fandomhigh | Defense Against the Dark Arts for Muggles [Wednesday, Sept 2, 5th period]

When students entered the room on Wednesday, they'd find it looking exactly like a normal, ordinary classroom -- rows of desks facing the front, and two men standing at the front. Both were in their mid-thirties (though perhaps a bit weathered), and wearing shabby-looking long robes. However, if students looked up, they'd notice that the room's ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky outside. It was a touch of Hogwarts for their own comfort as well as students' amusement (though Remus had had to talk Sirius out of making the sky cloudy.)

Sirius's eyes never stayed still--focusing first on the students as they arrived, mentally appraising how threatening they might be, or if they betrayed any sign of recognizing his face, which had been plastered all over the wizard world for the better part of a year--but then they flickered to the window of the classroom, or the door, preparing for attack. If it seemed a little paranoid, well. He took a headcount, then nodded to Remus to begin.

Remus, who'd been smiling at the students as they entered and attempting to provide a counter to Sirius' fairly imperious figure, clapped his hands together lightly. "Good afternoon. I'm Remus Lupin, and this is Sirius Black." No one had seemed to recognize Sirius, and they couldn't very well keep his identity a secret for the entire school year. "Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts for Muggles. Now, that name may be a bit confusing to you. Allow me to explain -- Professor Black and I are both wizards, and in our culture, non-magical folk are called Muggles. We've been given to understand that while the student body here boasts a wide array of abilities and proclivities, not all of you are familiar with the use of magic. So, this class will be focusing on using whatever talents you do have -- and I don't want to hear that you don't have a defensive talent, because everyone has something -- against the evils that plague our collective world."

"Because they're out there," Sirius said firmly. "Today we'll start out simply: your name, and what you would consider a dark art." He scowled. "And no comments about dark art being sketches made with charcoal. Unlike other courses, what you learn here could very easily save your life."

He pointed to a student at random. "You. Begin."

"Oh," Remus added, holding up a hand to pause. "And would Griffin O'Connor and Merlin please see one or both of us after class? Thank you."

[co-written with

lycanthromoony!]

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"Diana Hansen." Diana said, curling one leg underneath herself on her chair.. "H-e-l-l is pretty bad." Yes, she spelled it.

"Yes, I would imagine so," Remus noted, "but having never visited myself, I can't vouch for that."

Diana snorted. "Would you be in class if you've visited? I mean, unless you're my sister's boy toy and so perfectly ...clean it should be illegal."

"Having learned that the students and faculty of this school are capable of nigh unto anything," Remus said dryly, "and your own personal testimony just now that apparently your sister's immaculate friend has visited the place and apparently is unscathed -- unless you're particularly flippant about his fate -- then I really can't say whether I'd be in class. I do know, however, that both myself and Professor Black, as well as your classmates, have endured our own horrors, so it doesn't have any bearing on whether we'd be here or not. Rather, those who have experienced hell, figuratively or, if possible, literally, need this course most of all."

Yeah, it was wordy, but Remus figured it was better he handle this one than Sirius.

Diana shrugged. "He's unscathed. Still irons his underwear." That was pretty much agreement with all of that in Diana speak.

"Ironing, or any kind of return to a daily routine, doesn't mean you're entirely unscathed," Remus said with a small smile.

Diana shrugged. "With him? It probably does."

"Then would you count his visit as a dark art, or something to be combatted?" Remus asked. "Is there a reason he fared as well as he did, or is hell less something fearsome and more mythos? You seem to be rather unconcerned with the outcome of this trip of his," which was, honestly, a touch worrisome, "so I have to wonder why you count hell as a dark art if it's something so casual to you."

"I try not to worry too much. Plus, It knows when you're worried about It so that just gives It opportunity." Diana pointed out. "It was almost a dark art, because an evil Keeper was trying to sacrifice someone - she wasn't very picky and it turned out I'd make a very bad sacrifice - to It to give herself power and stuff. And since he did the whole 'noble sacrifice' thing and was so pure of heart, It just spat him right back out."

The repeated use of "it" in Diana's reply reminded Sirius a bit of the wizarding world's use of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. "I'll bet he didn't know that at the time," he replied, voice a little tetchy. He'd known far too many people who'd made a noble sacrifice and hadn't gotten a get out of hell free card.

At least He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named never started a running commentary in your head. Or had multiple-personality disorder. Diana's world was weird. "He didn't. My sister did." There was a half beat of a pause before Diana tacked on her last sentence. "I didn't."

Defense Against the Dark Arts for Muggles [Wednesday, Sept 2, 5th period]

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