Through Darkness and Light

Through Darkness and Light

Chapter 4

Teaching Duties

Harry clutched his wand, hidden in the folds of his robe. He had a curse in his mouth ready to fire.

"Harry," Hermione hissed, "just ignore them."

Easy for her to say; she wasn't the one Malfoy was impersonating.

As if he were in a drama, Malfoy placed one arm above his head and pretended to swoon. Crabbe, Goyle and the other Slytherins laughed with hands on their stomachs.

"You're right." Harry released his grip on the wand, "they're not worth it."

Ron's eyebrows rose. "What are you talking about? This has gone on long enough! And after all the trouble he's got Hagrid into, we need to blast him!"

"No," Hermione shook her head, "don't let them win. Besides, we've got enough to worry about."

"Hey, Potter," Malfoy called, "watch your back around the elf, I've heard she's worse than the dementors."

Tugging on his arm, Hermione dragged him down the hall. "Come on, we have to hurry or we'll be late."

"Yeah."

He wasn't exactly looking forward to going to Elvish Studies, especially with all the rumors. Several students said that she just stared at them, others claimed she spoke in elvish the entire time.

The one thing they all seemed to agree upon was that she had a way of unnerving people with just one look.

"There's no way her class could compare to Professor Lupin's." Ron frowned, "I just hope it isn't as bad as everyone's been saying."

"Ginny liked her," answered Harry. "She went to visit Elessar the other day."

"Hmph." Brown hair fanned out behind Hermione as she stormed off.

"What's her problem?"

Harry shrugged. Ever since that first day Hermione's hackles rose whenever Professor Elessar was mentioned. It was strange; in fact very un-Hermione like. She respected teachers, yet when it came to Elessar she was on the offensive.

"Let's go."

They caught up with Hermione and mumbled, "Should have been allowed to drop the class. Have enough on my hands as it is."

"Hey, Hermione," Ron asked, "what's the big deal anyway? You were the one who was supposed to be looking forward to this class."

"I already told you," she snapped.

Conspiracies were only believable when there were facts backing them up. Sure Elessar's arrival and Black's escape were timed perfectly, but that could just be a coincidence. Plus there were plenty of other people connected to ancient magic. Black could have gotten his crystal phial from anyone.

"Look, I'm sure it won't be that bad. Besides, she might let something slip."

Hermione glared and tucked a piece of hair behind an ear. She was probably upset that he gave her a logical argument, one that she couldn't refute.

Layers of dust covered the windowsills in this hallway and the glass looked like it could use a good scrubbing. Voices murmured further down the corridor.

Hermione shot Harry a questioning look.

He shrugged, not understanding it either. They were running late, thanks to Malfoy; everyone else should be in class. He turned the corner and nearly ran into Hermione.

"What's going on?"

All their classmates stood around the intricately carved doors. Most had their hands in their pockets, eyes glued to the ground.

Neville's body was pressed against the wall and his eyes darted back and forth.

Hermione, with her usual tactfulness, blurted, "What's wrong? Won't the door open?"

Lavender and Parvati frowned, but remained silent.

All of the students stared at them until finally Neville squeaked out, "I can't go in first."

"Ridiculous."

Hermione huffed and pushed the doors open. She stomped in, not even checking to see if anyone followed her.

The classroom wasn't anything special; in fact, it appeared quite ordinary with regular desks and chairs. Granted, there was a large wolf lounging in front of the teacher's desk, but other than that it was normal.

Movement shifted next to the window and Harry lurched back, knocking into someone. Professor Elessar stood near the window, her brown hair catching in the rays of sunlight. How could he have missed seeing her?

The student Harry hit, which turned out to be Dean, pushed Harry. "What are you waiting for?"

"Sorry."

Hermione strode to the front and dropped her books onto the table. The loud thump jolted Harry out of his temporary paralysis and he followed after her.

Elessar focused on Hermione, who was placing her blank parchments and inkbottle on the desk in calm, methodical movements. For several heartbeats Elessar stared at Hermione before turning to Harry.

The world dimmed. All he saw was the pair of brown eyes, sorting through him layer by layer. His heart constricted and his mind repeated, 'look away.' He was suspended in time, glancing into another world.

"So you came in," Professor Elessar said, breaking her gaze on Harry. "My earlier class took much longer."

Even though Harry was in the front, he heard the shuffling of books, his classmates most likely doing everything they could to avoid looking at her. Hermione apparently had a different idea. Instead of cowering she held her head high with her arms out in front of her, almost like she was challenging Elessar.

"And," Elessar continued, "they were Gryffindor's; fifth years."

The tension eased slightly. One thing was sure, after class he needed to have a talk with Fred and George. He looked at Ron who gave him a lopsided smile.

Elessar's attention shifted to the wolf lying on the floor. The wolf regarded Elessar and a deep rumble echoed in the room.

A smile teased at the corners of her mouth. She looked at each student in turn, as if searching for some hidden information. "I cannot teach you. It would be useless."

"And why not?" Hermione asked. "Is it because we're human?"

"Yes, and also unfocused."

His skin tingled and blood rushed to his face.

Hermione shot up in her seat. "How dare you talk to us like that? Just because you're some elf doesn't mean you can treat us like we're incompetent!"

"Hermione, stop it," Harry said.

"You know nothing about us, especially what we can or can't do." She swatted Harry with her hands until he finally yanked her down.

Elessar's expression didn't change. "You cannot learn if you are not focused."

Hermione squirmed under the watchful elf's eyes but retained the stubborn tilt of her chin. A few wisps of hair stuck to her cheeks and the Gryffindor tie she wore was askew.

"I will not begin teaching my magic for none of you are focused."

Hermione mumbled, "Great, I'll just leave. Absurd class anyway."

His grip on her tightened. There was no way he was about to let her leave; this class was required whether she liked it or not.

"Then why are we here wasting our time if you won't teach us?" asked Seamus.

"Time is never wasted. I will not teach you magic today, but that does not mean you shall not learn."

Regaining control of his emotions, Harry asked, "So what are we going to learn?"

"Whatever you wish."

All right, if that wasn't an open-ended statement, he didn't know what was. With that unreadable face, he hadn't the faintest idea what Elessar was thinking.

"Could you be any vaguer?" Hermione snapped.

"Possibly," Elessar said with a smile. "Questions. You cannot focus because you have too many questions. You may ask them."

From the corner of his eye, he watched Hermione. The way her mouth pinched together and her eyes narrowed, he'd learned over the past two years to read those subtle signs. Now was not the time to ask about Black, why couldn't she just get it?

The whispering ceased and Harry glanced back to see what caused the change. Neville's hand was in the air, shaking so badly Harry could see it from where he was sitting.

"Yes, Neville?"

The color bleached from his face, "How, how did you know my name?"

"You told me."

"No, I didn't Professor," Neville stammered.

"That's right," spoke up Dean, "he was waiting outside with the rest of us and never once said anything."

"He never spoke his name, but he still told me."

"How in the world did you know his name without him saying anything? That's completely absurd," Hermione said.

Once again Elessar gave no reaction to Hermione's rude behavior, just shrugging it off as she answered the question. "The heart of elvish magic is drawn from the spiritual world. Simply, your spirit told me your name, Neville."

Ron snorted. "How can a spirit talk? I mean, besides ghosts."

"The spirit I speak of is not a ghost. Every being is connected to the spiritual world and leaves an imprint of itself on the physical one." She waved her hand before another question could be asked. "We shall come back to this. Neville has a question."

"Uh, right," Neville squeaked. "Well, I was wondering about your wolf."

The wolf's eyes swept across the room and landed on Neville. Harry wasn't sure who had the more intimating gaze, the wolf or the Elf.

"This is Shra, my companion." Elessar held her hand out, "Á tulë síno, Shra. Merir omenta le."

Shra stretched her legs, spreading each of her toes apart much like a cat waking up from a nap, and trotted over to Elessar's side.

The dam seemed to break and all the students spoke at once. "What did you say to her?"

"How can she understand you?"

"Can we learn to talk to animals?" The volume increased as each tried to get their question heard.

Elessar's mask cracked at the edges, allowing Harry to see bewilderment cross her features before smoothing itself back.

"I asked Shra to come here and that you desired to meet her."

"What kind of language was that?" asked Seamus.

"Quenya, the oldest form of elvish. It will enable you to use elven magic."

Shra bumped into Elessar's side, the force causing her to step back.

"I am not ignoring you."

For some reason, Harry couldn't help smiling. Elessar didn't seem the type to smile often or laugh and her companion was a playful wolf. The contrasting personalities were quite funny.

Shra snorted and headed towards the students, clearly displeased. The wolf approached Hermione and tilted her head to the side.

"You are safe. She will not bring you harm."

With only a slight hesitance, Hermione scratched Shra behind the ears who eagerly leaned into her hands.

"So how can we use this magic?" Harry asked, deciding to bring the conversation back to what the class. "We're not elves. Doesn't that defeat the purpose of learning elvish magic?"

"No, you're not," Elessar replied. "Let us change the question, where does your own magic come from?"

Silence answered her.

"You've been in this school for three years and have not wondered this?"

Harry thought for a moment, asking himself that same question. Where did they get their magic from? Why was it that some were extraordinarily gifted and others couldn't touch it?

He remembered Hermione had once tried to explain the difference between Muggles and wizards with a definition from, "Everything You Wanted to Know about the Wizarding World." As far as Harry was concerned the book managed to completely avoid the question, stating something about having magical essence.

Hermione had eventually admitted that she didn't know what the book was talking about. However, she did tell them this topic was one of the biggest controversies in the wizarding world. No one brought it up or talked about it, like they were afraid to know the real answer.

"Well, our wands," answered Dean.

Elessar took Harry's wand from his desk. "Your world's existence and the division between mortals, were created because of wands?"

She inspected his wand before looking at the class. "Wands are simply a vessel, a tool that mortal magic requires to help focus the caster's spirit. What would happen if I gave your wand to a non-magical person?"

"It wouldn't matter," Lavender said, "they still couldn't use magic."

"So then why can you?"

What made Harry different from Dudley? That's when it hit him. Such a simple question with just a simple answer.

"We were born with magic."

Hermione's head jerked towards him. He didn't know if she was upset that he got involved in Elessar's conversation or that he figured out the answer before she did.

"Exactly, Harry. You each have a gift that can never be taken away. The heart of your magic is no different from mine, both drawing their power from the spiritual world."

She held Harry's wand out to him and he retrieved it, careful not to look in her eyes.

The students chattered, everyone attempting to talk at once.

What did this mean for their world?

The truth was adults feared magic's origin. They didn't want to know why they were different than Muggles; living in ignorance allowed them the luxury of looking down on those less fortunate.

"That still doesn't explain why we can be taught," Hermione said loudly.

Professor Elessar gave no indication if she was angry or upset. The crack in her mask he had seen earlier was back, but this time in her eyes. They were intense as always yet it appeared there was also confusion.

"No, it doesn't," Elessar answered quietly. "Speak with me after class, Hermione. I know there is something you wish to ask me."

Black, it had to be about Black. Were the rumors true? Could Elessar read people's minds?

"You may have heard the belief that everything in the physical world is mirrored on the spiritual plane," Elessar explained. "Whether it's a flame or a small plant, everything has a spirit. Without realizing it, your magic draws from that power."

"You're kidding? I've never heard of anything like that before." Ron said.

"Then I shall show you."

There was patience in her tone, something that Harry hadn't been expecting. After all she was an immortal; it was only natural for her to have patience since she's lived so long.

Elessar's voice deepened, echoing throughout the classroom, "Antaura súlimë, á lasta nye. Á quata sina sambë as ómalya."

Something tickled Harry's cheek and he realized it was Hermione's hair. Glancing at the windows he saw that they were shut, so then where was this breeze coming from?

Hermione gasped and Harry instinctively grabbed his wand. A gale blasted his face. The force behind it was so strong and he held his glasses in fear of them flying off.

What was going on?

The wind howled, vibrating the room as if it were a small-scale earthquake. Papers swirled in the vortex and several were snatched up from Elessar's desk. Hermione dashed for her parchments, catching them just in time.

"Ferëa."

The wind seized completely. Harry straightened his hair down while Hermione did the same.

"This is elven magic, the ancestor to your magic," Elessar stated. "What is granted in the fëa world, also affects the physical one."

"That was amazing," exclaimed Seamus.

"How did you do that?"

Hermione jumped in, "Let me get this straight, our magic evolved from elf magic? That's preposterous!"

"Well why?" Ron questioned. "I mean, it makes sense so far."

Swiveling around in her chair, Hermione faced Ron. "Elves and humans weren't the greatest of friends; in fact the books made it quite clear that humans didn't trust the elves. And second, I hardly believe that elves would share their secrets with humans, especially about magic."

"That is true, and it isn't. Throughout the ages elves and men fought side-by-side. Due to those alliances you now live free without the shadows covering this world."

"Why would elves go through so much trouble to teach us humans magic?" Hermione shot back.

Elessar's lips were in a tight line, the sole expression of her feelings. "The only way for you to fully understand is to understand the world as it was back in those days. The relationship between the two races is complicated, and in truth this hasn't changed."

"One of the few books that talk about magic's origin mentioned something about a 'magical essence' and described that as the reason why we can use magic as opposed to Muggles," Harry stated.

"I fear that is all the truth that remains in this world. The rest has been lost to time. What if I were to tell you that the reason you can use magic was because of elven blood?"

"Elves haven't existed for thousands of years so any blood would have thinned out. Besides, my parents are Muggles, but I'm witch," Hermione said. "If what your saying is true then they should be able to use magic."

"The magic of Men evolved from what the elves taught, but the two are not the same. Hermione, your parents cannot use mortal magic, but they can be taught to use mine."

"Do you have any idea of the consequences if anyone were to find out what you just told us?" Hermione stuttered. "You simply can't talk about this. The Ministry would be in an uproar!"

"Whether I displease those in power matters little to me. To understand who you are and those who are non-magical, if there is to be peace, this must be accepted."

"So we're really not that different? I mean us and Muggles?" asked Hermione quietly.

"That is correct."

Dean snorted. "I bet your Slytherin classes took this well." His comment seemed to break the tension. Several students giggled and many had smirks on their faces.

"Hey!" Ron yelled. "We could use elven magic playing Quidditch! You know, like to make the wind pick up right as the other team's about to catch the snitch?"

"I'm not sure." Professor Elessar's forehead crinkled. "What is Quidditch?"

"What?" Ron jumped out of his seat and waved a finger at her. "Where have you been, underneath a rock? Everyone knows about Quidditch!"

Elessar shifted under the scrutinizing stares of her students. "I've heard it mentioned before. Why, don't you tell me about?"

When it came to Quidditch, neither Ron nor Harry needed to be asked twice. "It's a great game!"

The students went on telling her about the rules and catching the snitch.

Elessar's face was animated, going wide when Ron simulated Harry diving low to avoid a bludger and wincing when he broke his arm. Completely opposite from what they'd seen so far, no longer hiding emotions. Maybe she wasn't so bad and simply not used to being around humans.

Unfortunately the class had to end at some point.

"If you have any questions, come see me."

Harry leaned over to Ron, "What do you think?"

"I can't believe that she's never heard of Quidditch before. She's teaching wizards, how could she not know about it?"

"Oh honestly, Ronald," Hermione said, "he was obviously talking about the earlier conversation."

"Oh."

She turned to Harry and snapped, "And why didn't you want me to ask her about Black?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Ron asked sarcastically, shoving her words back at her. "That's not the kind of question to put her on the spot with."

"I don't care. I'm going to talk to her."

This was getting out of hand. The only other time Harry had seen Hermione this uptight was when she was studying for their exams.

"Hermione, are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Why not? She told me to come ask her after class."

"Accusing a teacher about having connections to an escaped convict doesn't seem like the brightest of ideas."

"Doesn't matter, Harry, she's going to do it anyway. Besides, Elessar's looking right at us."

Hermione's face turned white and she whipped her head around.

Elessar stood there regarding them with a cool expression.

Hermione's shock lasted for only a second before she stomped around the table towards Elessar. "Excuse me, Professor Elessar..."

"You wanted to know about Sirius Black."

"What? But how did you know?"

"I heard you. The other day in the hallway you were speaking of him."

This was exactly what Harry had wanted to avoid. "We didn't mean to say that you were in league with Black -"

"We've heard of this crystal phial that Black wears," Hermione cut in, "and were wondering if you knew anything about it. Dumbledore said it was ancient."

"I have heard many speak of this. I would not know if it was 'ancient' magic without examining it, but if Dumbledore believes so then I will defer to him."

Satisfied with the answer Harry was about to turn away when Hermione gripped his arm, digging into his thin robe.

"Not only can't he take this phial off, it's believed You-Know-Who gave it to him."

"Hey Hermione, you've never been afraid to say his name bef -"

Hermione shot Ron a look, in which he promptly shut his mouth and his face turned a dark shade of red.

Elessar's eyebrows narrowed.

Harry focused on Shra who sat patiently at Elessar's side, her lips pulled back in what he assumed was a smile.

"Again, I do not know, Hermione. This phial, from what I've heard, doesn't feel like something Voldemort would have created."

"You said his name," whispered Ron.

"Why shouldn't I have?"

"We shouldn't have to explain it since you've supposedly been in the wizarding world for years," shot Hermione.

Elessar waved her hand. "You misunderstood. I was asking why I should be afraid to say his name."

Why should Elessar be afraid? He had more reason to be afraid of Voldemort and yet he wasn't.

"Well, I guess you shouldn't," Harry said after a while. "You are an elf after all."

Elessar turned to Harry. "There are worse beings than Voldemort. Perhaps, as far as mortals go, none could carry more darkness, but it's the actual darkness you have to worry about."

A chill passed through his body. Something stirred as he looked at her. She knew so much, had seen so much. What did that mean, this uneasiness that he saw clearly in her eyes?

Ron's thoughts must not have been much different than Harry's because he asked, "What do you mean by darkness?"

Elessar face changed to one of surprise. "Just stories of a forgotten Age."

Harry didn't believe that one bit and shared a knowing look with Ron and Hermione.

Elessar gathered several papers that had fallen on the floor. Without saying anything, he bent down to help.

Most were written in some strange language, the way the words flowed together was actually quite beautiful. The thought shocked him; strange to think of words as beautiful.

"Thank you," Elessar said and took the papers from him.

"Uh, see you later Professor." Harry followed Hermione, who looked at Elessar for a brief moment.

There were so many thoughts zipping through his mind as he processed everything they had learned. All this about them having elven blood and their powers evolving from elven magic, it was too much.

"Come on stop moping Hermione," Ron said. "This is probably the most interesting class we have besides Lupin's."

"You know Hermione, it could be worse. Elessar could have been another Trelawney," Harry interjected.

"Anyone's better than Trelawney," she answered.

* * * * * * * *

Light filtered through a nearby window, illuminating small particles of dust. Memories of the students' laughter and voices echoed in the now silent room, the past two hours were engraved into the very walls.

Calrheane slid into her chair, the black cushion absorbing her body.

Shra trotted over, nails scraping against the stone floor. She rubbed her head against Calrheane's leg, the slight nudge bringing the comfort she needed.

"You were right. I did it."

She stroked Shra's head and froze when she noticed her hand shaking. She had been nervous. She was an elf; she wasn't supposed to be nervous. What did this mean?

"You are also human."

Calrheane shook her head, unable to believe what she was seeing. Was it finally happening? Could he have been right?

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," said a voice behind her.

She snatched her hand down, clutching it in her lap.

Remus leaned against the doorway. His hands were tucked in brown suit pockets and he regarded her with an amused expression. The robes hung off his shoulders, billowing out behind him.

Shra leapt towards him, her tail thrashing about as she greeted him.

"Remus."

There was a twinge in her heart, small actually to the point where she almost didn't register it, as she watched Shra's friendly demeanor with Remus.

"Calrheane," he answered her with a nod. "I thought I would come by to see how you were doing."

The smile he gave her was surprising; nothing like the forlorn face when she first met him. His gray hairs stood out more in the sunlight, heightening the depth to his face rather than retracting from it.

"I am well. How are you faring?"

Remus chuckled though she didn't understand why.

"I haven't felt this good in a long time." He grabbed a chair and sat across from her. He scratched behind Shra's ears and she tilted her head to give him easier access.

The change in Shra's attitude amazed her. Alone with Calrheane there was always seriousness, never any of these grins. Lately, there was a mischievous glint, a playful side that had everything to do with the people Shra was around.

"You're that nervous?"

"I am unsure what you refer to."

"Your expression a moment ago, it reminded me how I felt before my first class."

"Nervous? It is difficult for me to recognize this feeling and many others."

For whatever reason, she didn't hear Remus waiting at the door and yet the moment his hand stopped brushing Shra's fur, she knew.

"I see."

Silence stretched out between them as if the room was shrouded in a thick blanket that blocked out all noise.

"Well, maybe I can help. Many people use the term 'butterflies in your stomach' when they're feeling nervous. You're anxious and fidgety. You don't know whether to stay or run the other way."

The sincerity in his voice surprised her. There was no judgement or condescending tone, just a simple statement.

"I know little of these emotions."

"The night we first met, one of the many things I felt was nervous. I think you were nervous too."

Should she be happy that she felt this emotion at such a normal occurrence? Was she connecting with the hidden, mortal part of her soul?

Remus relaxed in his chair. "I could be wrong of course, but there were times when it looked like you were ready to run. You're not used to big crowds are you?"

"I never had much experience."

His face appeared cheerful and a smile tugged on his lips, yet his voice spoke of a deeper hurt. "I tend to like smaller groups myself."

"As a child, you were alone before you went to Hogwarts?"

With the mention of Hogwarts a shadow fell across his face. "My parents kept me away from other children; it was safest that way, for the children and myself. When I came here it was like a dream, one that I had believed would remain just that."

"Everything changed?"

"Yes, not only was I learning magic but had three of the greatest...friends."

The last word came out no more than a whisper and she turned aside, hoping to ignore the pain she felt from him.

A cold nose touched her hand.

Perhaps, Calrheane could confide in him. Maybe it would give him strength as well for what was to come, knowing that there were others who were just as lost as he.

"I was alone growing up as well. There were those who wished me harm. For my protection my parents sent me to live in a place where men and elves lived together."

He surprised her, not asking about the reasons or why her parents weren't able to protect her. "But if you grew up around humans then why don't you know about their emotions?"

"In order to learn this, you must be taught by them. I was feared, even as a child."

"Why? I don't see any fangs or claws, unless you're hiding them from me."

To find humor within his darkness was a feat that caught her off guard. How did his spirit still shine with the taint? If he could speak in such a manner of his life then she would honor that.

"I am an elf who was supposed to have been born a mortal. Men feared me because I was different."

"You know, even after all these years that fact hasn't changed. We fear what we don't understand."

This strength he showed was amazing. She did not know how many years he had carried the black blood, fighting against its influences, but he still hoped.

"I can't say if it will be different this time around," Remus continued, "but I won't fear you."

The words he spoke rushed through her. Her surprise broke through the cool mask of indifference.

"So tell me, how did it go?"

"They taught me of Quidditch."

Remus chuckled and she found that she desired his mirth. "I thought you were the one that was supposed to be teaching them?"

"I was, but they were teaching me as well."

"Then you are a better teacher than me."

"My classes will never compare to yours."

"You heard them huh?" he ran a hand through his hair uncomfortably and the smile fell from his face.

Calrheane didn't understand his sudden change of mood, brought on by a simple statement. Shouldn't he be happy that the students, in particular Harry, thought so highly of him?

Shra rested her chin on his leg. It was odd seeing the two of them like that, the way his face softened as he gazed at her. Perhaps it was the wolf inside both of them that drew them together, like kindred spirits.

"Why you are saddened by this? You're a great teacher."

"I am happy. It's just difficult to be here after all these years. And Harry, he..." Remus paused, "he doesn't know that I was friends with James."

"Harry's father?"

"Every time I look at Harry I see James. I feel responsible for what happened; I should have known."

Calrheane knew he was referring to Sirius Black and the belief that Sirius was the Potter's secret keeper. After these twelve years, grief still bound Remus; a gray thread that clung to his spirit.

"Sirius Black will be found. You shall find the truth and the answers you seek."

"Yes, soon it will be all over. Maybe, Harry will even let me in his life, but being his teacher is a good start."

The look in his eyes pulled at her. She stared at her hand for a moment before reaching out and giving his hand a slight squeeze.

"Thank you."

"For what?" he asked, his eyes wide. "You were the one who is comforting me."

"Your help."

There were no words she could speak to express her gratitude. The smiles that frequented her now stemmed from his kindness and acceptance. It felt right to belong.

"Thank you as well," he said while releasing her hand. Remus must have noticed her perplexed expression because he explained, "for talking with me, treating me like a human."

"No matter what you may feel, even if you are a nauro. You'll always be human," she said quietly.

Just like somewhere a part of her was also human.