freckled face, Ginny nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Madam Pomfrey has a student position open in the infirmary. Shall I send her a note for you?”

Finally the girl lifted her head, out of shock more than anything else. “Yes, sir,” she stammered. “Thank you.”

He nodded curtly. “Thank yourself, for actually making an effort in this class,” he raised his voice slightly, addressing the entire class, “which is more than I can say for the rest of you. The work today has been especially pathetic. I can stomach no more. Class is dismissed.” He swept back to the front of his class.

Behind him he heard Dierdre MacAlistor murmur, “High praise indeed, Weasley, but notice he didn’t dish out any points for it.”

Without turning around, he said softly, “I didn’t quite catch that Miss MacAlistor. Care to repeat it?”

“It was nothing, sir,” she said quickly as she packed up her things, rolling her eyes at Ginny, who snickered and stuffed her books into her pack.

“I’m glad to hear that. I’m having lunch at your father’s pub this weekend, and I’d hate to have to tell him anything distressing.” That effectively silenced the girls’ impudent giggles.

A few moments later his classroom was blissfully empty. It had been the last class of the day. He just had to write the note to Poppy Pomfrey, and do one more quick chore, and then he could relax for the evening. It was a most gratifying thought.

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Severus Snape stood sentry in the hallway, carefully monitoring the students to ensure that they returned to their respective houses after the Halloween feast. He especially looked out for the Three Musketeers, Harry, Ron and Hermione, who he knew were wont to sneak out and cause mischief while the teachers were otherwise occupied. Impatiently he crossed his arms, thinking of the peaceful isolation and butterbrandy (the older and more sophisticated cousin of the perennial student favorite, butterbeer) that awaited him, as the corridors emptied. He decided to wait a few extra minutes to be on the safe side. Sure enough, about ten minutes later he heard the tell-tale signs of wayward students.

"...Not to upset the house-elves, okay? Though I don't see why you wanted to come with us, anyway!!"

"Oh, be quiet, you prat! We don't want Snape to catch us!"

Too late, he thought, a sadistic smile on his lips, and started to conceal himself in the shadows. When they passed by, he would step out and teach them a lesson. He immediately changed his plan when he heard a bloodcurdling scream, followed by muffled sounds of struggle and something being ragged away. He ran as quickly as he could in the direction of the noise.

Flying around the corner, Snape nearly collided with Harry and Hermione.

"What happened?" he demanded.

"I-I don't know!" Harry cried, wild eyed. "Something huge, some kind of monster, I think, just grabbed Ron, and took off with hi m! I couldn't see exactly what it was! It took Ron!"

"Who screamed?" Snape asked urgently.

"Me, sir," said Hermione. "Whatever it was tried to grab me, too, but Harry managed to pull me away."

"Okay," Snape paused to think. He wracked his brain for a quick solution, and finally hit upon it. And groaned. He hated it, but there was no help for it. He was just glad Dumbledore had thought to confide in him. "Miss Granger, go get Professor Jackson; she'll be in her chamber." He gave Hermione directions. "Harry, stay by me. Did you see which direction this...whatever...took Mr. Weasley?"

"I, erm, I think so."

"Very well then, we'll try to pick up the trail. Miss Granger, get going!"

Hermione ran off to find Professor Jackson, while Harry led Snape intrepidly in the opposite direction.

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Professor Jackson was indeed in her chamber, changing for the teacher's party. Charity Parsons, the Muggle Studies instructor, was going excitedly through Aurora's music collection, which included selections from Muggle bands as well as wizard ones. Charity had initially approached her in order to learn more about American Muggles. In America, the wizarding community was much more open to using Muggle technology if it was convenient, so Aurora was able to supply her with quite a bit of information. The two witches, however, had discovered they had a lot in common, as well as being of an age, and their friendship had grown since then. Often after classes were over, they would spend the evening in one of their chambers, comparing notes on the students and exchanging stories of their pre-professor lives.

Thumbing through Aurora's favorites, which featured U2 and Pearl Jam as prominently as the Weird Sisters, Charity giggled. "Just wait until Arthur Weasley gets his hands on you!"

"Why is that?" Aurora wondered. She had met all the Weasleys still attending Hogwarts, and was secretly amused by Fred and George’s antics, but knew nothing about their parents.

How Charity would have answered would remain a mystery, because at that moment there was an urgent rapping upon the door. Aurora opened the door, shocked to discover a breathless Hermione Granger at the threshold.

"Professor Jackson, yo u must come right away!” Hermione panted, leaning against the doorframe.

"Slow down, honey, what's going on?" Aurora asked, a feeling of trepidation washing over her.

Hermione caught her breath and announced dramatically, "Some monster has kidnapped Ron; Professor Snape and Harry are trying to follow it! Professor Snape sent me to get you." She said all of this very quickly.

Aurora immediately switched gears. "Show me the way," she demanded, hastily pulling on the nearest set of robes. Grabbing her wand, she followed Hermione out the door without a backward glance. Charity sighed, sorry to be of no help, but glad that her area of expertise was boring old Muggles. Muggles were very, very safe. No-one ever got Avada Kedavra-ed studying Muggles.

Aurora and Hermione navigated the castle’s passageways quickly. Finally they reached the spot where Hermione had left Snape and Harry.

Softly, Aurora called out, "Harry? Professor Snape?"

"Over this way!"

Aurora followed the unmistakable sound of Snape's voice, Hermione padding softly after her. They found Snape and Harry standing in a shadowy alcove, transfixed in horror at a vaporous green skull with a snake protruding from its mouth that hovered close to the ceiling.

"The Dark Mark," said Hermione in hushed tones.

Aurora's breath hissed out from between her clenched teeth.

"So, what happened to Ron?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Snape said nothing, but turned his eyes toward Aurora. His unfathomable gaze rested heavily upon her. Aurora bit her lip and avoided making eye-contact with him, knowing what he was silently asking. Harry and Hermione glanced between the two adults quizzically. Reluctantly Aurora nodded. Mustering her courage, she stepped forward, tucking her wand inside her robe. Looking back at Harry and Hermione, she said, "This is where Ron was taken?"

Confused, they nodded in the affirmative. Upon their confirmation, Aurora faced forward once again. She planted her feet firmly a shoulder width apart. Putting her arms straight in front of her, she joined them at the wrist. Her palms stretched outward, one to the ceiling, one to the floor, with fingers spread wide. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Aurora's voice seemed to fill the air around them as she voiced the spell.

"*Divinium*!"

The air in front of her began to glow a pale yet vibrant unearthly pink. Her face went slack and blank. A low hum surrounded her.

"What the..." Harry began, but Snape silenced him by holding a long finger to his narrowed lips. He whispered, "Divination, Potter, the real thing. Truth Seeking." Hermione nodded thoughtfully. As Aurora stood in a near-trance, Snape continued in hushed tones. “Perhaps if you actually pay attention in Trelawney’s class, you might be able to do that spell one day, Potter. It seems doubtful- one must be a skilled mage to perform it- and neither you nor Trelawney qualify.” He smirked, an d might have continued his digs at Harry, but was distracted by a motion from Professor Jackson.

All of a sudden, the pink light started to fade. Snape rushed forward to catch Aurora as she started to collapse to the cold stone floor. Gradually Aurora swam up through the murk and began to sense concrete reality. There was no embarrassment in her deep brown eyes as she awoke in Snape's arms. She pushed away and steadied herself, seeming to radiate a confident aura. Three faces looked at her expectantly.

Calmly she said, "There was no monster."

Harry' s jaw dropped open. "But, Professor Jackson, it was something huge, I saw-"

She shook her head in the negative. "It was a Deatheater. He simply used a Glamour to make himself more... impressive."

"A Glamour?" Hermione queried. This was something even she had not heard of.

"A charm, used to alter one's appearance without transfiguration. It’s complicated, but instead of transforming yourself, you convince everyone else that they see something else entirely. You can take on a different appearance, or just make yourself seem more there, or less there, than normal. A popular spell with Morgaine le Fay when she was trying to intimidate Queen Gwynhwyfar. That was before the Separation, of course..." Aurora trailed off, realizing she had gotten a bit carried away with her explanation, still feeling the odd calm that imbued her whenever she performed the Truth Seeking spell. Which, she reminded herself, was why she hated doing it. It messed with her head, and she hated feeling like she wasn’t in full control of her faculties. She supposed it was her own fault for being one of the few students to take Advanced Divination, but it was a helpful spell for an Auror to have. Or a would-be Auror, to be precise.

Hermione appeared satisfied, but Harry still was unhappy. Surprisingly Snape remained silent, staring at Aurora.

Harry demanded, "So why did this Deatheater take *Ron*?"

"Bait, Harry," Aurora explained. Harry's face still registered confusion.

Finally, Snape spoke. "To lure you, boy; don't be dense! They must be gathering, waiting to be joined by the Dark Lord. They expect you to foolishly go after Mr. Weasley, as usual."

Harry’s features twisted into a snarl. "Well, you would know, wouldn't you, you-"

"Enough, Harry!" said Aurora, sharper than she had intended. "Professor Snape is correct in his assessment of the situation. Now is not the time for hysterics." She paused to think. She took charge without even thinking about it, which was abnormal for her, but she was still feeling the side-effects of the spell. "Professor Snape and I will go to retrieve Ron, since time is of the essence. Harry and Hermione, you two go to Professor Dumbledore and apprise him of the situation."

Harry couldn't contain himself. "I can't let you two face Voldemort alone!"

At the unexpected anguish on Harry’s face, Aurora softened. "Harry," Aurora said gently, "if we do this quickly, we can get Ron out of there before Voldemort even arrives. Now, *please*, take Hermione and go!"

"Wait," interrupted Snape. "First, Harry, show us the passage you take to Hogsmeade."

"Well, you know, erm, the Whomping Willow," Harry squirmed.

"No, Potter, the other one. I know there is a simpler way, else you wouldn’t dare it so often. Forget your future high jinks for the moment and think of your friend."

Snape stared Harry down.

"Fine!" Glaring all the while, Harry muttered directions to the witch statue. "You have to tap her hump with your wand and say Dissendium."

"Very well- now, go to Dumbledore immediately. Do not follow us!" Snape warned, by now all too familiar with how the Gryffindor’s mind worked.

Aurora placed her hand on Harry's shoulder, trying to offer him some small reassurance. "It will be all right, I swear it. We'll bring your friend back."

Dispiritedly, Harry nodded. Silently he and Hermione set off towards Dumbledore's office.

"Well, shall we, Professor Snape?"

Snape looked back at her grimly. "I suppose we'd better."