Owl Eyes

Owl Eyes

Chapter Ten

The Essay

How different are we,

With hearts that seek

Love that will reach eternity?

Here war has come.

It means death for many,

But power for some.

Evil speeds a chasm wide

'Tween houses, hearts and hands,

In unity we must abide.

When evil calls

We answer quickly,

And when the Dark Lord falls

Then we shall rejoice

As we did once before,

And sing out with one voice!

Until that day must the tides be parted?

For even love is tainted by war,

And in dissention's wake, lie the brokenhearted.

So now we walk to battle again,

We fight as one

For we are kin.

Evil foes from here depart.

Darkness we cannot accept

For it sours love, and chills the heart

By the time we had returned to the common room Hermione and Ron were back from their afternoon shelling crabs. The room was bustling with students rushing in and out from their rooms or coming in from the library with stacks of books. I slammed into something solid as I made my way, behind Harry, to where Ron and Hermione sat. Several small thuds were heard and they could only be the falling of a stack of books.

"Sorry," Neville said breathlessly.

"That's okay."

"I was just on my way out. Didn't see you there."

"It's quite alright," I said. "What books were you carrying?"

"Extra reading for transfiguration. I'm trying not to fall behind. Don't worry I can pick them up," Neville replied.

"Sorry. I guess I'll see you later. I've got an essay to write."

Bye."

I made my way through the maze of tables to the one that the four of us always used. The room was a hum of voices but as I made my way closer to my destination I could make out the words of my friends.

"-An extra assignment," Harry said with a huff.

"Bugger that!" Ron said.

"Harry," Hermione said, "you can't expect being in the...well you know, to be easy."

"But-"

"Hi, Lucinda," Hermione said, stopping Harry from protesting.

"Hello," I replied cheerily.

I had no reason to be too upset about the essay Snape had assigned about dueling when friends were present. I was sure he had his reasons and intended to do the best I could in writing a proper response to his question.

"I suppose we should get started on that essay now," Harry said in a mournful tone.

"That was what I had planned."

"I could help you!" Hermione blurted. "I mean I would be willing to help unless it's something you can't talk about or you don't need my help."

"It's nothing secret," Harry said.

"What's it gotta be about?" Ron asked.

"We have to write about how we would duel. A strategy for working with others who are on our side. What we should do if one of them should collapse or be killed. Fighting with efficiency and safety," I explained.

"Sounds interesting," Hermione mused aloud.

"That's bloody boring if you ask me," Ron put in. "Chocolate frog anyone?"

Harry and I both accepted one of the sweet confections. I had already begun to map out my essay in my head. I needed to lay things out logically, not just sporadically write about fighting wars.

"Maybe you should outline what you intend to write," Hermione suggested. "I've been making outlines for the book readings for each class to add to my lecture notes. I think it'll be really useful when studying for OWLs."

"Where do you find the time to do that?" Ron asked with his mouth full.

"Well, if you focused on your school work then maybe-"

"Perhaps we should go to the library, Harry," I suggested, cutting Hermione off. I didn't want to listen to her and Ron arguing anymore.

"Good idea," Harry replied. He rose from his chair and shouldered his bag.

I did the same.

"You guys coming?" Harry asked.

"May as well,: Ron said in a bored tone.

"Of course," Hermione said. "If you have extra homework the least we can do is help. Besides, I've already finished my other homework and read ahead for this week's classes."

Neither Ron nor Harry replied.

I couldn't believe the time and effort Hermione put in to her educational career. It was totally absurd. What was the point of getting the highest marks in class? Who cared if she was smarter and more knowledgeable than everyone else? We were fighting in a war. We were little more than soldiers. It was the practical magic that would count. Strategies, dueling skills, and healing charms were what we'd need after leaving Hogwarts, and in the cases of Harry and I, perhaps before leaving. If we could answer questions in class, or accurately outline a book chapter, it would do little to save us from the threat of Voldemort. Did she not completely understand the severity of that threat? I did not know.

The group of us walked in silence the entire route to the library. I assumed that each of us was pondering our reasons for going. When we arrived Hermione was like a buzzard to its prey. She went right to the dueling and defense section and ran her fingers along the many spines of old tomes shelved there. Every now and then she'd hand one of us a volume to carry to the table where we had set up camp.

"What, exactly, are we looking for?" Harry asked, looking up at Hermione.

"Whatever you think is relevant," she replied.

Her fingers went back to sliding along the book spines. They made little thunking and hissing noises as she moved along the shelf.

Once we had the books we needed Hermione read to me in a whisper. It was never good to have cranky old Madam Pince ready to throw us out of the library. We needed free access to the books to get our assignments done. It should've been against school policy for her to ban anyone from the library's educational benefits, but I had been told that she had done it in the past even if just temporarily.

I heard a snort from behind me and turned.

"How sweet. A muggle reading to the poor little blind American girl."

It was Draco Malfoy. I was sure I hated him even if some of it stemmed from what I'd heard from my new friends.

"Go pick on someone with your own-" Ron was cut off.

Before my hot tempered friend had a chance to finish his speech I had pulled out my wand and hexed Malfoy. I was sure the hex would convince him to leave us alone and keep him from telling on me.

"What the hell just-" Malfoy spluttered, "happened? I...I...let's get out of here!"

I decided he must've been talking to his two side kicks and my suspicions were confirmed when three sets of foot steps left the room, one of them at a run.

"What did you do?" Harry asked.

"Urine letting down spell. It's quite useful."

"You didn't?!" Hermione was in awe.

"I did."

"You mean," Harry asked, "Malfoy just wet his pants?"

"Yup!"

"That's bloody brilliant!" Ron cried out a little to loudly.

"Quiet now, this is a library," Madam Pince scolded.

"Sorry man," Ron said loud enough for her to hear. Then under his breath he begged, "You have to teach me that one."

"Where'd you learn a spell like that?" Harry asked.

"From my parents. It's quite useful for training a puppy to go outside."

"Wow," Ron was still to excited to quit gibbering.

"Well it did seem to have the desired effect," Hermione analyzed.

"Yeah," Harry said, "and I doubt he'll have the nerve to tell on us with wet pants especially since Madam Pince didn't even see what happened."

"That was the whole point," I said quietly.

"You didn't even argue with him," Hermione pointed out.

"He's not really worth my time."

"True, we do have work to do," Hermione remembered suddenly.

She began reading to me again. The boys tried to read but would pause for short periods of time to comment on what Malfoy's face had looked like the very second he had realized he had been hexed and what the effect of the hex was.

"You won't get any work done if you can't get your mind off Malfoy," Hermione scolded.

***

Several hours of hard work later would find me ensconced at a round table nearest the fire. My chin was pressed upon my right palm and my head teetered atop my neck, which had grown tired of supporting the weight of my corpus long ago. Finally I stretched, each of my muscles reluctant and unforgiving. I awkwardly rolled up the scroll I had been writing on. The essay must've been over four feet long. I didn't measure it because I knew it would easily fulfil the one foot requirement. I had found three very useful books in the library and, after reading great portions of them, had composed what I thought to be a most excellent work of art.

When Snape was ready to meet with Harry and I, I would be ready to turn in my assignment.

I made my way to the dormitory thinking of my nice, soft bed the entire way.

***

Dueling with Efficiency and Safety

By Lucinda Lee

Before considering safety and efficiency while dueling one must understand the extraordinary difference between dueling for practice in friendly circumstances, and dueling in times of war against real enemies. The former involves simple rules which need not be discussed here. The latter, because of its seriousness, requires much strategy and a few rules that are worthy of an essay on the subject.

The days of sword fighting are mostly over. In the present time one need not be a competent horseman, travel many miles on foot, or camp outside under the stars for many nights. This time may come again, but for now we fight a much different war than those experienced by our grandfathers and theirs. The skills we seek, though holding the same importance, are quite different. No matter how the battle is fought, in the end the goal is to win. Over taking the enemy is the ultimate goal, with each small, subsequent battle contributing to that goal. Still another goal, is to come out with as few casualties as possible while putting out the least amount of effort possible. The saying, "Rest up for there is another battle to fight tomorrow," holds true. Because of this efficiency is important. And because of this, losing soldiers in battle is extremely undesirable.

There are as many strategies for fighting a battle as there are men and women who stand to fight in it, and perhaps ten times that number. Only one must be followed though, that of the leader. The leader must rule and all must obey him. A division of forces throws efficiency to the wind and often results in high numbers of casualties. Oftentimes the leader will appoint other leaders to lead in carrying out orders. The plans of these assistants must also be followed. War is nothing but a plan, a strategy of winning, though it has more permanent and terrible consequences than does a game of chess.

Most of the greatest leaders in history were fine strategists though few did survive and win only because of luck. It is the former who we should desire to be led by. It is the former who we should aspire to become. In cases where there is no appointed leader we should develop our own strategies. We must learn to think in the dark of the night while half asleep. We must try to form plans while we stagger around in the first light of dawn before our morning coffee. This is the only way we can succeed when facing an enemy as powerful as Voldemort and his death eaters. To prepare ourselves, and maximize efficiency it is valuable to learn to function on instinct. The most useful curses should be learned so well that they are cast off like flames from a fire, natural, quick, and nearly silent. However, they must be more calculated than mere flames. Only practice in dueling at various times and places, against many opponents, can help one discover these skills.

With regard to safety, one must always keep an eye and an ear open to one's surroundings. The most deadly situations occur when one is caught off guard and engages in battle at a disadvantage. This, not surprisingly, is one of the first skills taught during auror training. Secondly, casting hexes that render the enemy physically incapable, even if temporarily, are most useful and should be used especially when one finds himself out numbered. Lastly, it is an asset to learn the proper use of a variety of healing spells. Medical attention is often many miles away and sometimes completely inaccessible.

Wars have been fought for years. Sometimes noble and well skilled knights did the fighting and other times poor surfs and tillers of soil who possessed little skill and no formal training. A commonality of all of these wars was the friends that fought in them. Brothers and sons fought side by side, their best friends fought and died beside them. After one survives the death of a loved one on the battle field it often becomes easier to face war in the future, that is, if one survives at all. It is important to realize, while still training for battle, that running to the aid of a friend who has fallen during a duel could cost one his life and perhaps the lives of others. It is wise to develop other strategies to ensure that fellow soldiers are safe such as calling out to them while still engaged in battle, moving close enough to get a peak at their injured bodies, and etc. War is not for the weak and some would say that love makes one weak and unfit to duel. I would assert though, that love makes one strong. Bonds of love give him something to fight for. It is love of life, light, and one another that make a wizard willing to die for his people. We need not be martyrs but ships sailing for dawn who keep their sails at full mast even when one should sink. It is not cold-heartedness but love of one's people that would allow us to push forward even while grieving. Grief, though at first it seems to rob us, will lift up our hearts in the end, and out of love, not revenge, grief will bring us to duel ever more.

In closing, I would submit to you, that efficiency and safety can indeed be learned through practice but it is trial and error that will cement their importance in one's mind and physical being. I would also like to propose the thought that love contributes greatly to war and can be used as a powerful tool. Further I would like to suggest that war has changed little over the years so far as its motives and strategies are concerned. Though they may become increasingly more complicated the basic ideas remain mostly unchanged. Finally, I would like to suggest that all young wizards, in this era, be exposed to the strategies of war, useful hexes, efficiency in battle, and safety while dueling.

Resources:

The History of Wizarding Wars by Stuart Winn

Be Always on Guard by Alastor Moody

Advanced Dueling by Simon Snape

***

At breakfast the next morning it was all I could do to not fall asleep in my scrambled eggs. Ginny poked me as my head tottered dangerously close to my goblet of pumpkin juice. As a result I was startled and the beverage toppled over, splashing everyone near by, before I had time to catch it or even register that it was in danger of spilling.

"Rough night there, Lucinda?" Saemus asked from a few seats down.

"Yeah," I grumbled back. I wasn't about to tell him about the extra homework assignment I had been working on most of the night.

"Did you get it done?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," I replied again, not much in the mood for conversation.

"I hardly scratched out twelve inches," Harry muttered quietly.

"Let's hope Snape doesn't measure it," Ron said worriedly.

"He probably will, knowing him," Hermione suggested.

Harry gulped loudly.

Just then an owl landed on my plate. So much for finishing my breakfast. I wasn't really in the mood to eat anyway. I retrieved the letter and when I opened it, it said, in Professor Snape's voice, "My office at eight o'clock this evening."

"Oh, no!" Harry exclaimed from across the table.

"Did you get a note too?" I asked.

"Yeah, does yours say eight tonight?"

"yeah,"

"I think maybe I should try to rewrite that essay over lunch."

"Harry," Hermione lectured, "if you're dueling tonight like last time, you can't be missing meals. You'll pass out, or be seriously injured!"

"But he's got a point, Hermione," Ron put in.

Harry changed the subject slightly.

"Aren't you worried about your essay, Lucinda?" he asked.

"No,"

"You should be," Ron said with a huff. "You just haven't been around Snape long enough.

"I stood up and slid from the bench.

"My essay is probably four feet long," I said. "I don't think there's need for me to worry."

Hermione followed me and we left the great hall.

***

Severus waited impatiently behind the desk in his office. He drummed the fingers of his right hand on the desktop impatiently before resuming his shuffling of parchments. There were so many assignments to grade that it made his temples throb just thinking about it. He sighed. How was it he came to have this job again? It mattered not. What did matter was the education of two young members of the Order of the Phoenix. They were worth his time though these essays before him were a waste and he could nearly splatter red ink over the lot of them and they would be graded accurately. Where were those blasted Gryffindors anyway? If the girl was coming with Potter she would surely be late because Potter was always predictably tardy.

At five after eight the two of them skidded to a halt outside his office. They were both breathless.

"P p Professor...sorry we're-" Potter spluttered.

"You're late, Mr. Potter, Ms. Lee," he said coldly.

"We-" Potter tried again.

"No excuses!" Severus bellowed. "Your essays, please. That is, unless you haven't made the time to complete them as of yet."

"I have," Potter answered.

Lucinda said nothing. The girl was smart and knew how to stay out of trouble most of the time. She had reached into her bag and was already handing him the parchment she had composed her essay on.

"Here you are, Professor."

"Here is mine," the boy said fumbling with his bag.

"Very well," Severus said with a sneer. "I shall read them and you will report to me tomorrow so that we can discuss what you have written. Is that quite clear?"

Yeah," Potter said. He turned to leave.

"What time should we meet you?" the girl asked. She was quite practical.

"Same time, Ms. Lee. My office."

"Thank you, Professor," she said as she slipped out the door her cane tapping out some sort of map for her to follow.

The girl was a different sort, Severus mused. She was unlike other students he had come across. It was not her gifts that made her so different for others had had gifts. Perhaps not the same gifts but gifts just the same. It had to be her disability that set her apart. There had been other disabled students at Hogwarts, few, but enough for him to realize that they were different. Not just physically different but entirely different. Disability seemed to change the soul, harden the exterior, and change the interior into a deep pool of clear water. One could get lost in that water. A fountain of understanding of all things, sprang fourth from that pool and Severus didn't understand how anyone couldn't see it. Still this girl was even different from her disabled peers. There was much he didn't know about her, much he had yet to learn.

He pressed his thumbs across his brow in an attempt to push back the headache that was growing there. Then, resolved that there would not be success, he lowered his hands, smoothed the longer of the two parchments and began to read.

***

"He could have just told us to drop our essays by," Harry said quietly as we walked down the hall on the way to our common room.

"Maybe he had something else planned and he changed his mind."

"Yeah, like more torture? Maybe he was planning on slamming us into a wall this time. I still have a bruise from the last time. Look!"

"I can't see it," I reminded him. "Besides, your being irrational. Professor Snape has no good reason to harm us."

"I'm sorry I forgot that you couldn't-"

Harry tried to cut in but I had no plans of letting the subject of Professor Snape go.

"This school is so divided over house loyalty. It's just plain stupid. Furthermore, do you think Dumbledore would really keep Snape around for all these years if he had caused problems and if he wasn't trust worthy?"

I paused to take a breath.

"Well, all of the defense professors since I've been here only lasted a year before something happened with each," Harry suggested.

"Snape has been here longer then a year!" I screeched.

"ssssshhhhh," Harry said softly. "The whole school will hear you. Besides, my point was that we can't necessarily rely on Dumbledore's judgement."

"So what if they have only stayed a year. I'm tired of the whole thing. Tired of Slytherin getting a bad wrap just for a few jerks, tired of everyone hating Snape, that sure doesn't help cheer him up you know."

"I don't want to argue," Harry finally said.

"Fine with me."

I walked forward briskly, my cane tapping out a faster rhythm. Luckily Harry hadn't tried to keep pace with me. He was getting on my nerves always whining or complaining. He hated Snape and the Slytherins just for being born and breathing. My parents had taught me better than that and I was being sucked into a trap, learning to act just like my friends did. I didn't like the person I was becoming. Something had to change. Harry would have to learn to accept the opinion of another and just let his feelings go enough so that he wouldn't argue constantly. I hoped I had gotten my point across.

***

By the next morning neither myself nor Harry was still angry. We ate in near silence though. Ron and Hermione chatted animatedly with Seamus, Ginny, and Neville, but Harry and I had already become somewhat withdrawn. Our lives had changed considerably after joining the Order even though it hadn't been for long.

"What's wrong there mate?" Ron finally asked Harry.

"Nothing, just thinking."

"You thinking extensively, since when?" Hermione teased.

"Come on, Hermione. I don't wanna talk about it."

"Suit yourself then, Harry," she said rising from the table.

I followed. I was glad she wasn't going to quiz us both for hours on what was on our minds. Ron and Harry rose and followed as well.

We reached the Transfiguration classroom early and took seats in the front row. Professor McGonagall was already grading papers, or something, at her desk in the front of the room.

"Is it your um..." Ron paused, "well you know...detention with Snape that's bothering you, Harry?"

Before Harry could reply Professor McGonagall said, "Mr. Potter, please tell me that you haven't had detention with Professor Snape again?"

Harry stammered, "Well uh, he had to bring some Order to things."

I thought it a very good answer. There seemed to be other students in the class as I could hear the rustle of robes to my right and every now and then a page turning which was not coming from McGonagall's desk. I wonder what foolish soul had left the reading for the last minute to be done in the classroom right under the professor's nose? Perhaps she would think the student, or students, were merely revising before the class.

"I see," she said in response. "And Mr. Weasley, it is Professor Snape, not simply Snape. I trust that in future you will give him the respect due a man of his standing."

"yes, mam," Ron replied quietly.

We remained quiet as students filed into the classroom and took their seats. Clearly it was unwise to discuss anything in front of McGonagall. She was nothing but a meddlesome old lady, I thought as I prepared to take notes. As I considered it, Snape was the one Hogwarts' professor who was least likely to get on my nerves.

"I assume that everyone is ready for class to begin," she said. Without waiting for an answer she continued, "Today we will be turning tea cups into rabbits."

Hermione leaned forward in her seat and I could hear her suck in a breath. I could care less about tea cup transformation. It would be much more useful to turn a rabbit into a tea cup because one might want a bit of tea while out in the wilderness. I supposed we couldn't risk the well being of the rabbit though. Still, what use was magic if it wasn't practical?

"Please turn to page thirty-six in your text books. The diagrams found there should help you consider the process of visualization you will consider while transforming the cup."

That was all fine and well if you could see the text book in the first place. Since I had already read the assigned chapter, and found no useful descriptions of the diagram, I didn't even bother to open my book. I leaned back in my chair and took on my "I don't care," face.

Professor McGonagall continued, "I would like you to work in pairs. That way you can help one another determine what may be going wrong with your transfigurations. Please refer to the book and attempt to determine at what stage the process went amiss." She returned to the front of the classroom and must have set her book down on her desk. "Please retrieve a tea cup and get started. I will move about the room so as to check your progress."

She had been teaching too long. I could easily tell that she had repeated the same lecture year after year and she had probably assigned the same book for several years. A dull book it was, and even Hermione had noted that it was out dated as there were more comprehensive and modern tomes in the Hogwarts' library.

I partnered Hermione and she set to work. On her first try she achieved a rabbit even though it was ceramic. I only accomplished a firry tea cup but I trudged on.