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OOOOO

A Professor and A Friend

OOOOO

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Stuffy noses sucked. They made it hard to breathe, and then there was the whole 'not noticing your nose is running' thing. At least I could get it solved in a matter of minutes thanks to magic. It didn't make it any more pleasant though. Sniffling, I cursed Peeves and hoped that he'd be exorcised before setting off to find Madam Pomfrey— all in my head of course. I knew for a fact that he could turn invisible if he wanted to. There's no way I'd risk a peaceful school life even if I hated the bastard.

On my walk to the Hospital Wing, I realised that there was no point in memorising the routes to places in the castle. It seemed the castle took joy in leading me on a wild goose chase— either that or I was an idiot.

Like this morning, for instance. Instead of finding myself in front of the winding staircase leading up to the Hospital Wing, I was on the other side of the castle. Which made absolutely no sense since the map of the castle in the common room told me that the Hospital Wing was on the west side of the second floor, but it didn't matter.

I ended up where I wanted to be… eventually.

"Fucking magic castle…" I grumbled, adjusting the scarf around my neck.

All things considered, it wasn't all that surprising that I had a cold. Madam Pomfrey could probably fix me some kind of potion to help but either way, it wasn't all too bad. A slight headache and regular cold symptoms aside, I felt alright.

Just as I cleared the staircase I spotted a familiar brown-haired boy on his way out of the Hospital Wing.

"Hello Remus." I stopped and smiled at him.

He jumped, placing a hand on his chest. "O-Oh, hi Cyrus."

"What's wrong?"

He smiled nervously. "W-What do you mean?"

"We're in the Hospital Wing." I said.

He blinked before nodding in understanding. "I've just been feeling a little lightheaded, is all."

"Have you seen Madam Pomfrey?" I stepped into the room.

"She stepped out to go and get something, I think." he replied. "She said that she'd be back in a little bit though."

I nodded. "See you later in Transfiguration, I think?" I yawned as I rubbed my eyes.

"Y-Yeah we have Transfiguration and Charms together." he said.

He fingered the collar of his shirt, his eyes darting around the room. It wouldn't take a genius to realise he wasn't all too happy right now. And whilst it wasn't really any of my business, I felt some pity for him.

"Oi," I said, breaking him out of his thoughts. "You okay?"

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. "... Yeah, I'm fine. I should probably head down to breakfast."

He started to walk off.

"Remus." he stopped. "If you don't feel like being around people right now, head down to the kitchens. It's near the Great Hall. Just take the stairs heading down— where you usually see us Hufflepuffs going at the end of dinner. There'll be a painting of a fruit bowl. Tickle the pear and you should be allowed through. The House Elves would be happy to give you food, trust me."

He blinked. "Wait, are we even allowed into the kitchens?"

"There aren't any rules against it, as far as I'm aware. My common room is opposite the kitchens, so I pop in there for a snack sometimes. Oh! That reminds me. Can you ask Dippy to set aside some pastries for me? I probably won't make it to the Great Hall so I'll come down to the kitchens too. He's got grey eyes and some of his left ear isn't there."

He nodded. "Cyrus?"

"What is it?"

The boy smiled at me. "Thank you."

I couldn't help but be reminded of my little brother when he smiled and quickly looked away.

"Anytime." I replied, walking into the Hospital Wing.

I spotted the Matron placing some filled vials into a cupboard, though she stopped once she noticed me.

"Hello there young man. I'm Madam Pomfrey." she smiled. "What can I help you with?"

"Hello Madam Pomfrey. I'm Cyrus Azar." I said, returning the smile enthusiastically. "Peeves dumped some cold water on me yesterday, and now I've a cold. Do you have anything that can help with that?"

"That damned poltergeist. He's been here since I was your age and probably before then too." she rummaged through the cupboard to her left. "Not even Dumbledore can do much about him— or so it's said. Personally, I think he enjoys the chaos Peeves brings."

I found myself agreeing with her. Someone as powerful as Dumbledore could probably get rid of Peeves quite easily, but here we are and he's still around bothering people.

"Here's some Pepperup. You'll be fine after drinking it." she slid me a vial holding vibrant red liquid. "I'll have you sit here for about ten minutes until the steam stops."

I eyed the vial warily but eventually uncorked the vial with a shrug and knocked it back. Big mistake. My throat burned as I swallowed it, gagging at the taste. The effects were immediate. Warmth spread out from my stomach and all over my body. At first it was pleasant, but it slowly grew hotter, forcing me to strip off my scarf and outer robes.

Even then, it felt as if I was sitting next to a furnace.

"Oh…" I plopped down on the bed and blinked owlishly at the woman, steam rushing out of my ears. "This is weird."

She chuckled. "The steaming will stop in a couple of minutes. You'll be free to go afterwards."

I lifted my jumper and shirt, grimacing. "That's not the only thing." the woman stopped to look at me, gasping at the sight of my back.

"Who did this?" she said. I couldn't see her face, but I could tell she was beyond pissed from her voice alone.

Question was, was I prepared to name and shame Bellatrix? There was a pretty significant chance that she'd make it her life's mission to fuck me over if I did.

"It doesn't matter." I said, and as much as it pissed me off, there wasn't much I could do against Bellatrix right now.

She sighed at that. "If you don't tell me anything, I can't help you, Cyrus."

I chewed on my lip. If I told her, sure she'd help me, but then I'd have a pissed off Bellatrix to watch out for. Snitches get stitches and all that.

"It's alright, I promise." I said woodenly.

Madam Pomfrey was silent for a moment. "... I see. Is there anything else I can do to help you?"

"Outside of helping with these welts? I don't think so." I sighed. "Thanks for the offer."

She ordered me to remove my shirt and worked in silence, slathering my back in a foul smelling, slimy ointment. I lay on the bed whilst waiting for my skin to absorb the salve. By the time it did, all the pain was gone, and I assumed the welts had been healed.

"Alright." she said as I slipped my shirt back on. "I'm done."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

She screwed the lid onto the ointment and smiled— though it seemed strained. "Not a problem, Cyrus. This is what I'm paid to do after all. I'm only sorry that I can't do much else to help you."

I grinned. "No worries. If I get banged up, I know who to come to now."

She shook her head and sent me off to breakfast.

OOOO

Remus Lupin

He stared at the countless eyes boring into him wordlessly. It wasn't that he was afraid, but the creatures' stares were unnerving. The elves hadn't stopped cooking at all, they merely worked in silence now, pausing every once in a while to glance at him from above the bubbling pots.

Remus broke the silence first. "H-Hello there." his voice cracked and the young werewolf smothered his embarrassment.

A bearded, older-looking elf walked over towards him. A slightly off-centre ragged chef's hat sat atop his head. "What can old Codger do for you, little wolf-wizard?"

Remus' heart leapt up to his mouth. "W-Why do you call me 'wolf-wizard'?"

The elderly elf stared at him blankly. "Are you not both wolf and wizard?" Codger asked before he wordlessly hobbled back to the giant pot at the back of the room.

His eyes followed Codger as he made his way to the pot. Remus started to hurry after him but another elf swiftly caught up to him and tugged on his robes, stopping him from going any further. "What is Dippy be helping you with, little wolfie?"

Ignoring the way the elves seemed to address him, his eyebrows rose in recognition as the elf introduced himself. "You're Dippy?"

It nodded, flapping its rather large ears. Though as Cyrus had described, a part of his left ear really did look like it had been chewed off. "Yes."

"Um, Cyrus told me about you and asked if you could set aside some breakfast for him."

Upon hearing his friend's name—at least Remus thought they were friends—the elf's face brightened. "Cyrus?! Dippy is doing it now!"

Dippy seemed poised to rush away before turning back to him, his grey eyes widening. "Is little wolfie wanting breakfast too?"

Remus sighed, realising he couldn't stop the elves from referring to his curse without hurting their feelings. The little he'd read about them during the holidays told him that much.

"Yes, Dippy," he smiled. "I'd like some breakfast."

The elf squealed in delight and dragged him by the leg to a low table in the centre of the room. "Just be waiting. Dippy will bring breakfast soon."

He could only nod in the face of such enthusiasm. A few minutes later, an array of pastries had been laid out before him— far more than he'd expected. There were croissants, pain au chocolat, bridies, bowls of fruit and jugs of water and orange juice.

He thanked the eager elf to which he replied, "No, no, thank you, little wolfie. Dippy is not leaving kitchens often and Cyrus visits Dippy every day. Dippy is grateful that you is doing the same today."

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

The painting swung open, a soft breeze caressing the back of Remus' robes. He turned around curiously.

"Cyrus!" the elf cried, rushing forwards and wrapping itself around the boy's leg.

"Hello Dippy." Cyrus smiled. "How're you doing today?"

The elf glowed at the question. "Dippy is doing very well, thank you very much." he backed away and dragged him towards Remus. "Look, Dippy be feeding your friend, little wolfie."

His heart leapt up to his throat.

Cyrus laughed. "'Little Wolfie', huh?"

Remus bit into a croissant and tried his best to not look the least bit rattled. But it was a hard thing to do when his entire life could fall apart at any given moment. Thankfully, Cyrus didn't comment on the odd nickname, both confusing and calming him.

Honestly, Remus didn't really know what to make of him. He was nice— awfully so, and he always seemed to smile. But he was weird too. He didn't feel like all the other people in his year. From the way he spoke, to how he was. It was more like talking to his dad or a professor than someone his age.

"What've you got here today?" Cyrus asked.

"There is lots of pastries." the elf explained, crossing his arms over his concave chest. His voice quietened and his leathery ears folded against his head. "But if you is not wanting them, Dippy will go and make something else…"

"No, it's fine, Dippy." Cyrus smiled. "I think I'd love to have some pastries, right Remus?"

The young werewolf quickly broke himself free of his thoughts and nodded. "Yes. These taste amazing, Dippy."

His grey orbs swam with tears and the elf's bottom lip began to quiver. "R-Really? You is telling the truth?"

Remus nodded.

"Your food is amazing, Dippy, honestly." Cyrus added, reaching over to pick up one. "Do you want to eat one too?"

Dippy tentatively stretched out his hand, taking the pastry from the other boy. He bit into it and nodded. "They is tasting good." he looked between the both of them and smiled. "Dippy hopes you is enjoying the food."

He watched the elf race back towards one of the pots before turning to Cyrus. "Why were you in the Hospital Wing anyways?"

The boy snorted lightly, sipping from his goblet. "I had a cold because of Peeves."

"What did he do?" Remus asked curiously.

"I was on the stairs yesterday and he dumped a bucket of freezing water on me." Cyrus admitted. "I was shivering for hours before I could get somebody to dry me."

Remus winced. "Yeah, Peeves is horrible. The other day I watched him pelt a few Gryffindors with wet tissue because they were late to one of their classes. I hope somebody exorcises him."

Cyrus smiled and raised his goblet. "I'll drink to that."

Remus eyed him. "What do you mean?"

He shook his head with a smile. "Nevermind. You're too young."

Remus didn't understand what he meant by that considering they were the same age but he cast the thought aside in favour of eating some more pastries. Soon, they'd finished their breakfast and thanked Dippy one last time before heading towards their respective lessons.

They travelled up the stairs to the entrance hall and Cyrus turned back to him. "What do you have now, anyways?"

"Herbology with Slytherin." he hung his head and sighed.

Cyrus hissed. "I don't envy you, that's for sure." he said. "I've got Potions with Gryffindor, which isn't too bad."

Remus sighed. "At least Professor Sprout is nice. But I really don't like some of the Slytherins. Snape doesn't seem to be too bad though."

Cyrus blinked owlishly. "... Is that so?"

Remus nodded and stepped out onto the Great Hall. "I'm going to join the rest of my house but Cyrus?"

"What is it?"

"Thank you."

A grin stretched itself across the Hufflepuff's face. "No worries. I'd say we're friends, right?"

Remus blinked, not expecting the blunt statement.

"... I guess we are." he murmured before nodding. "Yes. We're friends."

Cyrus wandered off to the Hufflepuff table leaving the brown-haired boy alone to stew over his thoughts.

"Friends, huh?" he muttered, taking a seat on the Ravenclaw table.

"What's wrong, Lupin?" asked one of the Ravenclaw prefects: Esmeralda Goshawk.

Remus looked up and smiled. "Nothing. But Esmeralda?"

"Yes?"

"I think I've made a friend."

She stared at him before smiling. "Is that so?" she bumped his shoulder with her own. "Well, I'm happy for you."

Remus ducked his head a little lower, hiding his embarrassed flush from view, or so he hoped. Hogwarts seemed to be everything that he'd dreamt of… and more.

OOOO

Cyrus Azar

"Damned Walrus!" Cadmus growled, stomping his way to the front of the group.

With Potions over, we were dragging our hungry—and cold—arses from the Dungeons to the Great Hall. By now, most of my house had a general idea of where to go but it'd become some kind of habit for them to trail behind me.

"I mean he's not even trying to be subtle about it!" his face flushed thanks to his impassioned outburst. "It's always the ones with famous families or some insane talent. What about the rest of us, huh?! We can't all be like Pettigrew and Aberffraw!"

He muttered a few curses underneath his breath.

I snorted. "Well, you're not wrong." I sighed. "But trust me, it could have been far worse…"

Like Snape. Currently, he was a pretty alright kid. Respected dedication and creative thinking and all that from what I'd seen. But as an adult? He was a fucking piss-poor professor and an even shittier person.

"How?" Cadmus asked.

"Trust me," I shook my head. "You could do far worse than Slughorn. Sure he likes to build connections with promising students, but at least he won't give up on us. He makes sure to teach us all properly, regardless of family background and aptitude. What if he completely disregarded everybody outside of the talented and wealthy?"

Cadmus frowned. Deep down, he knew I was right, but from what I'd seen of him, he was way too prideful to admit it.

"Whatever." he grumbled, continuing to stomp up the stairs.

I ruffled my hair and snorted. Kids man. Sometimes they were super mature and other times they acted completely contrary to that.

"Don't worry about Cadmus." a tall brown-haired boy drawled, brushing his brown locks out of his eyes— I think his name was Michael or something. "He can never admit when he's wrong."

Ellie, a short mousy haired girl, nodded her head furiously. "We've known each other since we were seven. He's always like that. But he's a good person."

"Yeah, I figured." I agreed. "Let's keep going."

We entered the hall and there were already quite a few people seated. I led my year over to the Hufflepuff table, but not before meeting the eyes of Bellatrix. Since the Slytherin table was across from my own, I ended up looking straight at her.

Her lips parted and she gave me a small, self-satisfied smile. A smile that made my blood boil. Though if I let any of my emotions show on my face, I knew I'd be giving her a reason… No, an excuse to come after me. But if she really felt like it, I knew she'd come after me anyways so I stared back defiantly.

The little I'd seen of her told me that she was just that sadistic. It didn't matter that I was eleven and she was seventeen, bordering on eighteen. She did what she did because she could. And there was nobody around to stop her— not really anyways.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, bringing my focus back to the table as I did so.

"Merlin, Cyrus." Viola laughed from a few seats away from us first-years. "At this point, I should give you my badge and be done with it. You're pretty much doing my job for me."

I smiled at her. "I mean from the first day onwards, these lot have pretty much been following me around the castle. I don't mind it too much anyways. They make for great conversation."

I ignored the indignant squawk from Cadmus and a few other Hufflepuffs.

"What do you all have next then?" she asked.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts." Ellie answered. She immediately shied away from all the eyes on her though.

Viola mistook it for nerves. "Don't worry about Professor Brezova— I just had her." she said. "She's fair, but she's also stern when she needs to be. So long as you listen to her instructions, there's no reason to be nervous about anything."

"Besides," I spoke up. "What's the worst that could happen, right?"

I had no idea how much I'd regret those words when it was all said and done with.

OOOO

Brezova began the lesson by cycling through the class register. Her eyes scanned the class as she made a mental note of every student's face.

"Eleanor Allanach?"

"H-Here Professor."

"Thomas Avery?"

"Here."

"Cyrus Azar?"

"Here Professor."

She cycled through quite a few more names before approaching the last few people on the register.

"Cadmus McCallan?"

"Afternoon Professor!"

"Michael McConnell?"

"Here Professor."

"Arthur Mulciber?

"Over here Professor."

"And lastly, Severus Snape?"

"Present."

She rolled up the parchment and set it aside with a flick of her wand. Another smooth arc and the drapes were shut, casting the room into sudden darkness. The candles mounted along the walls lit up one by one until we could see around us once more. A few stray beams of light poked through the gaps in the curtains but now that there was some light, they weren't as noticeable.

"The Dark Arts…" Brezova said, her voice low— slightly accented but her English was flawless. She was loud enough to be heard by me and I sat at the very back of the classroom. "I can't claim to be an expert in teaching but what I can tell you with certainty is that I have seen spells so abominable that they are scarcely mentioned anywhere. Be that textbooks, or obscure covens and tribes across the world. Spells that have but only one directive: to destroy in the most wicked and cruellest ways possible. But what are the Dark Arts? Can anyone tell me?"

I raised my hand.

"Yes Azar?"

"The Ministry defines the Dark Arts as any spell cast with the intent to maim, injure, or kill another living being." her face remained impassive at my answer but I wasn't done. "But, I have a definition of my own."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Oh really? What's this definition of yours then?"

"The Dark Arts are spells that are created by those who worship power and nothing else. All else is abandoned in the pursuit of power: family, friends, morality, it doesn't matter. Everything that gets in the way of that is systematically dismantled in ways so brutal that it would give people nightmares for days on end."

Brezova whistled. "Spot on. Ten points to Hufflepuff. As Azar said, the Dark Arts are spells that are made with one goal in mind: power. But make no mistake, never should it be revered. The power that one gains from the Dark Arts will never be worth what was sacrificed to get there. Yes, Mulciber?"

"But, professor," he said, and without having to see him, I could already hear the cocky smirk in his voice. "In the end, isn't power, power? If you have power, then you can do anything, right?"

It took me a while to register what Mulciber had actually said, but when it finally hit me, I screwed my eyes shut in frustration. I knew the Slytherins of the Marauders Era were fanatics, but this was really pushing the boundary.

"Is that what you think?" Brezova asked, her voice no more than a whisper. It was cold, and instantly forced me to sit up. "That studying the Dark Arts is a viable pursuit to power? That is what you said, correct?"

"... Yes." he said, sounding a lot less sure of himself.

"Tell me, Mulciber, if you were told to sacrifice a newborn child in order to strengthen your ability to channel magic, would you do so?"

"N-No Professor."

"Would you rape innumerable women for a chance at power?"

"N-No Professor?"

"Would you murder wantonly and toy with the lives of others?"

"N-No Professor."

"Then answer this for me once more." Brezova said. "Do you still believe that power born from atrocities such as that will be worth it in the end?"

The class was silent until his trembling voice spoke up again, giving Brezova the same answer as before: "N-No Professor."

She stared at him for a moment longer before moving on. "Those who practise the Dark Arts are called Dark Wizards— and the strongest amongst them Dark Lords and Dark Ladies. I am not here to teach you the intricacies of the Dark Arts. But I'm merely showing you the reality of life outside of the castle walls. Whilst you are here, you are all safe. Now some of you may go through your lives without seeing any conflict, but for others, there is a very real possibility of it in your immediate futures."

There was a tense silence at her words.

Her voice softened a fraction. "Nonetheless, this is what I'm here for. Now, please turn to page seven of 'The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection' and place your wands on the table."

The little hiccup from Mulciber aside, the lesson passed by pretty smoothly. After the introduction, Brezova had done a one-eighty and started on Imps.

"Now, Imps aren't that dangerous at all. They are easily dispatched by a properly cast Knockback Jinx." her wand was trained on a straw dummy that had been wheeled into class minutes earlier. "Like so: Flipendo."

The dummy was sent hurtling backwards until it smacked against the wall and clattered to the ground.

"This charm will be covered both by myself—next lesson—and by Professor Flitwick. In fact, you will often find that there is some overlap with what you are learning in both Charms and Transfiguration. Does anyone want to hazard a guess as to why?"

Surprisingly, Snape was the one to answer this one.

"Yes Snape?"

"Defence Against the Dark Arts is essentially Charms and Transfiguration applied in a situational and often combat related context." his voice was silkily smooth, even at the age of eleven.

"Correct. Five points to Slytherin."

A dark haired boy sitting beside him gave him a good-natured clap to the back and Snape smiled. Despite having only been around him for a couple of lessons now, I couldn't help but be surprised by how… childlike he was. I'd expected him to be at least a little contemptuous but instead, he was mostly calm outside of studying— something he took more seriously than life itself. Other than that, he left others to their own devices and expected them to do the same.

"Now, does anyone want to volunteer?"

I immediately raised my arm. Partly because I needed the recognition from my year group, but also because I'd been practising a few charms in my spare time.

Brezova waved me over. "Come on up then, Azar."

I waltzed between the desks, feeling the class' curious eyes follow me all the way to the front of the room— Snape's in particular. Once I arrived, I squared up a little ways in front of the downed straw man. A small flick of Brezova's wand and the dummy was lifted off the ground.

"Okay, the spell is pronounced: fli-PEN-do. Make sure to stress the second syllable, alright?" Brezova instructed, an encouraging hand placed on my shoulder. She lightly grasped my wrist and guided my hand in the proper wand movement. "You ready?"

I nodded, my jaw set, firmly picturing the desired effect of the spell in my mind. Then, I cast. "Flipendo!"

A burst of white light and the next thing I knew, the dummy smashed against the wall with a sharp crack. I smiled, noticing that there was splintered wood where its arms should be. A little too forceful, perhaps, but I mostly had the spell down.

Turning back, I swiftly sheathed my wand and smiled. "I did it, Professor."

She eyed my holster appreciatively— or at least I thought she did. "Evidently so." she said. "Perhaps next time, try not to maim the demonstration dummy?"

I felt an embarrassed flush crawl over my cheeks but remained calm. "My bad."

"Not a problem, Azar. Another ten points to Hufflepuff. Now, back to your seat." she trailed her wand through the air and I swore I heard her mutter something.

The dislodged pieces of wood shot back onto the arm and soon afterwards, it was as if I'd never broken the dummy in the first place. The Repairing Charm sure was nifty, huh?

I took my seat once more and gathered my notes for the lesson. Defence Against the Dark Arts was mainly a practical class. There wasn't much I could do to study ahead other than note down some facts on magical creatures but I relished in the opportunity. So far, the class was interesting and the professor competent.

"Merlin," I grumbled. "How does anyone learn anything if they change professors every year…"

"Did you say something, Azar?" Cadmus asked, turning back to me.

"No, nothing Cadmus. Nothing at all…"

He blinked, but slowly turned back to watch the next person step up to try out the Knockback Jinx on the newly repaired dummy.