Stacking the Deck

"Maybe I'll change the syllabus this year," Jones mused, looking over a much-creased piece of paper. "I've taught this the same way for the last four years."

The mid afternoon sun slanted in through the open outside door of the Dark Arts building and into the staff room, glinting with motes of dust and the curl of smoke from Jones' cigarette left burning in a garish plastic ashtray in front of her. The table was half full of grumpy Dark Arts professors. Paul Wronski slouched next to her, head back, dozing. Ludwig Lowenstein sat across from the Potions professor and mirrored Wronski's pose, but managed to look aristocratic while doing so. Rolf Haken alternated between tapping his pen against the table and rolling it between his hands, creating what sounded to be an endless soft clacking. The rest were unwilling to give up the last of summer's freedom. Even Todor Rabe, the much-ignored department head, avoided sitting down. Rabe was restless, constantly pacing between the door and the head of the table, as if looking for someone or contemplating escape. Siegfried Kessler and Yuri Gregorov loitered at the back counter. Kessler had returned from vacation with a new collection of jokes that he doled out sparingly. Jones had heard three thus far and they all centered on sex. Leaning against the doorjamb, Gilles de Rais stood silhouetted by the afternoon sun, a dark shadow talking to another in the form of Loup de l'ombre, the only non-professor present.

"What time is it?" Wronski mumbled.

"About fifteen minutes since the last time you asked. I dunno. Around three or so." Jones tapped her pen rapidly against the table, gathering an amused glance from Haken whose own steady tapping had counted out the seconds for long enough that the noise could almost be ignored. "What do you think? I could maybe add something towards the end, maybe some kind of protection ritual thing."

"What are you talking about?" Wronski finally opened an eye to stare at her.

"I thought it might be time to add something new to my Ritual Magic classes. I'm kinda bored with the structure the way it is now. For a Dark Arts class, there's hardly anything 'dark' in it. Seems like I should teach them some of the real stuff." Pursing her lips, she started making a list of things that could be added and almost immediately began scratching items out. "It just seems like sixth and seventh year students should be really getting into some of the more complicated work."

"Why? I don't know about your students, but mine can barely figure out which end of their quill or pen to hold. I spend my entire class worrying that one of them will either melt their cauldron or put the wrong amount of stuff into it and poison everyone in the room."

"Yeah." Jones frowned and reread the syllabus again. It looked very basic to her. "I guess so. Two years ago, I had a really good class and I don't think it challenged them very much."

"Two years ago, your other section couldn't get past how to set up the basic wards so they could work the spells. Remember? I do. You complained about them after every one of their classes. Wasn't that the year that you had a note from one of the parents asking why their daughter wasn't taught love spells?"

Groaning, Jones began to scratch out the few remaining additions to her schedule. "I tried to forget about that. Love spells." She shook her head and whistled tunelessly while sketching out a diagram. "What a crock. Now, this is something that I could add on for a group that had it together."

He leaned over as far as the chair would allow him before tipping. It wasn't far enough and he grunted his way into a sitting position so he could pull the paper towards him. The diagram looked far too familiar. "No way. They won't let you do that again."

An evil grin spread over Jones' face as she retrieved her sketch. "I didn't do it. Gregorov did. Not my fault that he had no clue how to summon one."

"Like you have a ton of experience." Wronski slumped onto the table and watched as she added details to the figure. "It was pretty cool that you figured out how to handle it. Wish I'd seen it."

"Coward. You all left. It was just me and Gregorov and Belphegor." She corrected a symbol and then redrew two others. "Besides, it was Gregorov who actually sent it back. I didn't call it; I couldn't dispell it."

"Did he ever thank you?" Before Wronski finished his question, Jones brayed a harsh laugh. "Didn't think so." Lowering his voice, he leaned over closer and added in a voice only barely identifiable as an imitation of Gregorov, "I did not need help. I am Russian and know all there is to know about the Dark work."

She lifted an eyebrow at him and smirked. "I'd be very careful about mimicking him. They've been doing the wolfie thing a lot this summer. I think their hearing as well as their sense of smell is working over time." Taking a careful look at where everyone stood or sat, she leaned over. "Besides, it wasn't exactly a secret that he couldn't control it. The Defense guys saw him standing there drooling at the thing when they left. Heiniger asked me how I took care of it. Good enough for me that I got credit for figuring it out."

Jones sighed and replayed the last of the ill-fated demon ritual. Gregorov hadn't been prepared for what he summoned and, instead of calling one from the minor arcana, chose one from the major arcana. It could have been a disaster, but Belphegor had underestimated his audience. The demon had taken the most seductive woman's form he could. Gregorov, along with a host of others, had stood stunned by it. Belphegor had loved the attention, giving Jones enough time to recall what little she knew about demons. It had taken a lot of salt to break the demon's glamour and then a combination of magic and sarcasm to get Gregorov's wits back long enough so he could send the demon back. The lack of serious repercussions had surprised the entire staff. The only person affected by the fallout had been Rabe, who had been foolish enough to allow himself to be talked into a competition between his group and the Defense Against the Dark Arts area. Kessler had equated it to the snuffing of a star.

Rabe paced past again, this time walking all the way outside.

"What's with him? He's usually raring to have meetings. Gives him a chance to show off." Wronski rocked his chair back onto its back legs. "I hope he didn't invite someone from the administrative area to come and lecture us about budgets or something like that." He clanked his chair back down. "You don't think we're going to get in trouble for using the Institute's accounts in England, do you? Maybe that's it."

It was a more than likely possibility. "Could be right. Shit. He'd love that, too. Combine a chance to feel superior and get a lecture in about policy and procedures. Rabe heaven." It was enough to take the shine off the day entirely. Jones quickly shuffled her diagram and syllabus to the back of a pad of paper she had brought along to doodle on or, in the off chance that Rabe had something important to say, take notes.

While they eyed Rabe, the rest of the staff shambled over to take their chosen seats. Kessler and Gregorov sat at either side of the head chair, not to be close to their department head, but because it was where they had both sat for years. De Rais took the seat closest to the door, but preferred to stand. Loup curled up at one end of the couch facing the doorway. Jones glared, but knew she couldn't say anything since the other woman wasn't at the table and therefore not an official part of the meeting.

"Over here! We have been waiting!" Rabe's voice grabbed everyone's attention. He stood on the gravel pathway in front of the building, waving. "Do you wish to speak now or would you prefer to wait until the meeting's close?"

Jones couldn't hear a reply but Rabe nodded eagerly and pointed towards the door, obviously expecting to follow whomever he had been waiting for. She stretched across the table and tapped Kessler in hopes of an explanation. Kessler shrugged. He hadn't been informed of the surprise attendees. Their guests were hardly the sorts to attend a Dark Arts meeting. Professor Anton Heiniger, the head of the Defense Against the Dark Arts Department, and Auror Josef Baldung marched in ahead of Rabe who raced to catch up with them. Slightly out of breath, Rabe stood next to his chair and looked over at the men, waiting for them to speak.

Heiniger appeared distinctly annoyed as he approached the table. Once there, he made a point of surveying the staff room. The annoyance was replaced with disgust and he stuffed his hands into his pockets to avoid touching anything. "As you may know, my area is short a position this fall. Professor Jessup was to have retired last spring. Unfortunately, before his successor was chosen, the former department head, Professor Lester, fell ill and died."

The statement was met with uncomfortable silence. From the couch, Loup made a sound that could have been a laugh, a yawn or a sniff. Gregorov's mouth set into a hard line. The topic was one that had provoked a great deal of private debate amongst the Dark Arts faculty, but no one had dared confront Loup as to whether she had cast the spell that killed Lester. Jones was certain that she had, but had decided not to ask too many questions. She tried to convince herself that it was "professional courtesy".

"As it is now, Professor Jessup has agreed to remain on staff for this semester only. The Defense Against the Dark Arts courses that Professor Lester taught have students enrolled in them for this fall." Heiniger looked as though he was drawing on some hidden reserve of strength before he began again. "The Headmaster," he sighed and stared at the floor. "The Headmaster has pointed out that our departments parallel each other."

Jones leaned onto the table and looked over at Baldung. Baldung stood straighter and a smile crossed his face. She looked up and down the table, wondering what the dead man had taught and which lucky person would get stuck with Lester's courses.

"After reviewing all of your files," Heiniger began, obviously hating every word he had to say, "and with the guidance of the Headmaster as well as the generous efforts of our local Aurors, I have been instructed." He paused, shut his eyes and tried again. "It has been decided that there will be some changes to the current course load of Professors Haken, Rabe and Jones."

"What changes?" Haken asked in a voice rarely heard by the group. Until his name had been mentioned, he had worn his usual toothy grin and looked bored. The boredom had changed into wariness.

Heiniger kept his eyes on the floor. "As I have said, we reviewed everyone's files, even those that had been sealed by the former Headmaster, Igor Karkaroff." He looked up and met Haken's eyes. "Most impressive, Professor. Your background..."

"My background!" Haken exploded, jumping to his feet.

Jones' eyes bugged at Haken's metamorphosis. She stole a glance at Loup who'd implied several times that there was a lot more to Haken than there seemed. Loup's expression was unreadable, but Gregorov snarled and Kessler had gone carefully neutral.

"Professor Haken." Heiniger put his hands up as if warding off the angry man. "Please believe that this is in the Institute's best interests and your own as well. A man of your training should not be wasted on teaching children Introduction to the Dark Arts years one and two. You should be helping to shape those who protect us against the Dark. Why, with your experience, you could be a great asset to our seventh year students as well as our local Aurors." When Haken did not resume his seat, Heiniger blanched and sweat sparkled on his brow. "Auror Baldung, if you would..."

Baldung took two long steps to stand at the table. From beneath his arm he pulled a clipboard and made a point of carefully reviewing what was there. It looked as though he imitated Werner. "Professor Haken, you were of great help to us over the summer." Haken folded his arms and waited. Baldung paled and then stuttered when he began again. "The, the actual courses you would take on are perhaps negotiable. It is understood that you have a great deal of time invested in your current curriculum; however, these...." He pulled out a sheaf of papers and handed them to Haken whose eyes narrowed into a glare and who did not retrieve them. Baldung put the papers onto the tabletop. "These courses are the ones we wish you to consider. It was felt that Professor Rabe could take on your current course load. Much of his time has been taken up by administrative duties and, frankly, it is felt that this would be a better use of his skills."

Stifling a snigger, Jones mentally substituted, "And the Headmaster is tired of his toadying and whining." The snigger won, drawing unwanted attention to her.

Baldung smiled broadly, emboldened by a friendly face. "Professor Jones, your schedule is such that you have time to take on another course, one that you are uniquely suited to teach."

The compliment fell like lead. "What do you mean?"

"In your long career as a professional," Baldung's voice swelled with confidence, "you know well how important it is to be able to conceal one's work."

"Yesssss," she hissed; the lead-in gave her a very bad feeling.

"Your unique background will enable you to demonstrate the techniques to dissipate and disguise spells as well as how to detect. It should be an excellent exercise for you, no?"

"No!" Jones glared at Rabe whose expression was that of a child just informed that he was no longer the teacher's pet. "Rabe! Do something! They can't just put extra classes onto our schedule." Rabe slowly focused on her and then looked away. "Can they? They can't do that! I already have a full course load! I won't teach anyone how to catch me at my work."

"Professor Jones," Baldung purred, "have you not told us many times that you no longer practice the Dark Arts and that you are now a teacher? Is this not teaching?"

Clearing his throat, Heiniger looked up again. "If it is any consolation, this was not our first choice, either. We had hoped to have both positions filled by the beginning of the school year, but the preparations for the summer and Professor Lester's tragic death slowed the process considerably. The letters needed to be redrafted and resent. The deadline for Defending the Defenseless as well for A Single Candle passed by before we could place our advertisement there. Our search has only just begun to yield applicants for the positions. Should all go well, your services will not be required after the Christmas holidays."

"Do we get anything for this?" Jones asked, her eyes slitted. She hunched over her pad of paper and meditated on whether walking out now was worth the possibility of losing her job.

"Ah, yes. Compensation. You Americans always expect something of the sort." Heiniger was happy to change the topic. "There will be some sort of monetary benefit, but I was told to remind you that you did sign a contract and that you have been bound to serve the Durmstrang Institute." He cleared his threat again, this time the effect was that of a nervous habit. "Professor Haken, we understand that you are no longer bound and that your contract is quite different. Your records indicate that there was some sort of deal struck between yourself and the former Headmaster. The paperwork was incomplete."

"How'd you get away with that?" Jones asked, ignoring for the moment that this was not the time to ask any questions.

"Professor Haken is a man of many talents." The words seemed to come from the darkness itself. De Rais, back lit by the sunlit doorway, was all shadow. "I know that the arrangements were beneficial for the Institute at the time and, I may add, still are today. It would be unwise to pursue this avenue further. You do understand, Professor Heiniger?"

Heiniger stood at attention and said nothing.

"Perhaps I could take over Professor Lester's classes," Rabe offered. Lowenstein picked up the papers Heiniger had left on the table and leafed through them. The look on his face indicated that he doubted Rabe would be capable of the task. Glaring, Rabe snatched the pages and turned to sit down at his place at the head of the table. He made it as far as the chair and stood reading the course descriptions. "I see," he muttered, making it clear that he did not. He scanned through all of the pages and then straightened them with a sharp tap on the table. "Perhaps Professor Kessler might be so inclined."

The sheets of paper gradually made their way around the table. Neither Kessler nor Gregorov made any comments. They alone seemed to understand what they saw. When the batch arrived at her place, Jones made a point of carefully reading through the descriptions and felt lost by the jargon. "Do you understand any of this?" she asked Wronski in what she hoped was a whisper. He shook his head without looking at her. With a click of her pen, she began listing some of the words that caught her attention, fully meaning to look them up later. She had barely completed the first page when Haken reached over and took the course descriptions. Haken quickly scanned the pages. He shook his head and set them face down on the table.

"Students are already enrolled in all of the courses. Is there nothing we could offer you?" Heiniger's voice was steady, but his body posture begged. "Your family," he started.

"No one contacts my family," Haken said tonelessly. "No one."

"Yes. From your records, I understand." Baldung swaggered over to stand in front of Haken. "Trust us, we will ensure that nothing of the sort happens again."

"They said that, too." It was said so quietly that the room itself felt cold. The bright sunlight went pale and icy; whatever small amount of cheer there had been in the room fled. "Should anyone or anything speak or write or make any attempt to contact my family," he looked up and glared at Baldung, "it would go very badly. Do not push me, Auror Baldung. It is not wise to do so."

The threat hung in the air, pushing at Baldung's pride and Heiniger's poise. The stalemate seemed unbreakable until Haken forced his false smile back. "I will examine the coursework. There is a possibility that I may take some of it. If so, then there is a chance that Professor Rabe may yet be able to relieve me of some of the sections of my current workload. You see, I did make a promise and I am quite loyal to those who have provided for me these many years." He paused, watching until Heiniger's face registered relief. "It pains me to know that my privacy has been invaded."

"It was unfortunate." Heiniger coughed nervously and glanced at the door.

"Professor Heiniger, I can't teach this." Jones snapped her fingers against her pad of paper. "I might be able to do something on detection techniques, but there's no way I could demonstrate how a professional would disperse the energies." Jones' face twisted with the conflict of pride and vanity. "I just couldn't do that."

She sounded so sincere that, for a moment, Baldung appeared to rethink the proposition. The moment was spoiled by a throaty chuckle. Baldung glared over his shoulder at Loup who leaned insolently against the arm of the couch. "You wish to add something?" He narrowed his eyes as if trying to recall something. "Loup? Was that the name? Auror Werner did mention you did not use an actual name but instead an alias of sorts. Is that correct?"

Not rising to the bait, Loup rose slowly from the couch. "Call me what you wish. I would dearly enjoy listening to a lecture from Professor Jones on her detection and dispersal techniques. Hopefully, it would be more complete than the last one I heard." Lazily, she stretched and sauntered out the door, heading towards the quarters she shared with Gregorov.

Sputtering, Jones leaned onto the tabletop and glared after the other woman. How dare she! Wronski defused her with a snort of laughter. Turning, she saw him cover his mouth to hide his smile and then his shoulders shook. The laughter tumbled out, sounding rough and raw, dragging her in with him. The two of them went from chuckles to howls until it hurt to laugh any longer. Wiping her eyes, she punched him hard on the shoulder. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, but she can always get you. It's really funny. You two troll for each other constantly and she had that one timed perfectly. I know that was supposed to be serious. You two," he laughed. "I swear if you ever quit sniping at each other, you'd have to take up a hobby to use up all that extra energy."