Ah finals, the bane of student everywhere…

Chapter 11

Eric glanced at the class schedules as they were passed out the following morning. It was pretty much the same as last year. Double potions with the puffs on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday were Charms and then Transfiguration with the lions's, Double DA with the badgers on Friday and History of Magic and Herbology with Slytherin this morning. Eric absently let Tony lick the bacon grease off his fingers and began rubbing the Shishi's chin, prompting it to purr. He was starting in on an omelet he'd requested of one of the breakfast platters when a palpable sense of menace filled the room. Looking around wildly he saw nothing of note other than the post owls soaring in through their shafts near the ceiling. He gave a shrug and a frown before turning back to his eggs and ham the situation was familiar to him but for the life of him he couldn't remember why.

Then Errol slammed like a bomb into his plate, scattering food and utensils everywhere. Eric didn't know who the ancient half dead owl belong to but he immediately recognized the smoking red letter attached to its leg, somebody had sent him a howler.

Sighing Eric put a finger to the owls leg where the string was tied to it and cast a miniaturized difindo at it, freeing the owl from its burden which immediately began to smoke. Eric momentarily considered what to do about the cursed missive, it was quite the interesting bit of spell work and he honestly wanted to study it but was he really willing to allow anyone into his private business, let-alone everyone? No, this person, whoever they were, wanted to make a scene, probably thinking they could get him to break under the weight of public pressure, he's seen the tactic used in gangs often enough and it was always best to crush such notions quickly before they became a hassle. Summoning a knife from a nearby place he quickly slammed it through the paper which had lifted off the table in preparation to scream at him. Those who hadn't turned to look at him when the unfortunate owl had fallen on his plate quickly joined the rest as the crash of his ramming the blade home into the wooden table rang across the room.

"Can I help you?" Eric asked loudly as the letter twitched and whistled under his hand. The stares continued for several seconds before most of them turned away, whispering. The redhead himself turned back in his seat and found himself looking at Luna Lovegood.

"Jägers bothering you, Magneto?" the girl said pleasantly, grabbing some toast and bacon.

"Hmm?" he asked looking at her serene expression before shrugging. "Na, somebody's mad though, so I'm giving a moment to calm down, shouldn't last long." He said as his eyes began glowing a faint plum and starred at the letter. "Fascinating…" he watched intently as the magic in the letter bled out as it tried and failed to fulfill its purpose. As the strings of violet energy finally stopped wafting off the papers surface and the sheet turned white once more Eric shunted the memories of the magic's patterned shapes to a place where he could recall it quickly and wrenched the steak knife out of the table. Snatching up the letter he unfolded it.

Eric Sirius Black ne Stark,

You will leave my family alone, do you hear me? Wasn't it enough that you make Ronald's life hell that you had to encourage my sons to throw away their futures on a joke shop and tell my husband to give up his job at the ministry to make you a flying car? Arthur wastes enough of his time in that garage already without you corrupting him! You think you can buy us like the Malfoy's? I will not have it, do you hear me? If you ever darken my family with your presence again then by Merlin and Morgana I will see you in cursed!

Eric growled under his breath, the note was unsigned but from the contents he could easily see who had sent it. Stupid interfering bitch he thought nastily.

"Hmm, by that expression, it's defiantly Jägers." Eric's thoughts cut off abruptly and his head snapped up to look quizzically at the odd blond.

"What are Jägers? I'll be the first to admit I don't know everything about magical creatures, but I've never heard of these Jägers, unless you're referring to the slang for the giant black cat the Jaguar."

"Oh no, not a jaguar, thought you do seem to have a thing for cats…" she said, looking over to where Padma and Su were coming down the stairs off to the side of the great hall. "A Jägers is a little demon that lives in water and when drunk it causes the drinker to become terribly angry. Drink enough of them and you become a monster, with horns and teeth and claws and everything." She said earnestly, her great silver eyes unblinking.

Eric blinked stupidly and stared at the blond for several long moments as his two female friends sat down on either side of him. "Hello, uh, Luna was it?" Eric shook his head as the three girls surrounding him started chatting and made a note to mirror Mr. Weasley for a chat after classes today. It should probably be done before dinner so that the older redhead would still be at work and away from his wife. Pulling out a pen Eric wrote himself a note on the inside of his elbow and ordered another omelet.

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Eric stared at Bins disgusted. "Professor, you can't honestly mean to tell me that in nearly twelve thousand years of magical history, nine of which we actually have records from in the library, your syllabus for this and the next six years revolves solely around dark creature rebellions of this millennia?"

The ghost looked at him implacably before speaking in that same wheezy monotone he always lectured in. "No, Mr. um… Spark, was it? We cover the forming of the ICW and statute of secrecy as well."

"Both of which happened because of dark creature rebellions." Eric insisted, irritation clear in his voice. The rest of the class was staring at him, probably wondering why he was arguing with Bins instead of sleeping or mechanically writing notes like the rest of them.

"Well, yes, the ICW was formed in an attempt to negotiate a reasonable cessation of hostilities between wizard kind and the other magical nations, but I hardly see…"

"The civilian anti-magic movement started with the formation of the Christian church under noted Jewish demon hunter Jesus of Nazareth two thousand years ago when he told his civilian followers that the monsters they feared were policed and regulated by magical society. After his ascension as a demi-god his civilian followers wrote the Malleus Maleficarum, a literal how to manual for tracking down and subduing witches and wizards. Thing is, even with the book things really went nowhere for the most part, a few nut jobs here and there, most of which used the thing as an excuse to kill civilian women who were getting, what's the word, 'uppity'. As is noted in our history of magic book though, attempts on real witches and wizards spiked every time there was a magic creature rebellion until the Spanish inquisition in the fourteen to sixteen hundreds which came on the heels of a dark lord who, like Voldemort," Eric rolled his eyes as the class flinched or squeaked at the name "had a particular fondness for setting dark creatures on civilian population centers. The Ministry and other similar foreign groups were formed as a way to reach out to the local governments and politely sooth tensions created by the inquisition, but the inquisition itself was a response to said dark lord, a concept you still haven't even touched on in class."

"Mmm…which concept young man?" Bins asked.

"Dark lords." Eric returned deadpan as the professor now. "Dark creature rebellions are all well and good, despite your obvious apparent bias, but only covering one millennia out of twelve and completely ignoring the dark lords? What about the greats, Ptolemy, Nebakanezer, Solomon, Baba Yaga, Antonis The Invincible, Merlin, Horus, half the kings of Egypt and Greece, what of the founding four of Hogwarts or Nicolas Flamel? Bloody hell, Grindelwald and Voldemort himself if you want to get into recent history, both are big things to know about, you pure and half-bloods who grew up in the wizarding world might be familiar with the names, but the rest of us got to stumble along in the dark here and simply hearing you tell us to hate other magical races and how the witch trials were a joke isn't really learning history. You people keep telling me that wizarding Europe and Brittan is something to be proud of but if I don't know about achievements and struggles of the people involved, how can I really understand that? What reason would I have to care?"

At this point the entire class was staring at him in open shock. Several of them were opening and closing their mouths like fish out of water, especially the Slytherins, and Eric felt like bashing his head against the wall as it became obvious that none of this had even occurred to most, if any, of them. The muggle-born's and half-bloods at least were looking as if they were giving the situation some serious thought and even a few of the Slytherins showed the dawning light of comprehension. "In that case, Evan, was it? What would you like to know about?"

"How about let's start with recent news, since I already went on a rant about it, how about we learn how it is that the witch trials, which were apparently such a joke, drove an entire society so scared we decided to systematically mind rape any and every civilian who talks about magic in public?"

"Well, what do you want me to say?" Bins asked irritably "I've already given you my lecture last year. Burning never worked, a simple flame freezing charm and it became something of a sport for numerous witches, most notably Wendelin Weasley, who took a shining to the sensation, so much so that she actually took to going out of her way to get caught. Levitation charms meant that the rock stacking attack never did anything, nearly all witches and wizards could swim at that time due to the commonality of aquatic potion ingredients so trying to drown us never worked and those holy symbols and their attempts to mime our chanting were hilarious. What can I say, we got tired of it."

"So the three hundred and seventeen deaths across England alone, including the Gryffindor ghost nearly headless Nick and some two hundred and fifty seven children had nothing to do with it?" there was a ripple of muttering around the room at that and most of his class mates had a look of horror on their faces, but Bins had gone back to his usual blank mask.

"That will be detention Mr. Stark." Bins said before launching back into his lecture on the 1103 goblin rebellion. Eric sat down and opened his book on transfiguration, might as well get some real studying done while Bins wore on about stuff he'd already read last year.

"Eric," Padma asked, laying down her quill and looking at him with the rest of the class "why would you say those things? Where did you learn all of that?"

"That was Malfoy's doing actually," Eric said, twisting in his seat to look at the blond, who was staring at him intently. "Yeah, you little cousin" he said before turning back to his friends. "You see, last year when I was dealing with trying to teach Draco wandless magic he said something that got me thinking, the wizarding world has twelve thousand years of known history, ten of them where we directly supported and mixed with civilian families and even then we still kept some fairly close ties with them until the statute of secrecy in the late 1600's so I got to thinking about why. I went to the library and asked Madam Pince a few questions and there it all was, plain for anyone who cared to look. The books don't come out and say it, but the impression that I got was that the wizarding world got scared. A few dozen stupid wizards here and there, over nearly two hundred years if the inquisition, who cares, but the kids? Wizards realized that even if the civilians couldn't properly strike out at a wizard with their wand, little kids who still performed accidental magic were both easy to find and kill. Those children's deaths nearly all happened in the last 20 years of the attacks, before the magical world decided that maybe mind magic wasn't so evil and was actually a good safety measure. Before 1690 the ICW maintained that Oblivious and similar mind altering spells were actually listed as dark magic and punishable by a stint in prison."

"That will be a weeks' detention Mr. Stark, would you care to try for more?"

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Herbology with the snakes passed quietly in comparison to Eric's tantrum in history class. Aside from Professor sprouts being in a bad mood from an apparent meeting with Lockheart earlier that morning it was actually fairly pleasant. This class was covering mandrake root, a plant that when grown in dragons dung acquired magical properties, switching from a coma inducing drug to a restorative with a deadly howl. The history of the plant was an interesting one and after taking various questions from and for the class the squat witch went on to explain to the eager claws how older magicians and healers used the unenchanted root as a potions ingredient to cure a wide variety of mental ailments or as a curse focus for mind altering curses. The leaves on the top were also useful for quickly dealing with sores and ulcers.

As Eric washed off the dirt and dung in the sinks outside of greenhouse three he wondered just how the plant might be useful for fixing Bella. The poor girls mind was shattered as best he could tell from his daily examinations of the area. The strongest focal points of the ruin that represented her mindscape had been rapes by the Lestrange brothers, various tortures by the pair and her love for Tom Marvolo Riddle. That was actually the most interesting part of the whole experience Eric ruminated as he scrubbed the fertilizer out from under his fingernails.

Eric continued scrubbing as vivid memories of Bella's mind and Professor Sprouts lecture on Mandragora chased each other through his head. The broken burnt out husk of a building stood before him, leaking smoke from holes in the roof and walls. He climbed the cracked and crumbling stone steps to the door and fingered the tarnished silver lettering that adorned the letter box. 3 Gri d Pl e, half of the door was torn away but there was enough of it that he still needed to turn the handle. He'd entered through the fancy Victorians walls before but there was enough stress and damage in this mind he usually same here instead. Bending down he picked up a fragment of a plate and watched as a ghost of smiling nine year old Bella chasing Sirius around the kitchen with a plate of broccoli as Andromeda laughed before the foreign memory faded back into the background as if a ghost.

He continued through the house to the kitchen and placed the shard with more pieces of a plate before he left again. There was one place in the house that he'd had trouble getting into, a door that was made more of what looked like spellotape than mahogany. Touching it he got flashes of intense emotion and a handsome face with medium length black hair and classical features. He'd been seeking entrance to that room for the last two weeks as he was sure that's where Bella hid either her core personality and the key to restoring the rest of her or the library of her most important knowledge and secrets. To that end he'd slowly been piecing together the older woman's dementor eaten mind and building memory fragments in search of a key of sorts. He's tried a few times to simply force entry to the room, but the rest of the house had shaken so violently he wasn't sure there would be anything left once he gained entry.

Eric looked down at the book in his hands; it was the pieced together fragments of the woman's journal, detailing her last year at Hogwarts and her fears of marriage to Rodolphus. The brutish pureblood was nearly a decade older than her and the rumors of his sexual proclivities scared even her, enough that she begged her parents to choose someone, anyone else. Her father, Cygnus, had been ready to give in, but her mother, Druella Rossier had been godmother to Rodolphus and ruled her family like a tyrant. Several pages detailed the weakening of her devotion to the pureblood cause and her monthly blood drenched rapes at the hands of her husband and his brothers but the pages after that were blackened ashes and Eric suspected that the real book had been burned at some point.

Eric pressed the book against the door and used a handkerchief that had a lot of ghosts of the young Bellatrix Blacks many sorrows tied to it to envelop the handle as he turned it. Eric smiled sadly as the knob finally turned to reveal an almost pristine library. The room was the size of the Ravenclaw common room and covered in teak shelves supporting hundreds of books, three portraits and a tapestry. The room was mostly whole but deep cracks crisscrossed the area, one somehow even bisecting a chaise lounge without the piece of furniture collapsing.

That was how he had learned about Bellatrix's one true flame. The half couch thing had many ghostly memories of times she and Riddle had simply sat and talked, devising magic, plotting the downfall of the wizarding world and… Eric shook himself out of his reminiscences with a blush, his robes, gloves and hands were thoroughly cleaned and the bones in his hands had begun to radiate the shill of the water issuing from the tap. Pushing some magic into his hands Eric heated them and headed for the great hall. Hopefully he hadn't missed lunch. It seemed unlikely he'd been that long in reverie, but stranger things had happened.

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Dumbledore rubbed his face in a rare display of weakness as he took his eyes of Professor Bins. Eric, Eric, Eric, he thought sighing, why couldn't the boy just be the docile student genius common of muggle raised ravens? The man had just returned from… 'visiting' the Longbottom's. It had been an interesting experience to say the least and Albus was certain he was beginning to piece together the scope of the boys' recent machinations. The question now was; what to do about it?

Frank and Alice's minds had revealed that Eric had revived the pair with rather impressive doses of the Elixir of Life, nearly a quart of the stuff, which he claimed to have stolen from Flamel himself. While that explanation would explain Nicolas' fresh rancor, a heist of such magnitude suggested far more prodigious skills than the ancient professor was willing to believe the boy held. However, that the boy had access to the potion and claimed such a feat pointed to the far more interesting possibility that he had been the reason for the stone's disappearance.

It explained a number of things actually, the boys sudden fortunes, the abrupt revival of his father and people connected to him, the boys donation to the Weasley's; it all fit, including the disappearance of Bellatrix Lestrange from Azkaban which he supposed was the boys motivation for helping the Longbottom's.

The question that bothered him, was why?

Why go to all that trouble? How far ahead did the boy think and why was his ultimate goal? Had he been planning this from the beginning or was he making things up as he went along? The boys' recent disruption of Bins' class, asking about dark lords and challenging the importance of wizarding culture… what was his aim? Everything the boy did built too neatly on itself, the branches to concise to be random, what did this have to do with it all? Was he planning to take notes from the failures of his predecessors? Or did he think awareness of the atrocities of the past were something his classmates needed to understand? The point he had made about the muggle raised knowledge gap was a good one however…

The ancient professor sighed and looked pleadingly at the ghostly one before him. He had an IQ of 183; it really shouldn't be this difficult to get a fix on one simple boy!

"Who would you like Eric to serve his detentions with, Cuthbert?"

"It matters not," the shade rattled "just find someone and some time that would be harsh to him. The boy openly mocks me and broaches subjects forbidden by the ministry. You English types produce enough dark lords without actively studying examples of such behavior in classes."

"And so instead they will learn about it thought their history books and defense classes." Dumbledore said tiredly, it was an old argument when he had first started teaching alongside the man and one they were not likely reconcile soon. "Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it."

"Be that as it may, the minis…"

"Yes, yes…" Dumbledore said, waving ghost off. "I'll offer the detentions to the professors at the next staff meeting." The ghost nodded stiffly and Albus turned back to the soup on his desk.

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Ginerva Molly Weasley hummed easily to herself as she ate her lunch with one hand and wrote in her diary with the other. The small black book had been a rather pleasant surprise from the second hand shop most of her books had come from. What she had first taken to be a simple diary had proven to be an enchanted confidant, an intelligent book that was charming, funny, sensitive and had lots of good advice.

Hello again Tom, she wrote smiling as the ink began to fade into the page, transmitting her words to the kind older boy wherever or whatever he was. The mornings classes were quite interesting, was flitwick always so exuberant when you were here?

Oh, certainly, came the response I dare say he was even more so back then, you see, professor Flitwick started teaching in my third year, fresh out of his dueling days. Does he still squeak about constant vigilance?

Ginny laughed constant vigilance? She asked. No, not yet leastwise, besides I thought that was 'mad-eye Moody's' catch phrase?

Hmm… Tom wrote back he does indeed, thought I don't know anyone by the name of Moody, who is he?

One of my fathers friends in the Auror office. He was a hero in the last war with a recent dark lord and is paranoid like you wouldn't believe!

Oh, I don't know, I like to think I'd believe quite a bit. Tom answered now, how was your day? Had time to spy on that Harry Potter boy you've been gushing about recently?

Only a little Ginny groused, frowning at her book, rumors during breakfast mostly.

Do tell?

A fair number of students were levitating things without their wands and when I asked about it the second years said Harry was one of the leaders of the club where they learned it.

Only one of the leaders? Tom asked carefully from your descriptions of him I would have expected him to be The leader…

No, apparently that Eric boy who's been causing my brothers so much trouble leads them. She wrote back stuffing the corner of some sweet brown bread into her mouth and redipping her quill. Apparently he's a half blood, found his family among the blacks recently or so Fred and George tell me. They claim he's been doing accidental magic on purpose since he was six, but that's impossible. She penned with a snort.

Not entirely… Tom returned.

What?

I performed wandless magic as a child as well; I was quite good at it too. You should see what you can learn from him. Ginny looked at the words for a long moment even after they had faded from the page. It wasn't exactly a bad idea, Harry would be there and she would need time in his presence if he was going to get him away from that mudblood skank…

Alright Tom, rumor has it he holds meetings Saturday after noon.

Good, now, here's what we'll do…

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Eric closed the door to his room in Ravenclaw tower and pulled his mirror out of his pocket. "Mr. Weasley, Arthur."

A few seconds later the thinning red head came into view, a cluttered office behind him. "Oh, hello Eric, my boy. I suppose you got Molly's letter then?"

"Indeed" he said darkly. "But I would like to know what you think, sir."

"Well…" Mr. Weasley temporized.

"I'm sensing a but coming."

"Molly doesn't want me to make your car, let alone work for you." He said heavily.

Eric raised a brow in reply "And I suppose she wants to give back the gold then?"

"Um, no, actually… she was planning to visit Bill with it over Christmas."

Eric stared blankly at them man. "I gave you that gold in good faith" Eric enunciated slowly "with the expectation that you would craft me a car, something that the two of you inform me she has forbidden you to do, and she still expects to spend it?" Mr. Weasley, who had been getting whiter with every word nodded slowly and gulped. "Your sons obviously didn't get their brains from her side of the family… though there is Ronald." Eric shook his head, disgust clear in his voice. "What's your take on all this?"

"Well, I'd love to make you your car. It's not particularly wise to go against Molly though."

"Oh? Whatever you decide I'll happily come through her to collect."

"Yes, well, you see… the thing is, as much as my wife is a little tyrant, I love her; I really do. She wasn't always like this either." The man said, rubbing his face.

"Do tell?" Eric queried, looking interested.

"What do you know about the war with he-who-must-not-be-named?" the older wizard asked.

"Interesting times and all that rot. A lot of people dying, enough so that the student population is a third of what it was supposed to be. Sirius said that despite the order of the phoenix, Dumbledore, the ministry being on your side, you were all losing and badly. Stuck in a delaying action as the old man played a war of attrition."

"That sounds about right." Arthur nodded. "Molly's always been a kind and protective person" Eric snorted and Mr. Weasley gave him a look "and we married fairly young, right out of school in fact. Things were find for a few years, we had a Bill and Charlie and then the war started up. Truth be told it had really started before we had even graduated, but it wasn't till Percy was born that things really started being noticeable. We got into the Order with Dumbledore and acted as a safe house and I was one of Albus' eyes in the ministry. Then Gideon and Fabian Prewitt were killed. Molly took her brothers deaths hard, where she had openly disliked the dark arts and dark aligned families before, she became deeply outspoken and resentful of them and gained a protective streak that was positively smothering. Our children and I love her, but it's not much of a secret that Bill and Charlie chose their jobs for the separation from her and I fear Percy and the twins are headed the same way."

"So her fury at me offering you a job away from the ministry is related… how?"

"Well, you're a black, and your family... well, let's just say their reputation leaves much to be desired. She was rather unfriendly to Sirius and Andromeda for quite some time and all that business with Peter framing your father for the murder of two of her friends… well. Beyond that the ministry had been our livelihood for nearly 25 years and the aurors were responsible for the capture and execution of her families' killers so my job is fairly important to her."

Eric frowned. "How much do you make a year?"

"Umm, well, you see… my department isn't very well looked on so our budget is fairly small. 2000 galleons' a year for me, one and a half for Perkins." Mr. Weasley said sheepishly.

"And with Hogwarts tuition being 500G per person per year, I guess that means your children go on the scholarship I was offered?" Eric said pinching the bridge of his nose.

Arthur looked shocked, "you were offered the scholarship? But you're rich!"

Eric laughed bitterly "I didn't start out that way, I thought you said you'd talked to your sons about me? I started off as an orphaned street rat. When I found out about the magical world I made a business for myself as a bit of a go between for a select cliental. I made my fortune on my own. I didn't find out I had a trust vault at Gringotts just a few months ago. It changed things, sure, but I could have bought your job at the ministry without it."

"Alright, I'll make you're here at the office as payment for that gold you gave us; it's not typically very busy here anyways and I tend to tinker in my garage for a few hours every day after work anyways. I'll tell Molly it's overtime or something. Beyond that… I'd be willing to take commissions."

Eric folded his hands under his chin in thought for a short time then nodded. "Like an artist then; agreed." He said, pulling out a sheet of paper he'd printed off a civilian computer right after he'd first talked with the man. "Now here's what I want…"

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Thursday was fairly quiet compared to Wednesday, Eric merely doing his usual shtick as teachers pet and ensuring as many people could perform the practical portion of the lesson as possible, even pushing several of them to silent and wandless casting. The afternoon was spent in another conversation with Arthur as they drew out plans for their enchanted car. Eric had gone for a classic design both as a joke and an easy way to offer plausible deniability to both the ministry and civilian authorities in the eventuality he got caught flying in public. Eric paused for a moment on his way to dinner, he was going to have to make a point of showing the school the back to the future series some time, he thought, a mu on his face. I guess I have my next project he thought to himself as he took his seat at the Ravenclaw table.

Friday morning Eric joined the Puffs and Claws inside of Lockhearts class room with a feeling of trepidation. Would the guy be a half decent teacher or would he be vindicated in his belief that the man was a useless fop?

Suddenly the door behind the teachers desk banged open with a gust of air and there stood the blond smirking visage of Gilderoy Lockheart, powder blue robes swaying in the breeze. As the spell cut off the man finished making his entrance into the room and addressed the class. "Me," he said, pointing at a winking, smiling portrait on the wall and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

He paused as if waiting for them to laugh; a few of the girls simpered and Eric let his head fall to bang against the table, but nobody laughed. Lockheart frowned slightly but the expression disappeared almost as quickly as it had come and the wavy blond forged ahead.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books - well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about - just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in-"

When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes - start - now!"

Eric scanned the paper quickly, desperately searching for some redeeming quality to the situation.
1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart s favorite color?
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:
54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?

Eric closed his eyes and fought off a shudder of horror. He'd seen teachers who did this occasionally, and read about them often enough in his fictions and varying studies but this was entirely limited to character fluff. "Professor?" he asked, raising a hand.

"Yes," Lockheart looked down at a class seating map quickly "Mr. Black, what do you need?" he asked pleasantly "I can't help you with the test but if you need anything clarified I'd be happy to assist!"

"Is there a point to this? We're here to learn about defending ourselves from dangerous creatures and wizards, not what type of perfume you like…"

The scratching of quills froze and on either side of him Su and Padma moaned. Thanks for the support guys he thought with a note of exasperation coloring his mental voice.

Is this really necessary? Su shot back.

Absolutely Eric returned with a hint of amusement and sarcasm us personality cult leaders absolutely hate to share… Padma hit him over the back of the head and he sent her a wounded expression.

"Thank you Ms. Patil." Lockheart said trying to look disapproving. "As I said just a few minutes ago, this test is designed to see if you actually read my books. Little details to see if you actually paid attention."

"Then wouldn't it be more prudent to ask the names of the scourge of Europe from voyages with vampires or where you met the wendigo during year with the yeti? Those are small details that anyone who'd taken a few hours to read your books would recognize and have actual scholastic value to them."

"Oh? Then I suppose you won't have a problem with todays' practical exam." The man said, smirking evilly. The class at this point had completely abandoned the fluff test to watch the ongoing battle between the two miniature titans.

Eric grinned. "Bring it on."

"Alright class, I must ask you not to scream, for I, Professor Lockheart, am here to teach you how to defend yourself from the worst sort of dark creatures imaginable!" He slowly and theatrically raised a covered bird cage and placed it on his desk before whipping off the covering. "Freshly caught Doxies!" Eric face fell and he resisted the urge to bang his head against the desk again, an expression which Lockheart unfortunately took for fear. "YES! Frightening aren't they?" he said in what Eric assumed was supposed to be a mysterious voice. "Originally fairies, these little blighters were first spawned when a hive of fairies were corrupted by dark magic, Doxies are poisonous, aggressive and highly intelligent! Come to the front of the room, Mr. Black, and we'll see what you make of them!"

Eric got up and trudged over to the teachers' desk, a faint purple light trailing in his wake like an aurora, practically invisible in the brightly lit classroom. Several of the students snickered but otherwise the room was silent save for the Doxies in their cage, chirping obscenities in voices so high they sounded like cicadas. Gilderoy glanced at him sourly, "try not to get bitten." He sneered and tugged on the cages door.

Only it didn't open.

"Is something wrong professor?" Eric asked, the picture of innocence.

"No… no I just forgot to unlock it. Alohamora!" he said and tugged at the door again, but it still refused to budge. A few of the students noticed a slight flicker of purple along the bars and the laughing became louder.

"So, sir, while we're waiting here, how would you suggest dealing with doxies?" Eric asked with exaggerated politeness, bending at the waist to better observe the dark fairies as Lockheart struggled with their cage. Even close up they were kind of pretty he thought absently. Like fairies they appeared to be nearly human though with a few obvious differences. First off, well, they were small. Then there were the wings, on a fairy the wings changed with the climate and probably other factors being either humming bird wings, butterfly or, more typically, gossamer dragonfly like builds. Doxies on the other hand had hard shiny wings deeply reminiscent of a beetle, though certainly no less pretty to look at. Then where humans and fairies were smooth skinned and fairies tended to have lighter skin tones, doxies had soft, jet black fur over most of their bodies.

That was when things got weird. Where fairies followed the human pattern of two legs, two arms one row human shaped teeth, doxy's arms and legs could split into four, no less powerful, limbs and they had multiple rows of sharp venomous fangs. That being said, Doxy venom didn't kill, or at least, not quickly. A bite or two caused the typical victim to suffer slight flue like symptoms, the more bites you get the worse you feel, pretty simple. Eventually the victim starts vomiting uncontrollably, explosive diarrhea, runny nose, coughing till they hack up blood, and eventually they die of dehydration.

Unless you take the antidote… Which, strangely enough, is a potion to which the active ingredient is a doxy's heart. Convenient, right? Whoever said potioneers and healers had no sense of humor?

On the whole though the wizarding world labeled doxies as pests and killed them as such with an aerosoled potion called doxiecide whose active ingredient was the doxy's own venom. Interesting little thing when one considers that the Ministry of Magic labels anything doxy related as a class C non tradable item.

They could be killed any other way you could think to hurt a creature as well, but their speed and agility typically precluded wizards from being able to hit the speed little buggers.

Deciding he'd had his fun with the cage Eric let go of the magic he was using to hold it closed and the weak metal wires tore open under Gilderoy's hand. Tilting his head to the side Eric put a barrier between the class and the doxies, who swarmed over Lockheart, suddenly looking significantly less pretty. Eric snickered quietly as they bugs bounced off a shimmering plum shield barely centimeters from the professors skin while the man waved his arms around wildly, screaming in terror as he tried to protect his face. It was decidedly mean, but the man wouldn't end up hurt.

"Excuse me, professor! I didn't quite catch that! How were we supposed to deal with the doxies? You should really try to calm down professor; I don't think that's working!" by this point the entire class was either laughing; the boys, or looking at the man, expressions torn between concern and disgust. Eric felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Neville standing there.

"I think that's enough Eric, you've made your point, whatever it is." The boy had such a serious expression on his face Eric didn't even pout and try to weasel in a few more minutes, he simply nodded.

"Alright." He replied, turning back to the attack. Raising his arm for the class to see he clenched his fist and the doxies froze in midair. Gilderoy Lockheart continued to scream for several seconds as the black fairies floated away from him, no longer making a sound or even twitching. Eric moved the little creatures back into their cage and set the latch. "Did you even have doxiecide?" Eric asked him in disgust. When the man didn't respond Eric shook his head. "Your face is fine, with all your screaming I suppose you didn't even notice that you don't have a bite or scratch on you. Falling to a swarm of doxies, and you call yourself a professor?"

Eric went back to his seat, gathered his materials and walked out of the classroom silently, unchallenged by Gilderoy.

Much of the class followed after him.

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Albus Dumbledore stormed around his office running his fingers through his beard. He'd had people coming to him all week asking for a complete syllabus for the defense against the dark arts classes and now Stark, damn the boy, had brazenly led walk out on his professor. He looked at the man lying insensate on the floor and scowled, he'd hired Gildreroy despite the misgivings he'd had when the boy did so poorly on his NEWTs because Lockheart had built himself a rather grand reputation after leaving the school, defending town from dark entities, earning titles, publishing books and all around becoming a household name.

Sixth, seventh, fifths and second years had all expressed, subtlety or otherwise, that they'd rather be rid of this teacher. Not even that absolute nervous wreck Quirrel portrayed had received this kind of response! And it was only going to get worse, of that he was certain. Damn Stark… damn him. He would have to publicly crack down on the boy or it would be chaos, kids thinking they could just challenge their teachers and get away with it, no, something would have to be done… something… creative.

At the very least the boy hadn't acted without reason, he thought grumpily to himself. Only the briefest jaunt through Gilderoy's mind had proven the man to be a thief and a fraud, though how Eric had figured it out Dumbledore was at a loss. The question was, what to do about it? He had hired Gildreoy in the first place because he was the only person willing to take the job after the recent rash of deaths related to the gone before a year curse Tom had left on the position, but who could he… Dumbledore's eyes widened. The Longbottoms! Eric had recently revived them to curry enough favor with Augusta and Neville to release Bellatrix from Azkaban and he was sure they would love to have the time to properly get to know their son! The old man smiled as he looked down on the blond ponce sprawled across his floor, after all, when one door closes…

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"You have got to be kidding me."

Eric dropped several feet in the air to avoid the hands moving to slap the back of his head and grinned. "C'mon Padma, this is me we're talking about" he replied as he floated on his back beneath them.

"Yes, but a dragon?" Su asked shrilly. "How could anyone, even you be irresponsible enough to help and untrained, inexperienced half-giant raise an illegal dragon this close to the school!?"

Eric looked at his hands and then back at the pair of girls "You know you're talking to a twelve year old boy, right? Of sound mind we typically are not. I may be a bit ahead of the curve as a Claw, but my thought process was still 'Cool, Dragon!' and 'how can we get away with this?' rather than "this is a bad idea, what now?' Seriously, what do you think I keep you two around for? " He finished that last part with a playful grin to let them know he wasn't trying to be hurtful with the statement.

The girls looked at each other and then said in unison "Get him." Eric's eyes grew wide and the three of them shot off, chasing each other through the threes, Eric cackling like a maniac and the pair of girls howling epitaphs behind him. Meanwhile, on the ground, Harry and Hermione were talking with Hagrid about the now 20 foot long Freya.

"Well, I sorta know how she's feelin buh thar ain no thoughts I kin recognize 'ermione." Hagrid rumbled happily as the bushy haired girl took notes. "Leas ways, no yet. I's all like thars a secun set ar feelins in de back er me head, you know? Separate, bu thar all the same."

"No, I don't know" Hermione said scribbling away on a spiral note pad "but I can imagine. Have you noticed anything different about yourself since Freya hatched?" the brunette asked, seemingly all business.

"Well, jus little things," the half giant replied shifting on his rock "I kin see an 'ear be'er, and me nose is almos too sensitive. Then thar's me fire spells Eric taught me, them's much easier since Freya been hatching." As if eager to demonstrate Hagrid cupped his hands together and a campfire popped into being just over them. Hermione nodded, her pen now a blur as it moved across the page and Hagrid continued. "'ery thin else still leave me nee'in ter think real hard on i' but fire comes easy now."

Hermione was about to continue with her questions as she looked up, but suddenly squeaked and scrambled back quickly. Harry had approached, leading Freya by a hand on the back of one of the ridgebacks neck. "She's also a lot more docile than dragons are supposed to be." Harry said, helping Hermione back to her feet. "It was a bit rough and tumble back there for a while, but she kept her fangs back and didn't press to hard when she tried to bite me."

"She tried to bite you!?" Hermione squealed, hands to her face, the notebook and pen falling to the ground.

"Well, yeah, sort of like fang does when we come down here sometimes." Harry paused "actually, a lot like fang does… that's creepy now that I think about it, 'from savage dinosaur to playful house pet, familiar taming training, take the bite out of the beast'." He said, framing his words like they'd seen Eric do on occasion. Hermione giggled nervously and retrieved her pad and pen, writing that down.

"SO! How'd you make this place? I didn't recognize it from the air and I've flown over this forest often enough since Eric made us these cloaks. I can't imagine the staff would be pleased to have you raising a dragon on school property."

"Ah, well, this area used ter be a bi o unicorn territory bu wit tha wraith thing las year them unicorns been avoidin the area. A couple o them almost died 'er you see, and they don take kinely ter tha. Bein said, I moved a few of the ward stones and brought the old dragon wards out o storage fore digging this place up. It'd taken me months but fer Eric teachin me magic. A nice sized trench for a lake and a book on healthy waters an I were able to make this place. Tha clif in cave over thar I raised meself, like pickin up a log so I could get a second cave beneath the stone cause a lot of fishes Ridgebacks like live under a hanger lik tha."

The pair of 12 year olds looked at him stunned for several minutes. "We have dragon wards?" Harry finally spoke up, voice incredulous. Hagrid laughed.

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Saturday morning the teachers had gathered in Dumbledore's office for the first weekly staff meeting of the new year, food spread out before them on small floating trays that were refilled by house elves. The trays moved eagerly around the room offering their cargo to the various inhabitants of the room and often sulking or preening as they were turned away or browsed. Dumbledore sat behind his desk calmly listening to professor Babbling talk about the temperaments of his new third years. Things continued along the other teachers until it got to Snape.

"There was something, Albus." Severus said hesitantly.

"Oh?"

"My new first year Gryffindor Slytherin class held a powerful dark presence. I couldn't pinpoint it in any of the students minds but it bears watching regardless." The sallow skinned man said.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "That's just as well, I suppose." Several of the gathered teachers looked at him in confusion. "As I'm sure you all noticed Professor Lockheart is no longer with us. After an… ah, incident, yesterday there was a school wide negative response to the man that prompted me to make a more thorough investigation of the man's dossier. It seems that Mr. Lockheart has made his reputation by stealing the achievements of better wizards and wiping their minds before writing books that substituted himself into their adventures." He left it unsaid that the man had repeated his incompetence throughout several classes. Doxies, pixies, Hinkypunk, kapa, a 'friendly' vampire', improper handling of boggarts, failing at numerous spell demonstrations… it was a wonder he hadn't been caught out some time ago.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "That being said we need a new defense teacher…" he paused smiling softly as he watched names flash through his various instructors minds "how would you feel about Frank and Alice Longbottom?" The room exploded into voices mostly ranging from surprise to confusion.

"But professor," McGonagall said, "They were raised from their coma by dark magic, are you sure you want your students exposed to such?"

"Ah, about that." The old man said, leaning forward on his desk and steepling his hands. "The story Augusta Longbottom offered about utilizing a ritual to restore her son and daughter in law by sacrificing herself in an old ritual, life for life was a lie." He smiled as everyone looked at him stunned and expectant. "The truth behind the incident is one I'm actually disappointed you didn't already suspect Minerva, given how highly you think of the boy…"

"Eric? But how? Over a decade and Saint Mungo's was still stumped…"

"The boy managed to get his hands of a fairly large quantity of Nicolas's Elixir and literally forced it down their throats."

"Nicolas?" asked Charity Burbage, the muggle studies teacher.

"Flamel." Dumbledore said, smiling behind his hands as the room reacted in a wave of shock, minus Minerva who brought her hand to the bridge of her nose and Snape who already knew.

"That boy's going to be the death of us." She muttered. "I assume he was responsible for the disappearance of the sorcerer's stone from the school basement last year?"

"That is the best theory, the note left with the replacement stone bears his humor." The silver haired ancient replied watching the rest of the room rock with the repeated revelations. Normally he would have played things like this close to the vest, but Eric had proven far too adept at evading his sight, setting the rest of the staff on him might reveal more. If the boy wanted to change the game then he would have to deal with players who were just as adaptable as himself.

"That being said, it brings us to our next order of business" Dumbledore said gravely. "I assume most of you have heard of the new sorcery club or at least noticed the distinct rise in silent and wandless magic going on in the dining hall, corridors and classes?"

"Considering the thrust of recent conversation" croaked the Care of Magical Creatures professor, Silvanus Kettleburn "this is also Eric's fault?"

"Indeed." Dumbledore nodded. "Enough students have joined the group and actively learn from it that I intend to make it an official elective. Professor Flitwick" he nodded to the tiny man, "has spent a significant amount of time familiarizing himself with the course and offered his recommendation. Unfortunately a course at this school requires a professor and I cannot in good conscious sacrifice Flitwick to take over the study so I'll be asking you all to keep an eye out for prospective professors with a suitable open mind to come and learn enough to build a proper course of study for the endeavor."

Dumbledore smiled as he saw their minds light up with possible students they thought might be useful and fought to keep a smirk from marring his features. Another level of control was building, another level of separation between Eric and his quickly building powerbase. Now, to find just the right person to mollify the boy and convince him that his class would be taught properly so that he would be willing to work under rather than counter to them. If only dealing with Tom had been this easy…

The rest of the staff meeting went rather simply after that, the various teachers had almost been done with their reports anyways and when they were done it was very nearly lunchtime. As the rest of the teachers filed out of the room Dumbledore motioned for Severus to stay behind. When the door was closed by a suspicious looking McGonagall Dumbledore turned to his potions master with a grim look.

"Eric has received a week of detentions from Professor bins and would have likely received much worse from Lockheart if the man had possessed enough sense to fill a tea cup. It seems he's taken a shining to publicly battering what he sees as substandard teachers. I'm only not suspending him because everything he's said and done has been entirely justifiable. I would like you to deal with his punishment as you seem to be one of the few he respects in a disciplinary capacity. I'd also like you to try and use the time to worm the location and status of the sorcerer's stone out of him."

Snape looked at the old man with an inscrutable expression for several minutes. "You sound as if you're sending me to spy on the dark lord again, Albus… my dislike of Black and his father aside, do you really think this is prudent?"

"Entirely. I trust you to hold your prejudice in check, but it is also your prejudice that prompts me to believe you will give the matter the proper attention. Where Tom was subtle and predictable, Eric for all his blunt instrument approach to control is mysterious and unpredictable in the extreme, something that makes him far more dangerous. I need him watched and closely, lest he take his particular brand of insanity down a dark path."

Snape nodded slowly "I was wondering why you were being so open with the rest of the staff; it was very unlike you. On that note however, are you sure about hiring Longbottom? I know they were skilled Aurors back in the day, but with the incredibly recent nature of their recovery and the dark lords curse on the position it strikes me as…unwise."

"Yes, Severus, I have indeed thought of that and made a point to mention it in my missives with the man. He's suggested quite an interesting solution to the situation. I shall hire him for the duration of the year and then he shall retire in favor of his wife. At the end of each year they intend to trade off who deals with their family responsibilities and the school. Since neither will last longer than a year the curse should be satisfied, and if not, well… the Longbottoms are trained curse-breakers and like the Potters faced Tom three times in battle and survived. I expect they shall pull through. Now, tell me, what do you think would be a suitable punishment for Mr. Starks recent behavior."

AN: I'd like to point out before you flame me on the Molly bashing, that Bill, Charlie, the twins and, at current, Percy don't hate their mother and are still on fairly good terms with her, canon and fanon, but all of them moved out as soon as they could and, for the most part, did their best to politely estrange themselves the moment they got their NEWT's. I don't know about you, but this seems like major supported unpleasantness to me, sort of an 'I love you, but familiarity breeds contempt' sort of thing. Add that to the Weasley families psyche profile done by numerous fans and detractors in the professional psychology community… I am at least trying to keep the bashing rational rather than the typical 'Molly is a blind savage with a motherly bent' thing so many writers do.