The Swan's Fight

"Give yourself a caffeine headache - To hide the taste of sleep" Tom McRae, Bloodless

Chapter 1: Beginning Again

Meet Negra: black hair, black eyes and extremely pale skin. She looks somewhat like a corpse. That's not really seductive. Well, it is understandable, as she hasn't had a chance to rest since the Order contacted her. She had to think, first, about whether she'd accept or not their request that she teaches in Hogwarts. It was the hardest decision she ever had to take, and even after accepting, she still has doubts. And she doesn't care that it's much too late for those doubts, now that she is in the Hogwarts Express, staring at the land passing by, green and grey and green again, ponds and fields and some more fields, gloomy and uninteresting: English.

She closes her eyes, crosses her legs. After her decision was taken, she had to go to the Order Headquarters to agree officially to the Order's demands. She took the plane from Paris to London, and then walked to number 12 Grimmauld Place. It was an ugly house that stank of the Dark Arts, Aristocracy, and all that which she used to flee. Once she was there, she was welcomed by Remus Lupin. She had never thought she would see him again; yet there he was, standing on the threshold, an almost imperceptible smile across his face, waiting for her to step in... It was good to feel the loneliness fade away.

England is dull. Moreover in September, when you're a twenty-five year old girl and you've seen all your family die in that country precisely seven years ago.

She must not think about that. She should sleep. Yeah, sleep is good. And on that train, there's nothing better to do.

Negra closes her eyes and promptly falls asleep, hoping no dreams will be powerful enough to twist her memories.

Furious whispers wake her up. She smells them before she sees them: two boys and a girl.

"You think she is Muggle?"

"She does wear Muggle clothes."

"How very smart of you."

"This is not nice, Harry, Luna is just trying to help."

"Neville, hold that toad of yours, before it jumps on her. I doubt she'd like it."

Negra opens her eyes widely, provoking instant uncomfortable silence. The kids must be around sixteen or seventeen. The girl looks like an owl, her huge bulging eyes stand out between...what's that, radish earrings? The boys are very different from one another; one of them looks quite infantile while the other has a much more mature glance, much sadder, too. That latter boy - Harry - speaks in an uneasy voice. "Sorry we woke you up..."

The witch waves her hand in a carefree way. "It's okay. Two Gryffindors and a Ravenclaw together, mmh. What year are you in?"

"Sixth year." Harry is obviously a leader; it seems normal, natural that he answers the questions. "Are you the new teacher?"

She gives an ironic snort. "I'm afraid I am. I've heard the Defence Against the Dark Arts is a cursed class in Hogwarts...that should make it interesting." There is a smile in her voice, would that be tenderness? - She sits up. "My name is Negra Glace. You must be Harry Potter, and these friends of yours are Neville Longbottom and Luna..." She hesitates.

The weird witch mumbles casually, "Lovegood."

"Lovegood, right. Well, all of you have famous parents." It only seems to please Luna. "I can't wait to see what you guys are worth."

Harry, not so happy with the situation, and positively uncomfortable in front of the young teacher, chooses to take a French leave: "Nice to meet you, Professor Glace, but we must meet friends..."

She snuggles in the train seat, and clearly prepares to go back to sleep. "Off you go, then."

Following Harry, Luna and Neville rush out into the corridor, exchange a glance, and Luna explains: "I've heard about her, you know, Negra Glace. My father says she stopped playing Quidditch after a horrible accident."

"She played Quidditch?"

"What kind of accident?"

"Well, she was Seeker, like you, Harry, and she used to play professional, but her family was involved in Dark magic. And there was this fight... My father told me that her mother was a vampire, and she bit her, and then she killed her mother, and... There was something with dragons, too, but I can't quite remember what it was..."

"You are saying that she is a vampire?" Neville is growing paler than usual. The idea of being taught Defense Against the Dark Art by a Dark creature doesn't seem to please him much.

"Dumbledore wouldn't let a vampire teach; and plus, if she was one, she wouldn't bear sunlight, right?" Harry learnt a while ago to be quite sceptical about Luna's assertions.

She becomes defensive. "I'm just saying what my father told me."

Next door, her eyes closed, Negra smiles. A vampire, really. Never heard that one.

*

Albus Dumbledore, the whimsical Hogwarts Headmaster, stands up and raises his arms in a most theatrical way. He lowers a hand, though, to catch his glasses which started to fall off his nose.

"Students, a new year starts, despite a shattered wizarding world. This being out of the way, I shall delve into my duties. It is with great honour that I present you with Miss Glace, coming straight from Paris in order to grace us with her presence, as she accepted to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. Please welcome her and make her fell at home."

Negra doesn't stand up, she just stiffly waves to the crowd of students. Her grim smile reveals quite obviously that she wishes with all her might she could be anywhere but here. Damn, everybody's looking at me. I wanna be home, I wanna be in Paris; why, oh why did I accept this fucking job? Woe me.

Dumbledore sits back and she throws him a furious look. She hates to be the centre of attention, and having a whole school staring at you can be quite traumatizing. He smiles ingenuously - don't ever trust his smiles, this man can be evil - and gives her a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Would you fancy some fried celery with that, Professor Glace?"

*

Negra spent an entire day to arrange her little room, all red and silver, as if even in her taste she had to show her weird alliance between Gryffindor and Slytherin... But that's quite bad taste. Red and Silver is after all a particularly ugly alliance. She slaps herself mentally and waves her wand to turn the colors all yellow and green... No, that doesn't work either. Too flashy. Argh! Dumbledore's attempt to expose her as a kind of new attraction has disturbed her greatly: thanks to the old man, her temper is now holding by a thread.

Someone is knocking at her door. "Come in!" Her voice is soft but the tone isn't really inviting, though. The door creaks, and Minerva McGonagall steps in. The old woman is stern-looking and strict-sounding, but Remus told her that she was a particularly important ally.

"Professor."

"Professor Glace, I hope you didn't forget that the sixth years are waiting for you in the classroom. Right now."

...Oops. Negra looks so sorry that she has no need to apology to be forgiven. McGonagall hides a little smile: she's never seen a teacher nervous enough on her first day that she forgets to teach.

"Oh. I'm going. Thank you for telling me, it could've been a disaster." And as fast as possible, Negra runs out of the room, but not fast enough that she hides the transfiguration teacher her violently flushed cheeks.

When she enters her classroom, the students are particularly noisy, commenting her being late and making prognostics. It even seems like a blonde-haired Slytherin is taking bets about whether she will show up or not. He looks like he has stacked up quite a lot of money.

Come on, Negra, it's time to show them what Lymp taught you: you can be shy, clumsy and respected. She sits in front of the mass and sternly slams her hand twice on her desk. "Come on, I'm here now. End of the bets."

Most of the students shut up, but the blonde is not in a hurry. He still collects the results of his bets. Negra narrows her eyes. She is feeling uncomfortable, and this student's attitude pisses her off. She barks.

"Malfoy! Sit down before I jinx you!" Malfoy looks surprised that she would be so blunt, and falls down on the nearest chair. Now, that works. Note to myself, threaten one of them, and all of them are going to shut it up. The students' reaction is so amazing (you could hear an angel fly) that she fights not to smile.

"So, what do we have here...sixth years. I believe you wonder who I am and why your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is so young." She pauses, just for dramatics. "The answer is quite simple: I've lived all my life with Dark creatures. Not vampires, like some of you seem to think, but werewolves." A hand shoots up, as fast as the lightning.

"Yes?"

"Have you met Professor Lupin?" That's a cunning student. Those kids may not be as idiotic as they first appear to be. She smiles warmly, until she realizes that the kid is no one else but the Malfoy brat, again.

However, her instant dislike of that child is no reason for her not to answer. "Well yes, of course, he is a relative of mine." Malfoy looks afraid of her. Maybe this year will be entertaining after all.

*

I am so very dumb. I'm sure I was high when I accepted to be teaching. Even though it's just a cover job. Hagrid's house is well behind her, she is hiking in the Forbidden Forest, careful not to trip on the roots and the stones that cover the way. This place is so dull... Was that a spider?After a fifteen minutes walk, she reaches clearing, and sits down under a tree. Now all I have to do is wait.

She waits, waits a long time, and then she waits some more. Where the hell is he? Remus is never late. What could have happened?And when she is not expecting it anymore, a lean hand squeezes gently her shoulder. "Negra." Remus Lupin looks tired. As always.

She glares at him anyway. "You're late. I was about to leave."

"Liar." She smiles. He's right: he's always right. She stands and they don't hug; they never need to hug to remind each other that they are a family. Touching is a sacred act just for lovers."So, what is that you wanted absolutely to tell me with so much secrecy?"

Lupin is serious again, which makes Negra's smile quickly fade away. "You remember you asked me why we needed a spy inside Hogwarts?"

"Yes, its still sounds weird to me. I must spy but I don't know what; and if there is a place where we have tons of members of the Order, it is Hogwarts. So tell me why I'm here." Indeed, her situation is completely ridiculous, whenever she thinks of it. That's mainly the reason why she tries not to think. At all. Which works just fine.

"You have heard about Earth magic, right?"

She fidgets. Remus raises his eyebrows. "What?" She looks pretty uncomfortable, but then, it's the first time someone has mentioned Earth magic in front of her. She's never had to react to it before.

"Don't tell me you..."

She checks her nails. And in a fake bored tone, she mumbles: "How did you guess, Moony?" He frowns. She obviously doesn't want to tell. "All right, all right. I'm an Earth magic specialist. Well one of the very few still alive." She shakes her hands in a tragic way. "Why can't I hide anything from you?!"

"And that's the reason why Dumbledore wanted you to spy... Funny how everything is much more logical now. Anyway, you know therefore that Earth magic is the third kind of magic, after plain magic and Dark magic, and-"

"I wouldn't say 'after', considering the fact that it's the most ancient kind of magic. But yeah, I know that. And I also know that it's a forbidden kind of magic, for which you can be imprisoned in Azkaban." She seems quite bitter; maybe it reminds her some bad memories. Which is a possibility, since she probably has had to hide forever.

"Someone - a student, most likely - practises regularly Earth magic in Hogwarts."

Negra stares at him, eyes wide open in amazement. That's impossible! "I didn't feel anything." She thinks for a second or two, then adds, "I suppose my job is to find out who, right?"

He nods. "Sure. Well, along with how, and why." As the situation is serious, he switches to French. "Will you be fine?"

"The Earthweb is quite messy those days. I don't nearly feel as much as I used to. I'm afraid I'm so troubled that my magic is loosing ground to my moods." She looks as weary as he is, although she is at least ten years younger. Remus quietly observes his cousin, a stream of worry flowing through his eyes. She gives him a smile. "I can use the fox's feelings to make it. But make no mistakes, I will make it. I always do, eventually."

Relieved, the two cousins sit down, their shoulders meeting. The woman definitely considers the matter of her spying out of the question now, and starts talking about her teaching experience.

"You didn't tell me the first year were that clueless. 'Course, I could've guessed, but some of them don't even know how Muggles travel! I'm the freaking Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and yet I had to explain them what a plane is. Anyway, that student you told me about, the Longbottom son, he is not that clumsy once you give him a chance... But one of them is just getting on my nerves, it's that Malfoy boy, he is just so...Aargh!"

Lupin gives an amused smile. "He is 'Aargh' ?"

"Ooh yeah. And Dumbledore, I swear he freaks me out. I'm sure he knows, even if I don't know what he knows, I know he knows it. Believe me when I say that's unnerving. And Snape, he'll end up stabbing me in my sleep, I don't trust him, he told me you were together in school, you could've-"

"Enough! I won't survive!" He laughs when she rolls her eyes. "Did you receive any news from Lymp?"

"I did, he owled me." She gives him a piece of paper.

<

Foxel of my dreams, I followed the Order's instructions, and I am getting bored in Moscow. The weather is cold and I don't understand Russian. It is even worse than French, if you want to know. My nose, my wonderful nose is red with cold, and it destroys the perfect harmony of my features. By the way, I miss you.

The full moon was surprisingly fine, and the inn-keeper said that I wasn't too noisy - I know you hate those cages, but it's a necessary device when one travels, ask Moony - which was very kind of her as I know she was lying. I think she had a crush on me. I think you can be mad at her, but not too much: don't kill her, please.

Do you know now what you must spy? I still have no idea, and as I already told you, I am BORED. I think of you, then I sleep, and I eat, and I think of you again. I am beginning to wait impatiently for the full moon, because at least something's happening then. Dumbledore owled me that my contact will arrive in Moscow next week, I can't wait.

I love you as much as I'm bored, Lymp.

>

"Dear God." Remus is paler than usual.

"Yes." Obviously she thinks it is funny.

"He's bored." It clearly means: if he's bored we are not sure we'll survive, so find him something to do, RIGHT NOW! She has to agree. A bored Lymp is never good news. Last time he was bored, she remembers some bloke lost a limb. She can't quite recall whether it was a hand or a foot, though.

"Yep. We are in trouble." She laughs in her evil way. "But he's still in love with his nose and me, in that order, so I guess everything is going to be fine."