…and finally, as I'm sure you all could guess, on Fridays, we'll be going on field trips.

"Which brings us to our final topic on the syllabus."

Chapter 7

Harry leaned forward, focusing his full attention on the professor. He could vaguely remember going on field trips in primary, but they were few and far between- mostly consisting of trips to the local park when he was very young, and one trip each to the local fire and police stations in later years.

The only 'trips' he could think of going on since entering Hogwarts included exploring Hogwarts's grounds and the occasional weekend trek to Hogsmeade. The latter fit the criteria of 'field trip' better than the former, but the description still wasn't quite right; Hogsmeade was practically located in Hogwarts's backyard, after all, and you could only explore the same four shops so many times before the whole thing became tedious. Traipsing through the forbidden forest might never be boring, but he'd hardly call those outings leisurely, or even fun; an adventure and a half, certainly, but he'd be as mad as the Prophet portrayed if he was willing to classify those trips along the same lines as that of a field trip.

So, while Hogwarts would always be home, Harry couldn't help but feel stifled, surrounded by the same thing year after year. Field trips sounded like a wonderful change of pace- and a blessedly normal one, at that.

Evidently, his classmates felt similarly as their eager postures mirrored his own. Professor Muto huffed a laugh at the sight.

"I'm happy that you're all so excited, but keep in mind that these trips are meant to enhance your education- they're not just a fun way to waste class time," the professor's lips twitched again as some of the students gave him sheepish looks, "Of course, that doesn't necessarily mean that these trips will have anything to do with whatever we're learning that week. In fact, it's very likely that they'll have nothing at all to do with our current lessons.

"There are a few places that I think would present a very valuable learning experience for all of you, so I'll set aside some Fridays in order to make time for those, but for the most part, these field trips are the primary tool we'll be using to take a closer look at the careers you're interested in." The class brightened at this (not that Harry could blame them- there were lots of Wizarding careers that had the potential to inspire field trips that would be plenty interesting, even if they had to be educational at the same time).

"This disconnect from our lessons is the reason I wanted each of you to write a paper that pertains solely to the field trips, rather than tying them back to class.

"Though these trips are different from your occasional weekend visit to Hogsmeade in that they will be completely supervised and are for educational purposes rather than leisure," his tone was slightly teasing as he reiterated the second point, "a signed permission form is still required in order to attend them. Your guardians were already informed about this through letters the school sent out last week."

Harry tried to ruthlessly crush the disappointment he could feel building in his chest. Sirius (Dumbledore had to have given the form over to him, right? The Dursleys certainly wouldn't have signed anything) hadn't said anything to him about signing a form. 'I can just write him if I need to.' He decided, attempting to ignore the niggling feeling in the back of his mind, trying to remind him just how well that strategy had been going for him barely a month ago.

"Before any of you start to worry, each of you have been given permission for the first two trips of the year." Professor Muto's kind voice cut through Harry's rising anxiety. Harry fought not to react past giving a small sigh of relief, echoed around the room by his classmates.

"Why just the first two?" Ron cut in before the professor could continue.

Professor Muto smiled patiently despite the interruption, "The Headmaster and I have agreed that it would be best for each individual trip to require separate permission, considering the fact that each one will be to someplace entirely new. The form the school sent out to your guardians will list every trip we go on this year, along with some information about each destination, and will require the recipient to check off that they are either granting or withholding their permission for each trip. Of course, until I see the results for that survey, even I can't be sure which destinations each class will benefit the most from, so, currently, the form your guardians have only lists out our first two trips- a couple of those places I mentioned earlier that I felt would be beneficial for everyone, regardless of potential career interest. By scheduling them for the first two Fridays of the year, your guardians will be able to look over the list of destinations once it's finished without worrying about any of you missing a trip because they weren't able to grant their permission in time," he explained, and then shifted the conversation slightly once Ron indicated he understood the reasoning.

"I understand that several students have guardians who are not integrated into the Wizarding world," he said, catching their waning attention, "Because of this, and the fact that abstaining from these trips could very well affect your grade or future career choices, the Headmaster has already given me permission to make house calls as your professor if any guardian withholds permission or leaves the form blank so that I can listen to any concerns- and hopefully sway their opinion on the matter." He added with a cheeky wink.

Hermione was the one to interrupt this time (though it obviously pained her to do so), "What if our parents still say no? And would the student in question be able to accompany you to those house calls?"

Professor Muto turned his attention to her. "The answer to your second question will be on a case to case basis. If a student wishes to come with me, we would need to schedule a meeting with the Headmaster to discuss it, as he is the only person who can give a student permission to leave the school." He addressed the class as a whole again when she nodded.

"As for your first question, Ms. Granger, students are not required to participate in the field trips themselves. So, even if you are unable to participate in any of the trips, your grade will not immediately be affected. In fact, the actual trips are being considered a privilege that can be taken away for disciplinary reasons if necessary. However, you are required to submit a paper about the subject of each trip, so not attending will mean extra work on your part." The professor raised his voice slightly in order to be heard over the squawks of outrage coming from several students at that piece of information.

"If you are unable to participate, I will give you some materials so that you can do your own research into the subject," the squawks subsided into quiet grumbling, causing the professor to chuckle quietly. "Obviously, this method is somewhat lacking compared to the hands-on experience of visiting the location yourself and getting firsthand accounts of what a career in that field is like from the people working there. Because of this, if you miss a trip, the required length of the paper I will expect from you on Monday will be doubled." He smiled sympathetically at the groans. "All of this information was included in the letter your guardians received, so I don't anticipate permission being withheld too often. Rest assured, I'll do everything I can to make sure you all get to experience these trips." The professor's smile turned impish once more. "And if you don't believe my goodwill, at least believe that I don't really want the extra work of grading longer papers," he said, earning some laughter from the class, which he allowed to dissipate before leveling them all with a very serious look.

"Now, I want you all to listen very closely to what I'm about to say. This is the last, and most important, thing you need to know about the field trips." Professor Muto waited until the majority of the class had nodded at him, "The places we will be visiting are not playgrounds. In many of these environments, even a stray spark of magic can have serious consequences. In a magical menagerie such as a dragon reserve, a spark could cause the creatures to fly into a rage. For a profession such as warding or curse-breaking, it could set off a deadly chain reaction. Even in a seemingly innocuous setting such as the Ministry of Magic, any magic aimed- purposefully or accidentally- at a Lord, Lady, or any kind of dignitary can be seen as an attack, and that person would be legally allowed to have you arrested." He paused again, letting his words sink in. Harry leaned forward as he felt his anticipation (or was that dread?) build.

"As such, I will be confiscating each of your wands before we leave, and you will not be allowed them back until we return to the castle."

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No one made a sound. It was possible that the class as a whole had even stopped breathing.

"Now," the professor sighed with the air of a man calmly walking towards the gallows, and sounded like he was already regretting the question "does anyone have any questions on the syllabus?"

The room erupted with noise as all the students began talking over each other, steadily getting louder until they were practically shouting. Harry, though, could barely hear them due to the ringing in his ears. He felt vaguely as though he was dreaming, or maybe as though he was floating, but extremely detached either way (shock, Hermione would later explain to him). The sensation reminded him of the second task last year, when he had dived below the lake and was abruptly cut off from the outside world, along with a fair few of his senses. At the thought of the tournament (helpless, tied to a gravestone and without his wand, Cedric, Voldemort), the ringing in his ears turned into more of a rushing noise, the floaty feeling being replaced with a noxious mix of rage and panic. The classroom was still in chaos around him, the students definitely yelling now.

And through it all, the professor was still wearing that blasted gentle, patient look as he waited them out. It was impressive, and slightly intimidating (and ok, he'd never admit it, but maybe it was even a little bit reassuring), but more than anything, it was infuriating. 'What were they going to do if Death Eaters or, worse, Voldemort attacked them?'

The noise in his ears had finally gone quiet. No, wait, that was the classroom, and his year mates were all looking at him now.

Behind him, Seamus let out a loud scoff. "Will you come off it, Potter? People have better things to worry about than your boogeyman campaign," he sneered.

And, oh. Apparently, he had said his question aloud. Or, rather, shouted it.

At least the panic had begun to leave him. As his mind focused in on what Seamus was saying, however, the rage remained, and began to simmer.

"Boogeyman campaign, huh?" He jeered back. "So what, according to you and your dear pals at the ministry, Cedric dropped dead of his own accord, did he?" His voice grew harsh, "Or maybe you think I killed him? I suppose you lot believe me unhinged enough for that, don't you?!"

"Oh yeah, because the tournament wasn't known for having a death toll." Seamus shot back. "Or are you going to try and convince us that You-Know-Who, what? Faked his death at the height of his power after a duel with a one-year-old and went into hiding for over a decade, only to enact his 'master plan', which hinged on him somehow convincing- without revealing himself, mind you- three separate schools in different countries to revive a tournament that had been banned over two hundred years ago because of- what was it again? Oh, right. The death toll." He was practically spitting his words into Harry's face at this point.

"And what even was the master plan, anyway? Kill a random, pureblood, seventeen-year-old who had enough skill to be chosen for the tournament on his own merit, but leave alone the fourteen-year-old version of the kid that defeated him so that he could spread the word of his return and cause mass panic before enacting the next stage of his grand plan, which is apparently disappearing off into hiding again. What, is he waiting another decade to have another miraculous return where he'll secretly show up at the minister's office when he's alone in order to thumb his nose at him, before disappearing again so that he can lie in wait for the next opportunity to commit such evil deeds?!" Seamus was breathing hard now, his voice borderline hysterical.

Harry was fairly certain his teeth were starting to creak from how hard he was clenching his jaw. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but was cut off before he could do more than take a breath as his and Seamus's wands flew out of their hands (when had they gone for them?) and towards the professor, who caught them deftly.

"That. Is. Enough." Professor Muto interrupted them in a tone that brooked no argument whatsoever (and was it Harry's imagination, or were the lights in the room getting brighter, even as the shadows dimmed?).

Harry turned to face the professor, ready to continue his argument even if it wasn't with the person he had started it with (he refused to acknowledge the voice in the back of his mind that asserted he was not truly this angry, that he could actually see where Seamus was coming from if he stopped to consider it, that he was actually just looking for a way to vent several weeks' worth of frustration and didn't want to stop now that he'd started), but stopped upon seeing the expression on the man's face. While it could certainly be considered stern, the adjective didn't seem to truly capture the intensity and power behind it. 'Regal' was the word his mind supplied, and Harry found it fit quite well.

For all that Hermione had insisted the title was arbitrary a few days ago, at that moment Professor Muto looked every inch a king.

'And not a very happy one,' Harry thought, beginning to regret losing his temper.

Professor Muto continued in the same tone, "I'll say this now: I will not stand for any sort of ridicule in my class. Quite frankly, I will not stand for it outside of my class, either, but I realize I have little control over the behavior you choose to indulge in when not under supervision." Harry tried to convince himself that the burning feeling in his stomach was still anger, rather than the beginnings of hot shame.

"In this class, we will have discussions nearly every day; I expect every one of you to listen to and respect each other's thoughts and opinions, no matter the subject. If someone believes their source of information to be more reliable than the one you cite, you will listen to their reasoning. If someone believes a piece of legislation is poorly conceived and should be changed, you will listen to their thoughts on the matter. If someone declares themselves to be the next dark lord, you will listen to what they have to say." His eyes sharpened as he said this, quelling the outraged looks almost instantly.

"If anything truly gets out of hand, I will be the one to deal with it as your professor. I am not saying you cannot disagree with each other. I am not saying you cannot offer counterpoints to something someone says. I am saying that any insults, fighting, or derisive language will not be tolerated. You will be civil towards each other, or you will not be welcome in this classroom. Is that understood?" He swept his gaze over the class, addressing the question to all the students.

"Yes, professor." They chorused dutifully, though there was a sullen undertone in both Harry and Seamus's voices, something Harry once more regretted as the professor's eyes zeroed in on them.

"Secondly, I find it abhorrent that either of you would even think to diminish someone's death into nothing more than a point in an argument. Not only is that extremely disrespectful, it's dehumanizing." He interrupted again when they began to defend themselves, "I don't care what happened that night, and certainly not how well you think it illustrates your point. Cedric Diggory was a human being; a young man whose friends and family are still grieving for him, not a character you are citing in an essay. Do I make myself clear?" The professor kept his eyes trained on Harry and Seamus this time, awaiting their response rather than the class's.

"Yes, professor." There was markedly more remorse in their voices as they answered.

Professor Muto regarded them for a moment before nodding. "Good." His expression softened slightly, as did his tone. "I know I sound harsh, but life and humanity are two things that should never be taken for granted. Once you do, you've taken the first step down a very slippery slope. I've had friends who have done just that and gone straight into a tailspin. Sometimes, this meant being incredibly reckless with their own lives, sometimes it meant being so dismissive of other people's lives they would start treating people as little more than commodities- someone could have been murdered in front of them and I truly think they wouldn't have felt anything but annoyance about the inconvenience to their schedule-, sometimes both. Believe me, it wasn't easy to snap them out of it." As he spoke, the professor's features and voice continued to gentle until they once more held their usual kind undertones. "I'd like to keep the lot of you as far away from that slope as possible. And I hope none of you think I'm overstepping my role as your professor by doing so." Professor Muto's expression made it clear that this was more question than statement.

"No, professor," the students replied more quietly than before, but no less sincerely.

"Good," Professor Muto said again in a much warmer tone and with an amiable smile that lightened the atmosphere considerably.

"Now, as to your question, Mr. Potter," -Harry startled slightly, having almost forgotten what had started the argument and subsequent lecture-, "You don't need to worry. I take your and every other student's safety very seriously. If anything or anyone decides to attack you on my watch, they'll come to regret it very quickly and very dearly." The professor reassured them.

Neville spoke up hesitantly, "Er, but sir." He averted his eyes slightly when Professor Muto turned to him and was holding very still, as if to keep from fidgeting while presenting his- albeit mild- criticism to the new professor. "You can't possibly watch out for all of us at the same time if something does happen…?"

The professor smiled at him encouragingly as he trailed off. "You're right,"- the students blinked at him, nonplussed- "Though I'd likely be able to pull off a one-man stand with a good amount of luck, it would certainly be tricky. I'd rather not try it if I can help it, though." He chuckled at their confused stares.

Parvati spoke up next, "So is another teacher going to come along then, or something?"

The professor raised his hand, his smile beginning to turn mischievous, "Or something." He said as he poised his fingers to snap. "I'll be asking some of my summons to help me keep an eye on you all."

"...Summons?" Hermione hazarded when he paused.

Harry grew faintly alarmed as Professor Muto's amused smirk turned somewhat predatory.

"Summons." He confirmed as he snapped his fingers, the sound echoing unnaturally around the room.

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I live! Barely, but I live! Sorry, guys. Life was rough there for a while.

Yugi keeps trying to start a friendship cult without my permission, and I'm not sure how much longer I can keep him from doing it. He's already made me write in a friendship speech.

Editing this was a nightmare. I kept looking back on what I wrote and realizing I'd used the same word as a descriptor five or six times within two paragraphs. I used the word 'trip' so much, it started to sound weird in my head whenever I read it, so I had to go over each sentence it was in about five times to make sure everything was fine, which of course just made the sentences sound weird to me. I tried to change it out as often as I could, but since 'trip' was usually referring to 'field trip' and not the actual definition of the word in and of itself, changing it would have been comparable to saying 'field excursion', 'field journey', 'field outing', etc. which just doesn't work at all. *sigh* Anyway, because of that, I'm giving everyone full permission to go Grammar Nazi on this chapter since I literally can't tell if anything makes sense anymore.

Also, I finally got around to creating an AO3 account. So for anyone who likes that format better, I'll be cross-posting there.

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Omake:

Seamus: "What, is he waiting another decade to have another miraculous return where he'll secretly show up at the minister's office when he's alone in order to thumb his nose at him, before disappearing again so that he can lie in wait for the next opportunity to commit such evil deeds?!"

Harry, confidently: "Of course not! He doesn't have a nose!"