Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Harry Potter and The Mind
Chapter 11 - DADA, Oh Mama!
Monday, November 4, 1996
Harry had left the first brigade meeting, because he knew it wasn't really a training session in the first place. The first meeting was to satisfy the curiosity of some folks, and to get them thinking about what they wanted to do. Did they want to fight to protect themselves? Did they want to run and hide? Did they want to attack people for the Dark?
Likewise, he had not hung around the common room either. Not because he was shunning anybody, but because he wanted to give them time to come up with questions and ideas on their own. He didn't want to be King of Magic, and he wasn't about to put himself in a position where people starting thinking of him as such. He was also not willing to be heralded as the new sheriff in town, taking responsibility for protecting the whole wizarding world. Utter bull, thought Harry. They all need to stop crying for help and pick up a rock.
Sitting at the Gryffindor table that morning, he made small talk with his housemates. He had double Defense that morning, and wasn't sure whether he should be looking forward to it or not. The new DADA teacher, Professor Dierdre Lipharvest, was sitting at the staff table pretending not to watch him.
Harry had always thought Dierdre was a pretty name, even though in this case he wouldn't be able to use it. She looked to be about twenty-four or -five, with fair complexion, light honey-brown hair tied into a French braid, and intense eyes. He couldn't tell from this distance what color they were, but he could definitely tell they were surreptitiously checking him out. Dumbledore probably told her I needed taking down a peg, he thought. Hmph.
Even from across the Great Hall, he could tell one more thing: she was a major looker. Under her teachers' robes, which hung open in the front in the traditional manner, she was wearing aone-piece jumpsuit, obviously built for working out. A suit that was so unforgiving in its revelations could only be supported and carried off by a body that was fit and muscular, as well as being... stacked. It did not escape Harry's notice that the suit was well-supported. And a couple other things were well-supported as well.
After his solitary training, however, there was no outward indication of his appraisal that anyone could have picked up on. The greatest legilimancer in the world would have detected absolutely no reaction at all to her arresting beauty. Finishing his coffee and putting down the paper, he stood, seeing the eyes of the entire hall upon him.
Turning to the front of the hall and flourishing his staff, he inclined his head to the new professor; a sardonic grin lifting one corner of his mouth. He didn't wait to see any reaction, but stepped lightly through the doors and into the hall, to get ready for his new class.
***
"Good morning, class," came the rich voice of Professor Lipharvest. "As I announced last week, we are going to continue with our golem work." There was a shuffle of noise as the students got restive. "Today's shield is the aegis, and today's attacks are erverbero and infligo. Line up again like we did last week, and I'll get the golems going so we can get started."
Harry was pleased that she hadn't singled him out for some kind of special attention at the beginning of class, although he was also aware that she was watching him quite closely. She was apparently trying to trip him up using spells that were not taught until sixth year, thinking that he hadn't attended and would have to ask. The class was forming into four lines, facing toward a wall where four golems stood silently. He surveyed the task.
The golems were the normal student training model; canvas skin filled with sawdust, grommet eyes, a wand-stick permanently affixed to the 'hand', and a wooden skeleton. Enchanted properly, they could move in a manner very much like that of a human, since its skeleton was the same general configuration. If it caught you, it would deliver a considerable wallop to motivate you to move the next time. Apparently, these had been upgraded to include the ability to cast a limited number of spells.
Letting go of the fifth golem, Professor Lipharvest turned back to the students. "Very well, class; this should be agood warm-up. Like last week, each of you gets ten seconds to cast. Then you shall hear me call 'next', and you'll go back to the end of your line. We'll repeat through the lines until I tell you to stop. Ready?" Most of the class nodded to her. "Begin."
Harry watched Parvati, who was first in his line. He watched her movement, her aura showing her intent, and the flavor of each spell she cast. He noticed the golems were casting the same spells as the students. The Latin words were child's play to Harry, who could now converse in Latin for hours (as well as many other languages including Urdu, Finnish, and Flemish). Okay, 'aegis' is shield, 'erverbero' and 'infligo'mean 'to hit'. Punching spells, Iimagine. His idea was confirmed when he saw Dean Thomas connect with one, knocking the golem down.
"Next," called the teacher, and the first rank moved to the rear. There was quite a bit of friendly banter going on during the exercise, which told Harry this was a familiar start to aMonday morning.
Eventually, it was Harry's turn. He stepped up to the line and raised his wand toward the dummy, feeling slightly foolish. He had hardly used his wand at all since the late summer. "Aegis," he spoke, and a bright golden shield popped into place around him. The golem in front of him tried to cast a spell, but it reflected off his shield. Following up as instructed, Harry said, "Infligo." He hadn't said it very loud, but the golem flew to the other end of the room and split open against the far wall, spilling sawdust.
"Stop," called Lipharvest. "Mr. Potter," she said, walking -- no, sashaying -- over to stand in front of him. "How did you do that?" She had a light in her eyes, signifying that she really wanted to know.
"Your pardon, Professor," said Harry, bowing slightly. "My spell was a bit stronger than your golem was prepared to face."
"No, that's not what I mean, Mr. Potter. Your shield is still in place. How did you cast your bludgeoning spell at all? It's not supposed to be possible!"
He hadn't foreseen this. Even though she had not made an effort to single him out, and the class had accepted him without much comment, he had still managed to stand out. Like aturd in the punch bowl, he thought. Just like always. May as well make use of it.
"Begging your pardon, Professor, but what damn fool told you that?"
She wasn't acting, he saw. She was genuinely shocked to have seen the impossible. She couldn't have been more aghast if Harry had stepped up, twisted his left earlobe, and squirted pumpkin juice in bright orange arcs out of both nipples.
"Mr. Potter... what you just did... I don't know of anyone who was ever able to do that. I know I can't."
"Professor, with respect, as long as anyone believes they can't, they're right. They can't." Harry wasn't being disrespectful, just reporting.
"Then..." she was having trouble, and it looked like she was getting very excited. "Then could you show us how you did that?"
Harry thought for a moment. This was a chance to make a good impression. "Okay, everyone; gather around please. Do you all use visualization for your spells? No? Okay, when you cast a spell, are you just shouting words, or do you have a picture in your mind of what is going to happen?" He waited amoment, but got no reply. "Okay, Iwant you to try something. Everybody cast the lumos spell. Just do it, right now."
He lit his own wand to set an example. Of all the wands in the room, only the professor's wasn't part of the light. Soon, the room was filled with sticks with glowing tips.
"Good. Now stop the light." He heard thirty voices whisper, 'nox'. "Now keep your wands in the same place they're in now, and close your eyes. I want you to picture, in your mind, an imaginary event. Picture yourself casting the light spell and creating a light so bright it feels like the sun on your face. The brightest light spell you've ever done. Just imagine it... picture in your mind how bright it'll be."
Silent for about fifteen seconds, he then spoke, very quietly. "Now, keep your eyes closed, and while you keep them closed, I want you to cast the light spell again." Thirty voices strongly said, 'lumos!'. "Now, open your eyes." The group did, and immediately tried to shut them again. The light was so bright, that it hurt.
"See? There is no special trick to it, except your own ideas. Don't just holler at the stick in your hand. See, in your mind, what you want to happen; and use what you learned to make it happen. I bet Neville can do it. Right, Nev?" He smiled at his Gryffindor roommate.
"Er... I'll give it a go, Harry."
Neville stepped up to the firing line. The rest of the students moved around to get a good view of what was going to happen. The Gryffs, because they wanted to see it; and the Slytherins because they wanted to be able to make fun of Neville if he failed.
"Right, go ahead and cast your shield, Nev," Harry instructed. Neville's /aegis/shield appeared, quite strong. "Good. How leave it there, and close your eyes." The other boy did so. "Picture your spell going through the shield. You're not trying to make one spell overpower the other; they have nothing to do with each other. Your bludgeoner is just going to go right through, as if the shield isn't there. Ready?" Neville nodded. "Then go ahead."
"Infligo!" shouted Neville. His spell hit the golem solidly, raising alittle sawdust to show where the blow had hit.
"Bravo!" shouted Harry, clapping. Most of the rest of the class joined in and applauded him.
Professor Lipharvest slithered over to Harry again. "Would you mind helping the rest of the class today, Mr. Potter?" she said. Her voice was positively oozing charm; and her aura was making it blazingly obvious to Harry that she intended to stay close to him -- and that there was more to it.
Speaking up for the class, he announced, "Everybody else wanna give it ago?" He got a very positive reaction. The Slytherins weren't about to be shown up by a Gryffindor. And the Gryffindors were a bit stung because Neville Longbottom had shown them up. They all lined up again, going through the exercise with a new purpose.
Professor Lipharvest was quite caught up in the new skill. Instead of breaking off the drill at the end of the first period of double Defense, she had her students experimenting to see what other spells they could get through the /aegis/shield. As it turned out, just about every student there could get a /stupefy/spell through their own /protego/. Confidence was high, and the students of Harry's Sixth Year all showed an aptitude for it -- as Harry had known they would.
"Alright, students," said Professor Lipharvest, clapping her hands. "I think we'll all agree that was a lot of fun. We have about five minutes left, so let's get ready to go. If three or four of you would be so kind as to help put away the equipment...? Ah, thank you."
She stepped over the Harry and grabbed his elbow, saying in a much lower voice,"Harry, would you mind staying around after the others leave? I'd like to have a little chat." She was looking up at him from hooded eyes, which suited Harry right down to the ground.
"Certainly, Professor," he replied. He returned to his desk to wait. He had nothing to pack, as he had brought nothing with him to the class except his wand.
The lively mood of the class stayed with everyone as they began to file out of the room. There was a little time before lunch began in the Great Hall, which gave students time to get back to their dorms and drop off the books before lunch. In short order, Harry was alone in the room with the new Defense professor.
Waving her wand, she cast locking and silencing charms on the door, to ensure they wouldn't be disturbed. Untying her thick hair and fluffing it with her hands, she walked closer to Harry -- if movement that slinky could be called 'walking'. "Harry, I'm very glad you stayed," she said to him, her voice husky with what sounded like desire.
She stopped one pace from him. The nipples of her firm, round breasts were pushing out through the material of her workout uniform -- a uniform that wasn't hiding much of anything. She was looking at him from under her brows again, standing with one hip shot out, as if daring him to do something. "You really are something, aren't you, young man?"
Being sixteen years old, Harry was nearly overwhelmed by what was the most overt come-on he'd ever been on the receiving end of. This incredible curvy woman, with her athletic body and honey-brown hair was within arms' reach... and she's offering herself to me, he thought. Then he looked at her; really looked. And he saw. What he saw froze any thoughts of warm femaleness right from his mind, and left only coldness; with a kernel of anger and disgust at the center.
He kept his mask in place. I need to confuse her for a moment, Harry thought. "Well, Professor... Dierdre," he said, watching her brighten. "You have most pleasantly wibbled my frussock-pouch, without doubt." There, that's the confused expression I need to see on her face. Lifting his right hand, he said, "One moment... Dierdre." He reached slowly, as if he were going to caress her face. "You seem to have something... in..." Closer to her face, until he was close enough to touch a finger to her temple. "...your mind." His touch at her temple was just the distraction he needed; it took her concentration away from herself long enough for him to do what he needed...
Forty one seconds later, Professor Lipharvest awoke. She reposed in a comfortable armchair, leaning back, with a cool wet cloth against her forehead. "Um... Mr. Potter, I'm..." she began, trying to sit forward.
Harry's hand stopped her by holding the compress against her head. "Just rest for a few more seconds, Professor. The dizziness will pass momentarily."
"But... I think..."
"Professor," began Harry. "Do you remember what we were doing just before you lost consciousness?" The beautiful teacher sat for a few seconds, brow furrowed in thought, before her visage contorted. "Oh... Mr. Potter..." her voice was quavering. He could see she was about to have a major attack of the shames.
"Before you go too far in that direction, I want you to see something. Look here, please," he said. When she looked up, he moved his hand to cause a color hologram appear. It was aperfect likeness of her head, complete with the aura precisely as he had seen it. Pointing to a pale yellow speck behind the left ear of the floating head, he asked, "Do you see this? This little speck of yellow light here?" He waited for her nod before continuing.
"This yellow speck is the only external indication of the geas that was laid upon you, Professor."
He saw her eyes widen. "A geas?"
"It's a very old kind of magic, used by Celtic Druids before the time of the Romans. It's a compulsion charm, Professor." She gasped and tried to get up again, obviously about to speak -- but was stopped again by Harry's hand. "Please don't get up for afew more moments. You really do need to hear the rest of this."
Harry continued. "It's much older than the Imperius. I didn't know it was ageas at first; I just knew it was something that didn't belong. I traced it through your aura, like this." He gestured, and the hologram zoomed in until the point of view had entered the brain. Within, there was a larger yellow blotch, about the size of a British one-pound coin. "But that's not all, look here," he said. Just below the pale yellow blotch was an irregular purple spot.
"What is that?" she asked.
"That, dear Professor, is a memory charm. You have been very skillfully mind-diddled."
"But, who would do such a thing to me? I haven't been here long enough to make any enemies!" She was quite earnest, but the worst for her was yet to come.
Harry waved his hand and the floating head image disappeared; replaced by some floating graphs and numbers. It was agraph of complicated magic, floating in front of them -- not in three dimensions, but in /four/. Over time, you could observe the movement of the parts; time being the fourth dimension of measurement. He carefully pointed out each point in the calculation, and explained to her how each part related to each other part. With each part, her expression lost a little shame and gained a lot of plain old righteous indignation.
"That... that's just wrong!"
"I know, Professor. That's the kind of wrong I've been dealing with for sixteen years. Will you help me to fix this situation?"
"Let me call the aurors, Mr. Potter," said the pretty teacher. He stood back and offered a hand, bringing her to stand in front of him. "Please, Harry; let me call them."
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