Year Four - Chapter Twenty-Three

Someone had to do something. And while Hermione campaigning for House Elves right was ludicrous, my campaign for the destruction of the House System was not. Still, if one campaigned, one ran the risk of falling into the pitfalls of Wizarding logic, of uncommon sense, and of their incredible lack of desire to change their society. Hence, the best thing was to let them be. Change didn't need to be a conscious choice. It needed to be thrust into their faces like a metal bat, and since wizards weren't the kind of people who'd fight change once it was properly set in stone, they'd adapt to it.

Thus, it was meaningless to spout words. A kind, gentle whisper would suffice. There were bonus points in manipulation if the idea actually felt like it had come from them, after all. Though I was ironically doing this for the Greater Good, I couldn't help but fear taking the wrong step and ending up like a Tom Riddle or a Gellert Grindelwald Mark Two. Hence, why I kept my political ideas to myself.

Children would be children and enjoy doing children stuff. If ever I had a need to test my manipulations, I'd do so on the adults, and only once I was an adult myself.

The battle was merely pushed back to a later date, not truly finished before it ever got started.

I was mulling those thoughts when Harry Potter arrived to interrupt my tutoring lesson with a shy first year Hufflepuff who had troubles touching the fertilizer with her bare hands. We were in Sprout's greenhouse number one, which had no dangerous species, and of which the professor had given me the key after the umpteenth student had asked for help concerning the disgust in touching fertilizer.

"If you haven't noticed, Harry, my hands are literally in shit," I remarked nonchalantly as I pressed my hands into the fertilizer, the first year's Hufflepuff whimpering as she held her breath. "Now, now," I said, looking at the girl. "You can do this, Miss Madley, it isn't hard," I squeezed her fingers against the dung. "Think of it as mud. Push the thoughts in the back of your head. Your hands are already dirty, so there's no need to worry about cleaning them."

Harry remained silent as I worked the girl into grabbing a fistful of dung, and then putting it at the base of a plant that needed it. "Once your fingers are already dirty, they can't get any more dirty than that," I continued charmingly, "So just keep at it. Don't touch your nose, keep them out of your face, and wash them thoroughly once you're done."

"It's important," Harry said, even as I raised an eyebrow in his direction, and then looked back at Madley's worried expression.

"This is important too, Harry," I said in turn. "I won't abandon a student, but nothing prohibits me from listening on to your worries too."

Laura Madley's eyes took a slightly resolute expression as she began to knead the fertilized into the dirt, massaging it. "I-I can manage now, really," she said. I gave her a grin, and then removed my hands.

I thoroughly washed them up, summoned my wand, and then proceeded to further scourgify them of the dirt and the fertilizer. "Once you're done, Miss Madley, tell me and I'll show you some useful charms on cleaning oneself after a particularly hardy Herbology lesson."

"Y-Yes sir," Madley answered, nearly stuttering the words out. She blushed, and then resumed her plant-fertilizing. She had to do the work she hadn't done during the lesson, too disgusted by it. Since I had the time to teach her afterwards, I took it.

Harry looked at the first year ever so briefly, and then back at me. "It's Sirius," he said in the end. "He wants to know if you'd like to come over for Easter."

I blinked. "I...Wait," I looked at him, "Do you want me to come for Easter?"

Harry's eyes widened ever so slightly, and then he looked away, "I-Look, he really does care about this sort of things, so he'd-"

I shook my head. "Harry," I said gently, "What do you want?"

"I bloody well don't know it," he said in the end, his green eyes locking on to mine. "You and Dumbledore look like you know all the answers, so why don't you tell me?"

I chuckled. "So...you're jealous? Doesn't really suit you," I added. Harry looked away. He bristled, perhaps catching the truth in my words yet refusing it all the same.

"What do you know about what suits or doesn't suits me? That damn Skeeter likes you," he bit his lower lip, "She said such horrible things to Sirius, got professor Lupin sacked, and you spoke with her like she was a friend!"

I exhaled, and then shook my head. "Harry," I said gently, "Miss Skeeter is a valuable contact in the Daily Prophet, and an esteemed professional journalist," I quietly looked at him, "You know what truly makes our enemy worried?" I whispered, "It's when we keep being polite to them, even after they feel they have won over us."

Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest, took a deep breath, and then looked at me straight in the eyes, "I'd rather you didn't come," he said in the end, flatly.

"Then I won't," I answered with a smile. "Tell Sirius I'm sorry, but I'll be staying at Hogwarts to work on the last part of the Triwizard Tournament."

Harry left, not another word told my way. He'd probably regret it, but be too prideful to do anything about it. It was just fine. I glanced down, then to the left, and then a bit in the air. I saw no beetles, so I reckoned the situation would be all right.

"I'm done with the homework, sir," Laura said, looking at me with a worried look, and then down at her hands. "What do I do now?"

"Now, we wash them as much as we can," I said, beckoning her closer to the tap and letting the water run by my side. "And then we learn the Tergeo and Scourgify charms."

The heartwarming moments of teaching were also replaced, sometimes, with the bloodcurling terrors of being taught. My wand in hand, I had battled grimly in the land of the Blast Ended Skrewts, and emerged victorious, though not unscathed.

"We're down to just four," Amanda gasped from relief. I gave her a curt nod, holding on to my sword bathed in the blood of the poor sheep that had been delivered as a sacrifice to the hungry swarm. Though calling four Blast-Ended Skrewts a 'swarm' was excessive, I had high hopes they'd die once the poison in the sheep's wool made its round in their bloodstream.

Nothing like sweetly promising professor Snape he'd never have to fear a Slytherin student harmed by them to get him to close an eye to a flask of poison brought out of the potions' practice hour.

"Hold the line men!" I snapped to the Hufflepuffs with their wand drawn in the direction of the enclosure, "Indirect spellcasting only! Their hides are too thick!"

One of the monstrous creatures skittered close to the dying sheep, smelling its blood, and then dug its pincers in with a ludicrous, and quite disgusting, noise.

A second soon arrived, the third and the fourth instead preferring to kill one another with stings and explosions. One of the Hufflepuffs put up a protecting cover of earth just in time, the rest cowering behind it. "Nearly there, men!" I looked at Hagrid, who was instead lost in thoughts while staring at the Beauxbatons' carriage. I was literally doing the lesson for him, while he tried to woo the woman.

Politely remarking how he had to keep the half-giant heritage a secret to avoid making her angry had gone a long way, apparently.

Still, as I swung the blade forward, an incoming stinger was deflected and sent back, a non-hungry Skrewt rather preferring to wet its pincers in the blood of fresh students. I'd prevent it, of course.

"Back to the others, foul spawn of hell!" I snarled, swishing my back to hurl rocks at it. "Back I say!"

It skittered back, shrieking and crying. I glanced at Hagrid's distracted form, and then swiftly pounced on the occasion, jabbing my wand forth and sending a jagged outburst of sharp rocks to skewer the monster from the bottom up.

"Ops, so, so sorry, was an accident," I breathed out, looking at Amanda's expression. If she had noticed, or was cross about it, she didn't show it.

We were down to three, and two more were frothing from their mouths an orange-like foam. The only one that still stood on its hind legs was grievously injured by its fellow, and as I quietly stared at the surviving classroom, we all shared an unspoken agreement.

I flicked my wand, and a large stone slammed down on its spot.

There was a whimper, and then silence.

"Wuzzat?" Hagrid asked, turning to look at the carnage in the enclosure, "No! Those poor babies!" he cried out, getting up, "What happened!?"

"They killed each other," I said quickly, "It was horrible, those poor cuties!" as I said that, those behind me had to suppress their snickers.

"Aw, shucks," Hagrid exhaled. "Gotta say they were a wee bit of an experiment anyway," he looked at the dying ones, and I quietly gave a sympathetic nod.

"Guess we should put them out of their misery," I commented.

I couldn't know what they'd precisely put into the Labyrinth, but of one thing I was sure.

It would be a cold day in hell before I allowed them to put Skrewts in there with me.

Even one Skrewt was one Skrewt too many.

They should have known better than to Skrewt with me, after all!