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Quirrel stands at the front of his desk, facing us, a confident lazy expression on his face. I forcibly calm myself. I can't freak out now. Freak later!

"My name is Quirinus Quirrell, I will be your instructor in this class." He pauses, hands behind his back as he looks over us all. "Defense against the Dark Arts, is somewhat of a misnomer. Can anyone tell me why?"

The class is silent, eventually I raise my hand. Quirrell quirks his eyebrow, pondering, "Ah, Mister Greenwood, our history expert." He drawls, mirthlessly. "Do enlighten us."

"It's a misnomer because defense will also teach us how to defend from beasts and other threats that do not necessarily have anything to do with the dark arts." I say, hesitantly, realizing Quirrell knew who I was. I soldiered on, determined to not let the man know how unnerved I was right now, "In fact, the majority of the subject is not actually about defending against dark arts at all."

"Simple, but essentially correct." Quirrell says, thin lips drawn into a smirk. "Take five points for Hufflepuff."

He draws his wand and without a noise or sign of effort, his desk explodes into thousands of wooden shards that fly to impale him, and us. With another wordless gesture a shield protects us all, as the students around me shriek in shock and fear. I stare at a jagged piece of wood that had bounced off 3 inches ahead of me, poised to take me right in the eye, my gut clenches.

Quirrell quirks his eyebrows in obvious amusement. Another wave of his wand silently repairs his desk. "Something as simple as an object being thrown your way, a lightning strike shattering a tree and showering you in shards, or a common muggle attacking you. Defense, is and always will be, the one subject that will always be needed and always useful to you, for the rest of your lives."

We all sit in silence, some of my fellow Puffs still breathing heavy from the sudden shock explosion. This was nothing like any of us would have imagined this class to start like.

"The likelihood you'll encounter the dark arts is minimal," He continues with a dark look on his face. "The ministry has all but eradicated such practitioners." He purses his thin lips, "No… What you will learn from me, is the mindset behind defending yourself."

One of the Ravenclaw boys raises his hand tentatively.

Quirrell eyes him darkly, "I wager you're about to ask me about the spells covered in your textbook, Mister Boot?" He drawls condescendingly.

Boot lowers his hand, gaping. "Y-yes sir!"

Quirrell picks up Susan's copy of the textbook. "I will not be teaching this. It will be up to you, yourselves to practice the spells in this book to proficiency." He slams the book down, making Susan jump slightly. "I will be teaching you how and when to use them."

He points his wand against the blackboard and dates are scrawled onto it, a spell corresponding to the end of the week of each one. "Anyone that shows up to my class and is not capable of the spell for that week, will serve detention until they are caught up." His thin malicious smirk widens at the exclaims of dismay from some of the students.

"A-aren't Y-you supposed to te-teach us?" One of the Hufflepuffs who's name I hadn't learnt yet stutters.

"Anyone that can not learn the spells in this book is not worth my time to instruct." Quirrell says dismissively. "I will be teaching you useful things, including some spells that might save your life one day." He scoffs, "Those of you capable, anyway."

"Are you capable of thought? Of intelligence?" He drawls, pacing in front of us. "Of adaptation, of strength of will. Of sacrifice?" He stops in front of my desk, "Why? Mister Greenwood, are you not writing down the dates on the board yet? Do they not teach muggles how to write?"

I gape at him in surprise, why the fuck is he singling me out? I grab my supplies to start writing down the information. Biting my lip to keep from saying anything that will get me into trouble.

"No matter, I expected this kind of sluggishness from first year students, barely able to fight off a light breeze, a muggle could take you out without much effort." Quirrell taps his wand on my desk, the shocked gasps of my fellow students telling me they also had a sheet with all the dates and spells on them appear on their desks. Did he disillusion them and just reveal them, or did he just conjure them? I wonder.

Quirrell turns back to his desk, striding over gracefully. Before sliding into his chair, looking at us over steepled pale fingers. "For your first lesson. Write down all the dangers a muggle could pose to a young witch or wizard that you can think of. We will discuss how utterly wrong you are and how much worse it can get after you turn your parchments in. You have fifteen minutes."

What the hell is going on? Where is the stutter? The smell of garlic? The pathetic lessons with a seemingly weak willed moron? I think furiously as I begin to write. I don't dare to play dumb, he'd call me out on it, and I unfortunately know many ways a muggle can hurt a wizarding child. Does Dumbledore know Quirrell is pulling this shit? Does he care? He never did anything about the stuttering Quirrell. I was at a loss. Did this Quirrell not become Voldemort's servant? Then why the muggle fixation? He used to be the damn muggle studies teacher. What's his play here?

As soon as the fifteen minutes are up, our parchments fly over to Quirrell's desk, the professor tapping the pile with his wand. Red ominous light shining through the stack as red burning words slowly peel away from the parchments and fly up on the blackboard. I warily note that a majority of the ways a muggle could hurt someone up there seem to be in my handwriting. The other children barely contributed.

Quirrell smirks, "Ah…" He exclaims softly, so quiet we can barely hear him, "Of course Mister Greenwood would be an expert in how dangerous muggles are."

Eyes in the class turn to me as I stare ahead stone faced, that's how this is going to be, damn. This was not going to be a fun class.

"Tell the class, Mister Greenwood…" Quirrell walks over to me, the only sound other than his sibilant voice, the quiet steps of his feet. "If the muggles were to drop an atomic weapon on Hogwarts, what would happen?"

I squirm in my seat. "Well, I don't rightly know, sir. I have no idea what protections Hogwarts has against a bomb." I say evasively. Not meeting his eyes.

"The wizarding world has no protection other than to hide, from the likes of a muggle weapon of such magnitude." Quirrell says thinly. "Don't be shy, Mister Greenwood, you have had no compunction about expressing your opinion before."

The Merlin damned article…. Is that why he's picking on me? Or is being muggleborn enough? I think, shoulders sagging as I realize that there's no way this ends in any other way than Quirrell getting his way.

"If they were - which they won't - Then Hogwarts and all of the people in it would die." I say with grit teeth.

"It seems Mister Greenwood is not too knowledgeable despite his unfortunate…Heritage…" Quirrell drawls, stepping away from my desk, facing the rest of the uncomfortable students. "He forgot to mention that the muggles already eradicated two whole cities of their own people this way!" Quirrell cold thin lips twitch as the purebloods of the class and most half-bloods gasp in shock. "He also forgot to mention that the muggles ensured this weapon would sicken the land for generations, ensuring Hogwarts could not be rebuilt, if they turned their murderous eyes here."

"It begs the question… Are you a wizard? Or a muggle? Mister Greenwood?" Quirrell purrs.

"I'm a wizard!" I grit out, nails digging into my palms. This is so much worse than anything I imagined for this class.

Quirrell smiles mysteriously, "Perhaps, you did indeed manage to fill out most threats a muggle could pose." His wand snaps out and several words are highlighted. "This in part will be what your classes for the year will be on. How to defend yourself. Not only from another wand or a minor beast. But from the abhorrent practices of a larger beast - the muggle."

He paces in front of the class, hands behind his back. "What not many in the wizarding world knows is that muggles, in their greed and cruelty, have slowly been poisoning the planet." He nods as some shocked gasps ring out, "Yes…" He hisses, a dark look on his face, "Nature itself is striking back, paying no difference between muggle and wizard, natural disasters increasing and ruining our homes, our oceans are being befouled. Ruined. Our drinking water will eventually suffer the same fate if nothing is done. The muggle is ensuring the wizarding world will suffer. This is the threat most magicals will never realize that they face!"

I can see the shock and disagreement on my friends' faces, they know better, thank Merlin, then accepting this anti-muggle propaganda. Yet there are too many students in this room, listening avidly.

Quirrell's voice practically thrums with power as he continues lecturing. "Muggles have many diseases running through their kind, diluting their minds to beasts like none other, some even practice reprehensible acts like cannibalism, the muggles continuously murder each other at a prodigious rate, more muggles die each year to their own kind, then there are magical people in the world. Yet still they continue in their savage ways, never once stopping and considering something better."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. It's not, most of it, factually wrong really… From a certain point of view. But put in the worst light possible to shock and scare the magical world. Dumbledore can't possibly allow this?

"The worst is the muggles' preferences for children." Quirrell continues voice lower, darker. His gaze on me as the highlighted word becomes the only word on the blackboard.

"Their dark and evil propensity to rape their own children and others. This is done to thousands each year, other muggles standing by and allowing it. They even have support groups defending the practice."

"Stop!" I snap out. "Professor, you're twisting everything to the worst possible interpretation, and you're scaring my friends!" I hadn't planned to speak out. But the absolutely sickened and scared expressions coming over some of my friends' faces the further Quirrell goes on, I can't keep quiet any longer. Not if he was going to get worse then he already was. Merlin and Morgana what worse level is he going to go to?

I can hear sobs from somewhere in the back for Merlin's sake! "This isn't right!" I insist. Glaring at him defiantly. Part of me still insists I back down and is screaming; what are you doing you stupid Gryffindor!

Quirrell raises a sardonic eyebrow, "Defending your friends is admirable, Mister Greenwood, yet how you do so is also important." He taps his wand against his leg, "Disrespecting your betters is not a proper method. Detention. Saturday, at seven."

"You're wrong about muggles. They aren't all like that. Every society has bad apples." I insist. Not backing down. Finding some strength inside me to meet Quirrell's dark gaze.

He sighs, mockingly shaking his head, "I had some small measure of hope for you, but it seems you're hopelessly naive, after all. Do let go of your muggle ways soon, Mister Greenwood." He smiles, thin lipped, "We wouldn't want you to devolve into a beast, it would be such a shame…"

He ignores my seething form and turns back to the class. "Until the class is finished today, spend your time reading your first two chapters of the textbook, I expect at least ten inches on what spells would be best suited to defend against a muggle by next class. And don't forget to practice your spells by the due dates."

He calmly sits back down at his desk, peering at us with that smug thin smirk on his face. The entire class slowly opens their textbooks and starts on their assignment. Neville and Hannah, as the two sitting closest next to me, give me worried looks as I simply stare down at my desk.

This is worse than canon. I don't know if he is a Voldemort puppet or not, but as a teacher at Hogwarts, a lot of students are going to believe this shit! I think furiously. Wondering if going to Dumbledore would do anything. Surely he's aware of what's going on? What if he's allowing it? I think with dread pooling in my stomach.

When the class is over, I am the first out the door, speeding past a surprised prefect waiting to take us to the next class. I wait a hallway down, taking deep slow breaths. Gathering myself again. I hadn't expected that.

"Lucas, are you okay?" Susan says timidly. Hannah and Neville behind her, eying me worriedly.

They've run off after me, I'm such a bad influence. I close my eyes as I lean my head against the cool stone wall. "I just wasn't expecting it. I knew being a muggleborn would be…Difficult." I breathe out quietly. I chuckle weakly, "From a professor..."

"He's wrong. And he was cruel about it too!" Susan says firmly, her bottom lip a bit wobbly.

"We all know he wasn't really telling the truth." Neville says quietly, "I don't even know much about muggles, and I could tell."

"If he's telling every class the same thing… How many won't know better." I whisper, head still leaning against the wall. And I had detention with him. This new scarier Quirrell.

"He'll get into trouble with the Headmaster for this." Hannah nods, but she looks unsure.

"Hey, Greenwood. Show me your hands." Amelia Hecat comes striding down the hallway, a trail of Puffs following behind her. I glance at her from the corner of my eye. Frowning.

"I've been told what happened in class. I will be telling Professor Sprout about that man, the nerve!" She huffs, she looks me over, "Finch-Fletchley told me he noticed you were bleeding. Show me your hands."

I notice for the first time that my fists are still clenched hard, I unclench them, my friends gasping as I show bloody palms, where my nails had ripped into them. No wonder Justin paid attention, he would have, just as me, been incensed with Quirrell's words. I wince, Merlin, how will Hermione and Harry take that lesson?

"Merlin, Greenwood, you should have come to me instead of running off." Amelia scolds, but gently, as she looks at me with concern. Her wand quickly runs over my wounds sealing them up. "There, all better, do you think you're up for Herbology, Greenwood? Sprout would understand if you need a breather in the common room instead."

I shake my head, I'm definitely not missing a class. "I'm fine, just... Shocked. I think."

Amelia nods, sighing. "Anyone would be, tell me immediately if you need a break though, okay?" Seeing my stubborn look she turns to my friends. "If he looks like he needs a break tell me or Derek, alright?"

Recovering three determined nods, she gets us all moving, heading out to the greenhouses. We still have some thirty minutes until our class. But with the size of Hogwarts it really isn't as quick as you would think to get around. We arrive with ten minutes to spare. Amelia stops us from heading inside, going in by herself. No doubt to speak with Professor Sprout.

The Gryffindors arrive minutes later, I barely pay them any notice.

When we're allowed inside, I immediately join Neville, I'd have to be stupid not to partner with someone that had an obvious skill and interest in the subject. I glance around, the greenhouse looks not that dissimilar from a muggle one. Only with more interesting plants. Sections of the greenhouse have the glass panels in the roof and walls in different colors to provide a different light, including some darker areas where the glass was pitch black and not letting light in at all.

There was a constant sense of being watched, plants hanging over us and around our work area, seemingly sheltering us, as if plants further in were watching us. It was fairly creepy. Only Neville and Hannah seemed at home, the other students periodically looking over their shoulders uneasily.

One of the Hufflepuff girls screamed, shaky hand pointing to her left, the whole class turning and looking at what appeared to be a large Venus flytrap like plant, the plant turning our way, the bud opening, revealing razor sharp teeth as it grins at us, a long tongue licking the edge of its bulb, where lips would be on a human mouth.

"None of that now." Professor Sprout says sternly, the plant shying back looking like a chastised puppy. Even managing to whine pitifully. She turns to us and smiles cheerfully. "Not to worry students, he just nibbles a little, he's never fully eaten a student."

I'm sure I'm not the only one who is kind of stuck on the fully, of that sentence. A lot of apprehensive faces looking back at the Herbology Professor.

"For those of you who don't know me, I am Professor Pomona Sprout, the head of Hufflepuff house and your teacher in the wonderful world of Herbology." As she talks, she walks away from the man eating plant which as soon as her back is turned turns to us students again and sticks its tongue out. "The subject is not only important for any future potion-makers or healers, it's vital for all wizards and witches." She continues, reaching the front of the class.

"Can anyone tell me why?" She asks, with a kind smile.

Neville and Hannah both have their hands up, so does another of the Hufflepuff girls and one of the Gryffindor boys, Rath I think his name is.

"Mr. Longbottom?" Sprout calls on Neville to answer.

Nevilles round cheeks are slightly pink at being the center of attention, but his eyes are practically sparking in excitement from being in this greenhouse, "Because we're all likely to encounter magical plant life during our lives, even if we don't keep a garden or wander a meadow or forest, wizarding homes tend to attract magical plant life and we would have to know what is safe and what is not, and how to handle it."

Professor Sprout claps her hands together, "I couldn't have said it better myself, Mr Longbottom, take five points for Hufflepuff."

Neville blushes brightly and I pat him on the shoulder, it's good to encourage him when he's doing well. I don't want to see the sad lonely kid make a comeback.

Professor Sprout speaks again and I turn to pay attention. "Herbology is one of the core subjects for a reason. No matter where you go in the world. If there is magic, you're likely to find some sort of plant life. Much of it if not dangerous, then at least unsafe, if improperly handled." She waves a hand towards the mass of plant life behind her. "This greenhouse is fairly safe, you won't see the other two until fourth year for one, and seventh year for the second." Her kind face turns serious, "It is that dangerous that you need to be at that level at minimum to enter. With a professor nearby." She gives us a stern look, "At no point are you ever to enter a greenhouse alone, or without me or another professor's presence. Magical flora is dangerous!" She hammers home.

As with Potions, the rest of the lesson turns into an extensive lecture on safety precautions, there are a lot of them. My decision to partner with Neville seems a wise one, even more than I had expected before. I had done it to ensure I could get a good grade in a subject I couldn't practice on my own in to get ahead. Now it seems I'd need his help to not get eaten, burned, dissolved, put in a magical coma for a month. Or any of the other numerous things this greenhouse could cause. I didn't even want to imagine what the seventh year one was capable of.

And again we were told to do ten inches of homework. Irregardless of the oddity of doing essays based on inches of parchment, ten inches wasn't that horrible. But when you started getting that and more from every class… No wonder students go a little nuts in later years. I imagine I'll have disturbingly little free time if every class starts ordering me to churn out twenty inch or longer homework assignments after every class.

Professor Sprout calls my name as the class all starts to head for the doors. Well… Once again everyone will be waiting due to me, I'm starting to notice a pattern here. Even Harry as the protagonist at least made it a couple days without trouble now and then. Not so much me so far. Worst of all it's all self-inflicted.

"Are you feeling alright, Mister Greenwood?" Professor Sprout asks, eyes filled with concern. "Miss Hecat told me about your…" She purses her lips angrily. "Lesson!"

I shrug, not sure what to say. What do you even say? Can I please have a non racist teacher? Hogwarts has enough problems finding teachers that aren't literally out to murder someone in the student population. Also technically he's not really saying anything that the Ministry or Wizengamot necessarily disagree with either. If anything he'd get a slap on the wrist for using slurs and that would be it.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"If things…Persist... Feel free to come to see me for a chat, I'm afraid I can't stop the man, although rest assured I will speak to the Headmaster about this!" Professor Sprout assures me seriously.

I thank her quietly and leave, not really sure why anyone bothered to tell her. Sprout basically told me she can be a shoulder to cry on when it happens again because she can't do shit about it, the uselessness of heads of houses still following canon I suppose. Whatever reason there is for it. She can't do anything, and her only avenue is to ask the Headmaster to step in. Which… When has he ever? He didn't even step in when his students were literally being tortured. There's no way, no painting, no house elf, no professor, that no one noticed, that not a single student reported it to a prefect or head of house. No, every muggleborn in the castle was going to have to spend the year hearing how much of a disease their families and neighbors were to the planet and to wizardkind.

I'm not sure what happened to canon but I really fucking want it back.

My friends all hover around me for the trek to dinner. Padma and Su join us at our table immediately upon spotting us. Drawing a smile out of me when tiny little Su goes on a rant about how professor Quirrell should be fired and has no business being a teacher.

I doubt he would be fired. Or even reined in. No one wanted the job, so it would take trying to murder a student to force Dumbledore or the board into action. As long as Quirrell only kept it to words, especially ones that he could point to being fact based. There would be no consequences. Also very likely… The contract for the defense position was probably pretty liberal on what the professor could and could not do, considering the dearth of applicants I doubted it was a very stringent contract on behavior. They couldn't lose a professor just because he went loony could they? He had to last the year, after all.

I had other things to worry about. It's only the first day and my wish to stay away from the plot is slowly crumbling away. Not as I thought would possibly eventually happen, because of bonds and the power of friendship like the hat wanted. Instead it's because the adults seem more competent than they had been in the books. And a more competent Quirrell, facing a Harry Potter that squeaked by within an inch of death every year. Could I really count on that? Would this Quirrell even be possessed? Because Harry didn't stand a chance against the wizard that I had seen in that classroom. Not without being able to burn him to death at a touch.

I couldn't go to Dumbledore. Even if he believed me… The man would wait until the last moment. Not wanting to sacrifice Harry if there was some other way. And if I told him everything. Would he be able to resist the ring? He hadn't been able to when he knew a war was on his doorstep and he would be leaving everyone defenseless. Now in peace, could he hold himself back? I wasn't sure. And I wasn't gambling with the entire wizarding world on a guess.

Also I didn't trust him. Not because I thought he was the fanon evil manipulator. No… Because he was willing to sacrifice as many innocents as he could as long as he got to keep his hands clean. Dumbledore had the power to eradicate every death eater he met on the field of battle. He could have easily wiped out known death eaters outside of it too, laws be damned, and then hailed for it in the aftermath. Instead he sat and watched as families were wiped out, muggles were tortured, raped and murdered. And he gathered a small band of hobbyists plus Moody to fight for him. Ensuring they'd die while he sat and sipped tea and showed Harry some funny memories. And then he couldn't even stay alive for the war to be the deterrent against Voldemort and completely left his followers to hang. He wasn't willing to sacrifice his own principles, and people died for it.

No, Dumbledore I could not trust. Because if it came down to me or a death eater spawn. I'm not sure he'd pick me. He was the powerful man who was so terrified of using it that he might as well be a muggle.

I took a sip of tea, thankful for the removal of the abomination drink from my immediate presence, even if the heathens around me continued to drink it for some reason, it couldn't be for the taste. Tea, now that is the good stuff. Tea always calms me. I would have to wait and see how things progress. It's only the first day. Canon might still be on the rails. Maybe I'm panicking over nothing. Perhaps Quirrell hasn't fully been possessed yet and turned into his pathetic self.

The other possibility was more chilling.

Perhaps Voldemort was in complete control and it hadn't been Quirrell giving me detention…

Well, there went my appetite.

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Right after dinner, I'm unceremoniously kidnapped by a grinning Tonks and a cool Ophelia. My friends hesitantly let me go, without a fight after I wave them off. I deserve this one. And right now, I could really use letting off some steam. Taking a beating or giving one, it all works up a sweat and pain never killed anyone. Well… Maybe a bad point to make.

"You're supposed to be terrified." Ophelia says, sounding disappointed as I calmly follow along behind Tonks who's leading us Morgana knows where.

"After Quirrell, I just don't feel it anymore." I say, shrugging. The worst Ophelia would do would be to hex me. I might be facing Voldemort in detention this weekend.

"Quirrell? Wasn't he the muggle studies teacher?" Ophelia says with an incredulous look, then she looks deeply offended. "You're saying the muggle studies teacher is scarier than me?"

"You know he's the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher now." Tonks says from ahead of us. Looking back to give Ophelia an annoyed look.

She laughs, short and cold. "Our last instructor could barely figure out how to dress herself let alone hold a wand, forgive me if I'm not shaking in my boots." She mocks her friend.

Can I have that teacher please? No? Fuck you too world! I think, not really handling things well. My calm moment with my tea having worn off.

I shake my head soon after, warning them, "Just wait until you have DADA." I look ahead somberly. "You'll see."

"Hey, I know I said we'd do this today…. But are you okay, Lucas?" Tonks says suddenly, having stopped and turned around, eyes searching. She didn't appear to like what she found.

"No." I admit. I am definitely not okay right now. "Let's do it anyway." I had such a decisive easy plan to follow at Hogwarts. And the first day has completely blown it up. If Quirrell and Snape were different. What would Lockhart be like? Lupin? Moody? What if Voldemort wasn't batshit insane? If he could actually concretely move without having to do silly convoluted book plots. Yeah, I was definitely not okay. I had a plan to avoid the war and the worst of it. The magical world was crazy dangerous at times. And now it seems I was stuck with no compass, everything different enough that I couldn't predict things.

"Tonks, don't go soft on me. The kid wants to do it. And I definitely have some stress to work out." Ophelia whines, sharply. "He's willingly offering to be our chew toy, don't pussy out!"

"Language!" Tonks says, giving Ophelia an indecipherable look.

She snorts mockingly, "Come off it, Tonks. You've been wanting to smack him around since the summer, the opening feast is just more motivation."

"I'm really okay with it." I say calmly. Meeting Tonks' eyes. She looks even more uncomfortable now, it seems I'm not helping. Seems to be how it goes for me, I think guiltily.

She bites her lip, "Yeah, that's what's worrying me…" She looks around, sighing. "We're almost there anyway. We'll just practice some spells. Nothing too mean." She says firmly. Sending Ophelia a glare when she opens her mouth to protest.

Ophelia clicks her teeth shut, looking annoyed. Before tossing her hair haughtily. "Fine, but if I don't get any stress relief from this, you owe me, Tonks!"

Tonks chuckles, "All night long, I promise." She winks down at me, "You didn't hear or understand any of that, little claw, right?"

What can I say, I'm thrown by the hint of a physical relationship between the two, but I've been suicidal enough for the last two days. "I don't know what you're talking about." I say placidly.

"He's learned how to keep his mouth shut at least." Ophelia scoffs. "Let's get to hexing him already." She's practically bouncing on her feet.

"Keep your knickers on, you terror." Tonks says with a teasing smile. I'm changing my mind, I do not want to do this if the two of them are going to be flirting during.

"Not in front of the firstie, isn't this how you got into trouble in the first place, you hedonist." Ophelia grumbles, pointing her wand towards Tonks in a playful manner.

"Oh you wanna go? Give me a spanking?" Tonks waggles her eyebrows, her own wand raised.

"If we're not doing my punishment beating, can I go? I really don't want to be here for the two of you… Doing whatever this is." I say dryly, honestly at this point I do blame Tonks. Everything around her just goes insane. Maybe it's not all me.

Tonks and Ophelia eye each other, I grimace as I recognize the hungry looks. Why on earth did they even waste time getting me if they're going to be like this? "I'm leaving." I say taking a step away.

"No… I want to put this all behind us. Let's do this." Tonks says finally. Reaching out and grabbing my arm, dragging me with her as she suddenly speeds up for our destination.

Ophelia mutters something behind us, I feel my face reddening as Tonks squeaks and jumps ahead of me, pulling me along so hard she almost jerks my shoulder out of its socket. That crazy bitch sent a spell at her bum! I don't know what it did, I don't want to know. Get me the hell out of here! I'm not getting into the middle of this!

Tonks drags me into a room on the second floor, not too far away from the Defense against the Dark Arts tower. The room is bigger on the inside, almost as big as a soccer field, and it has targets laying around the walls, scorch marks everywhere, broken desks, even a gouge in the floor several meters wide, target dummies here and there, haphazardly tossed to the ground, the place looks a bit of a mess to be honest.

"Tonks… You said you'd cleaned up before we left for the summer…" Ophelia says, a hand to her face, shaking her head. She's trying to sound angry, but her hand isn't completely hiding her grin from my perspective closer to the ground.

"This is the cleaned up state, you should have seen it before." Tonks says playfully, twirling her wand between her fingers.

"What is this place?" I ask curiously.

"Just a little something one of our Hufflepuff friends came up with, and helped us set it all up by sweet talking Flitwick. She graduated last year." Tonks says, a fond smile on her face as she looks around the room. "I put her on her ass sooo many times in here. Good times."

"Please no more of that stuff." I say exasperated. Merlin I wasn't that bad at their age was I?

"In dueling!" Tonks clarifies, but she's laughing at me now. Ophelia sending me a superior smirk, fingering her wand.

"Sure. Whatever. Let's call it dueling." I say rolling my eyes. "So how are we doing this?"

It's only because I'm looking at Ophelia that I manage to roll away from the silent spell she sends my way. "Oh, come on!?" I shout. Dodging again, as a giggling Tonks sends what I recognize as a stinging hex my way.

I roll away, taking my wand out in the process and shouting, "Fumos!" The smokescreen spell immediately covers me with smoke, as I roll to my feet and sprint away to get some distance.

"Oh, he's a clever little rat." I hear Ophelia laugh, "I'll enjoy putting him down!" Just to my left the smoke disappears in a hole, sight visible all the way back to Ophelia's wand, a spell impacting the far wall with a loud thud, having blown away the smoke for its entire path.

"You'll take his head off with that." Tonks says conversationally, I'm starting to regret the smoke screen. They can't see me, but I can't see their spells either. And even firing randomly, I'm finding it hard to move out of the way in time.

"Just a teeny concussion. No biggie." Ophelia says excitedly. "Homenum Revelio." She calls out, "~Found you!~" She sings. Before I barely roll away from whatever the hell she's firing at me that keeps impacting like a damn sledgehammer.

"Run little claw, run before we snare you, I think Ophelia might actually break some bones!" Tonks cackles.

I can hear Ophelia chuckling between my frantic dodges of whatever spell that is, they're having a good damn conversation while silently spellcasting. I just barely dodge to the side of another spell, gasping as it was inches away from my head.

"You don't need his head completely intact, do you?" Ophelia trills excitedly.

"Eh," Tonks chuckles, "He has a hard head." I run out of the smoke, blanching when I find Tonks waiting there. But her voice was coming from the other direction!?

"You threw your voice!" I yell accusingly. I yelp as Tonks nails me easily with a stinging hex to the gut. Then I quickly toss myself to the ground barely avoiding Ophelia's spell, the top of my hair ruffled. As I fall, I fire off a spell at a surprised Tonks, catching her with an, "Impedimenta." The impediment jinx slows her down for a moment as I dive back into the smoke, firing stinging hexes - Due to being able to rapid fire them - back at her last known position, while keeping my ears peeled for the telltale swoosh of Ophelia's spell.

I get two stinging hexes, one to the groin, one straight to the face, as Ophelia was waiting for me to do just that and nails me expertly. I fall down howling, the unexpected pain not terrible, but certainly not pleasant, nor was I ready for it. I roll around on the ground, making a big deal out of my pain, as Tonks rushes over, scowling at Ophelia.

The second I see Ophelia's eyes slant over towards Tonks. I strike. "Expelliarmus! Flipendo!" I disarm her, her wand flying into the air, and then with all the strength of will and intent I have, I imagine the knockback jinx tossing her into a somersault in the air and I fire it.

The yelp Ophelia makes as she's suddenly somersaulted and then slams back into the ground is very satisfying. I wandlessly use "Accio." For her wand, and hold it steady in my left hand.

"Holy shit! Are you suicidal, baby claw?" Tonks says, holding her wand pointed my way, but watching Ophelia with wide amused eyes. "Ophelia, the baby has your ~wand~" She sings teasingly.

Ophelia pulls her braids out of her face, as she slowly gets up from her prone position. Her eyes practically shooting lightning bolts at me. Her cheeks red with anger. "Not for long!" And then she rushes me with a roar, while I scramble back, trying to nail her with another knockback jinx.

"Nuh-uh, take your beatings like a man." Tonks says cheerfully, flinging spells at me everytime I get my wand in Ophelia's direction, forcing me to dodge those and lose my opportunity.

"I still have your wand, what are you gonna do? Punch me? Like a muggle?" I taunt Ophelia, which in hindsight, not my best decision.

Her golden eyes spark with anger, and she snarls at me, jumping towards me. I raise my wand, Tonks won't be able to hit me before I get her this time, she's too close. Then suddenly she seems to grow fur, Oh shit that's a Jaguar! I scream mentally as a fucking Jaguar does a flying leap at me, knocking me over, taking the wand out of my left hand with her mouth and treading not too kindly on my torso, knocking the breath out of me.

She transforms back, and of fucking course she's an Animagus. Why not?

She flips her hair haughtily, somewhat ruined by her rumpled appearance and the sweat on her face. "You'll pay for laying your filthy hands on my beautiful wand, you cretin!"

Unfortunately for her, the minute she decides to start talking, I level my wand her way, and just as she finishes her sentence, nail her with another knockback jinx. Her angry shriek makes Tonks literally fall down laughing. Tears coming out of her eyes.

"I can see why she needs help with DADA. Talks too much." I huff. Making Tonks laugh harder. I make the mistake of thinking she is an easy target. I fire a knockback jinx at her, and her wand meets it, tip lit up, and she deflects it back at me, my vision going upside down as I violently fling back, somersaulting through the air.

"Depulso!" Comes an angry growl, Ophelia stalking forward, hitting me dead on before I can even land from Tonks spell, and sending me careening into the wall.

I smack into it with a loud groan, falling down, managing to duck the next spell, barely. Before I run again. Tonks and Ophelia both send spells after me. One with markedly more enthusiasm.

Another Depulso hits me, this time from Tonks. And I'm sent across the floor, rolling without control. Just barely managing to stop myself from slamming into a wall again, then I'm dodging spellfire. I take a stinging hex to the arm, the shoulder, then the gut again.

"Tonks! Stop being the only one to hit the little brat!" Ophelia complains, sending another hex my way that I avoid by jumping into Tonks hex.

"Stop aiming for his balls and face and maybe he'll stop jumping into my spells!" Tonks laughs. Firing spells rapid fire like, her hair wild and untamed and with pure joy in her eyes.

I try another Fumos. Tonks does something that blows all of the smoke away by twirling her wand. I manage to nail Tonks with an Expelliarmus and the fucking bitch throws her wand in the air just before the spell hits, then grabs it again and nails me with another stinging hex, my whole body is basically one big welt at his point.

I switch targets to Ophelia, but now that she's not working on just pure anger, she's cold and calculated with her spells, I can't touch her at all, and every spell she sends either hits me, or forces me into Tonks spells.

I'm running out of ideas and energy. My body hurts, my face hurts. I feel better though. Tonks looks happy. I've paid for my mistake. A workout has worked wonders in making me less maudlin about Quirrell.

I avoid another hex to my groin, this girl is just messed up, ending up taking another one from Tonks as payment. Then I automatically move away from the next groin shot from Ophelia, groaning when I spot her wand following me, her eyes focused, she knew I would dodge into Tonks spell and waited for me to get used to the pattern. I'm not surprised at all when instead of a stinging hex a compact ball of wind hits me straight in the face.

…Ow!

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Tonks beat down the tingle of worry as she saw Lucas drop, and yes that's definitely a broken nose, she thought, feeling conflicted. She had been enraged at the boy for using the opening feast of all things to humiliate her. If it had been just them in private she'd have probably found it funny. As it was, people thought they could poke at her powers again, if she was getting as they said all day today; naughty with the first year.

She had a thick skin in general. She wasn't one to avoid trouble. Nor did she have a problem hitting someone in the elderberries if they were being creeps. It's just…She had thought this year…

She sighed forlornly, walking up to the crumpled unconscious boy. She had intended to beat the crap out of him. Even told Ophelia to literally scare him to death. She had underestimated just how angry her best friend - sometimes lover - was. She'd been forced to put a stop to it, much sooner than she really wanted. Because dammit she was hurt.

But she had seen the look in Lucas' eyes. When he realized. The shock he exuded, the guy hadn't meant to hurt her, that was obvious. And then came the self loathing, so strong Tonks had almost thought the boy would go for his own wand or let Ophelia do as she wished. It woke her up. The boy really meant his apology. And Tonks couldn't let Ophelia loose completely. Her sadistic streak would be too much for a firstie. Honestly, how on earth she ever conned the hat into letting her into Hufflepuff. She loved the girl, really, but even Tonks admitted she was a little unhinged.

She looked at the poor guy, welts all over, his face swollen and red, a broken nose. One hell of a goose egg. Probably uncomfortably swollen in other places if Ophelia's targeting held true.

She definitely forgave him now. She did like the little shit. He was funny and could hold a conversation with her on her level. While giving as good as he got. And her parents liked him, so that settled that. Now she had other worries. The kid had shown a scary level of self loathing for an ickle firstie. And then today. Something must have happened. Because he was happy to have the shit beat out of him. He didn't even complain at the end when he was basically one big welt. Tonks was kind of worried about his mindset more than any injury.

She watched as Ophelia kneeled over Lucas, healing his broken nose, checking over his goose egg. She sighs again as the girl does not heal the welts. "C'mon, hasn't he had enough, he's paid for his comments." She chides her friend gently.

"He needs the physical reminder. They'll have healed by tomorrow anyway." Ophelia says with a shake of her head. All the butterfly charms Tonks made for her, jingling quietly. Barely audible, Tonks always heard them though. They were spelled precisely for that.

"At least heal him where you hit him the most." She says delicately.

Ophelia snorts. "I'm not putting my wand anywhere near that, firstie or not."

"The world's future greatest healer," Tonks drawls sarcastically, "As long as they have tits."

"I am who I am." Ophelia says with one of those little taunting smirks she likes to put on to get Tonks mad. Tonks isn't going to get distracted now though.

"Are you going to let things go? I have." Tonks asks a small soft smile coming unbidden to her. She does love when Ophelia gets all scary bitch for her. Have ever since they were little firsties and Ophelia was all claws and no charm. She really hadn't changed all that much… Her claws were much sharper now.

"Nope." Ophelia says, a secretive smile on her face. "He'll have to work harder for it." She sniffs, stroking her wand.

Tonks winces, she's not going forget being disarmed anytime soon…

She raises an eyebrow in surprise as her friend puts her wand over the head of her ickle claw again. Was she going to heal him after all? How unlike her to change her mind…

"Oblivia-" Tonks is faster with her "Expelliarmus!" Ophelia's wand flying into the air, Tonks catching it with her hair going frazzled with shock. "What in Merlin's heaving ball sack do you think you're doing?" She yells.

Ophelia just raised a calm eyebrow at her, looking puzzled. Tonks bites her lip hard enough to bleed. "Don't give me that look, what the fuck were you thinking? He has a Morgana damned concussion!"

"Only two people know I am an Animagus." Ophelia says coldly, "You and me… Now there's three." She smiles coldly at Lucas. "I think two is a superior number, really."

Tonks normally loves how Ophelia goes between hot and cold, but this is a line over what she's willing to do. Lucas is a firstie and a friend. "No." She says firmly.

"I'm sure I can convince you, Tonks." Ophelia says with a cold calculating expression, pulling her braids to her front, letting them fall down over her breasts.

Tonks is kind of offended, does she really think she's that easy?

"Don't kid yourself, sweetie, we both know in this relationship you're the one that comes running when I beckon." She says scathingly.

Ophelia continues to look at her calculatingly, head tilted, golden eyes like a hawk as she examines Tonks. Not even reacting to her scathing and true comeback. Eventually Ophelia sighs, "You're not going to let me obliviate him, are you?"

"No. And I swear on the blood bonds we made in fourth year… If he's suddenly coming to me with holes in his head, I'm coming for you." Tonks bites out. She wanted to become a goddamn Auror. There were some things Ophelia was okay with that would never fly with her. They usually made it work. But she wouldn't let her mess with Lucas' brain.

"And there's nothing I can do to… Convince you?"

Tonks glares at her, crossing her arms. Their relationship as best friends and whatever else the fuck they were to each other, was up and down, but never before had Ophelia suggested to do something like this. "We're not those kinds of people." She states flatly.

Ophelia smiles sadly, closing her eyes, "Oh, Tonks. You know I am."

"Only if you chose to be, and you're not going to chose to be." Tonks spits out, tossing her wand back to the black girl.

"I am still angry with him… But he was impressive… For his age." Ophelia says idly, running her wand across his chin. Tonks isn't worried, once Ophelia realizes Tonks limits she pulls back, she won't break that. The girl is dependent on her to a level that always makes Tonks want to go hurt her family.

"He was. Could you imagine any of the boys in our year take that many stinging hexes and still be standing?" She muses, she'd honestly been impressed with the boy since she met him. Intelligent, clever - which wasn't the same thing - A sense of humor, and just something, there was something there with him, that made Tonks want to poke and prod. Like there was a mystery to unravel.

"Kid's got guts." Ophelia smirks, "Too bad he isn't a witch…"

Tonks rolls her eyes, "He's also eleven, don't be weird." She laughs suddenly, "He also totally got you! I always did say you talk too much!"

Ophelia's face twitches. "He got lucky… And now he knows…" She growls slightly, frustrated.

"That was entirely your fault, you lost your cool against a firstie, got taken for a ride, lost your wand, and then exposed your own secret." Tonks says firmly, still laughter in her eyes, the memory of Ophelia's gobsmacked look as she flew into the air and lost her wand would be with her until she died!

"I suppose I have no choice but to trust him." Ophelia gripes, giving Tonks a long suffering look.

"Try being less of a bitch. It might help." Tonks points out dryly. Before giggling. Ophelia could barely be respectful to the Professors, so she really doubted she'd suddenly play nice. Except to Snape of course. It baffled Tonks how Ophelia, who barely could stand guys, excepting that brief disastrous fling with Fawley. Could have the hots for Snape of all people. Although she always would sniff and tell Tonks it's his brain she had the hots for. Potions people were nuts, she decided not for the first time. She really wished she didn't need the NEWT for becoming an Auror.

"Please, you like me just as I am." She scoffs. She pokes Lucas gingerly with her wand. "You should take him back to the dorm. Let him sleep it off." She suggests.

Tonks raises a surprised eyebrow, "And what exactly will you be doing?"

Ophelia smirks, some fire in her eyes again, "Waiting for you to come back and entertain me." She says, suggestively.

Tonks rolls her shoulders, "Alright, be back in a jiffy." She could use a workout tonight... Just drop off the kid and then come back, shouldn't be long.

A few minutes later as she opens the door to the Hufflepuff common room, Lucas' unconscious body floating beside her, she meets Professor Sprout's unimpressed gaze.

"This…" She looks for words, before slumping her shoulders. "Is exactly what it looks like." She admits.

Damn… Ophelia's going to be pissed when I don't come back. Tonks thinks wryly. Oh well, at least she can't blame this one on Lucas, if she'd healed him like she asked then she could have probably spun a tale for Sprout.

She might beat her detention record for the first month at this rate.

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I wake up with a start, my heart is racing, I look around me wildly, before I realize I wasn't in a fight anymore, Oh, yeah…. Ophelia knocked me out…

I blink owlishly at my surroundings. Am I in the hospital wing?

The numerous beds, dividers and the smell that seems to be just like infirmaries everywhere would suggest so. I touch my face, surprised to not feel any pain or welts. Pomfrey does good work…

I look around, seeing no one else in the hospital wing. It's completely dark and eerily silent. No sign of its matron. I find my wand on the nightstand next to my bed, a quick "Tempus." Tells me the time is 01:23 in the morning.

I hop off the bed, glad to still be in my robes and not a hospital gown of some sort. I'm well rested and not in any more pain. Seems to me I have the perfect opportunity to do some exploring.

I sneak out of the hospital wing, glad to see there's no sort of alarm set for me leaving, or if there is, at least not one that has Poppy Pomfrey arriving to catch me.

I keep my ears peeled for any sounds as I head for the room of requirement. Looking out for Filch or a teacher, or worse, running into Ophelia patrolling.

To my frustration, sounds are everywhere in Hogwarts. Night time not stopping portraits from quietly chatting with each other or the noise from suits of armor shifting their feet. Or moving, as I twice walked into a hallway to find suits of armor and statues climbing off their pedestals and switching places. No wonder no one gave directions based on statues, they didn't stay in place!

My frustration grows as does my interest in Hogwarts magic, as I open the door to another hallway, pass through. and find myself on the first floor! I had walked through from the sixth floor!

Only the fact I have hours still until morning, makes me try again, and again. Finding myself going down a set of stairs, and ending up two floors higher. Magic was awesome! And incredibly irritating.

Twice I'm forced to hide in a broom closet as Filch stalks by, muttering angrily to himself. Both times I'm almost caught because I've entered a hallway or door that leads me almost straight into him. Is Hogwarts actively trying to mess with me? Or am I just paranoid? At this point I'm fighting to get to the seventh floor just on principle.

I even end up in the third corridor. Twice! The castle would rather lead me to a Cerberus then allow me to the seventh floor.

I mean, I was even walking through a straight corridor, and I walked another step that ended up on a set of stairs. I look behind me, and there's no corridor anymore, I'm completely on the grand staircase, just walls around me. I'd scream in frustration if it weren't likely to have Filch running into me soon after.

I'm just beginning to wonder if it's even worth trying anymore, when I stumble off a moving staircase from the sixth floor. And actually appear to be on the seventh floor. Finally! Quirky castle, I love it as much as I am annoyed by it. I wonder if Hogwarts is sentient and messing with me, or if it's just a night time protocol to screw with students out of bounds. Not the first time I've wondered about sentience, I doubt I'll get an answer anytime soon.

Stepping into the corridor that holds the room of requirement. I think I have my answer. Sooner than I thought. Much sooner. Hogwarts must be at least semi-sentient. Because the castle definitely did not want me here. It had worked to protect the student, me.

The sight that meets me when I enter the corridor is Professor Quirrell exiting the room of requirement, holding the Ravenclaw Diadem! The fucking Horcrux!

I'm dead. I've killed myself. Is my only thought as I stand, frozen.

Quirrell meets my eyes, a cold smile blooming on his face. "What a pleasant surprise, Mister Greenwood."

"Professor Quirrell, I guess I have detention again, huh?" I say weakly, nervous sweat on my forehead as I try to maneuver this situation. Inwardly shaking in fear. It's settled, this is not book canon, no way, there are no butterflies I've done in one month in the wizarding world to change things to this level!

"Oh, I'm not one to punish a student's curiosity." Quirrell says quietly, a thin smile still in place. He cocks his head, studying me with an intense hungry gaze. "I am quite interested however in knowing how you, a mudblood, knew to find this room."

It's the casual cool way he says it that makes it sting even more. There's no passion, no hate, no cruelty meant to be inflicted. To him I just am a lesser creature. My mind whirls desperately with a believable excuse. I can't use the house elves, I've been here two days, it's not a believable lie. I need to say something already!

"Ophelia Onai was talking about it and I overheard it." I lie, not willing to mention Tonks, the only other plausible person I could have heard about it from. I know it's a weak lie, and pointless even as I say it.

Quirrell tuts, "A lie, Mister Greenwood. Must be expertly crafted, spun without hesitation, your facade and eyes turned into its loyal subordinates." His thin smile turns malicious, eyes darkening, "I'd think a mudblood able to lie so well that the Prophet starts pretending mudbloods can learn, can become like us! Would do it better!"

I gulp, my hands shaking, staring at him, the shadows seemingly growing behind him, casting his pale face in relief, he looks crazed, fanatic angry eyes staring at me. He's still holding the Horcrux in his left hand. Oh…That was a mistake, I immediately realize, as Quirrell sees my glance, and his intent grows murderous. I feel like my throat is constricted, I can't breathe.

He raises his wand against me and I feel tears prickling in my eyes as a green sickly light plays at the tip of the wand. Then he pauses. Looking aggravated.

"If I didn't have to continue to play professor, I'd crack your skull open and suckle on what little nugget of information you possess that brought you here, little mudblood." Quirrell drawls, waving his wand lazily in my direction.

I can't speak, I can't think, I don't want to die! Please, I don't want to die, I haven't even lived yet!

"Dumbledore is keeping an annoyingly close eye on me, you can thank that for living beyond today." He points his wand at me, "Well, if you could remember." He mocks, before hissing out, "Obliviate!"

I don't even dodge, I can't. My limbs are frozen in fear and panic. The white light hits me.

……..What was I doing?

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