A Conversation

Ebon was bored. Professor Mercanti kept trying to get him to sell or give him the runic formula for his music-array, Fillius was on the other end of the table, and Slughorn was flapping his tongue around talking about 'precious students with great potential' and all manner of garbage. Slughorn was a rather strange man, all said, and he didn't exactly like interacting with him, as he felt like a groomer all said and done.

Ebon was more concerned with his coming pitch towards the School Board, although he imagined it wasn't going to be as difficult as he imagined. Remedial Classes over the Summers and Breaks wouldn't really be so costly, with not many students volunteering for such a service, Hogwarts was effectively maintained by free labor of House Elves, and he'd refuse pay if he needed to. He was more concerned about prides and egos getting ruffled with him stating that the standard of Hogwarts' education had fallen so far as to need remedial classes.

There wasn't really anything he could do about old people getting their panties in a twist, and if he had to, he'd bribe people, but he'd try poking them about the issue and see where that went. He'd already gotten Albus' permissions, the old man rather enthused about the offered classes, thanking him for his outstanding service to help the students succeed. He'd seen that his presence and classes had his peers adjust their own classes with similar workloads, and he'd had plenty of late-night conversations with Minerva and Fillius, talking over their respective classroom teaching styles; and if there was something either of them liked from one another's methods, then they wouldn't raise a fuss about the copy-cat.

It was a delicate balance, as the students had a plethora of classes, and giving them too much work would drown and overwhelm them. However, putting on some pressure and testing where that limit was, was the duty of an educator.

Tapping his finger idly, his eyebrow rose as he spotted a student walking to his seat. "Professor Kampf." He smiled a bit at the little nickname.

"Miss Black." He noted, "Can I help you?"

The young woman gave a hesitant nod, rather strange to see such nerves on the consistently domineering and hyper-competitive woman. "I'd like to talk to you about the rumored Remedial Classes."

A smile broke on his face, and he stood from his chair, "Have you finished eating, Miss Black?"

"I have." She confirmed hesitantly.

"Good, walk with me, would you?" Rounding the table, he joined Miss Black and walked out of the Great Hall. "Are you in need of Remedial Lessons, Miss Black?" He asked softly as they walked in the silent halls.

The young woman frowned, "Need? Not likely. Want? Yes." She stated.

He smiled, "A good answer. You're one of my highest preforming Sixth Years, only beaten out by advanced Arithmancy students within Ravenclaw, and my hope for them within practicals is void and null." He admitted. "There are few students that have the drive and intelligence to have reached the level of performance within your year. Especially considering you've achieved such with subpar education." Ebon complimented, enjoying the slight blush that rose on her cheeks. "If you continue with this, you'll graduate with Exceeds Expectations in DADA, and I'll certainly help you achieve your NEWTs. Truthfully, as one of my brightest students, I'm confused as to why you'd think you require remedial lessons."

Yet, as he mentioned the failing standards of education, Bellatrix frowned. "My passions…" She whispered, "I've always wanted to be a duelist. It was the only thing that I truthfully looked at as reasonable or possible with my skillset. I just…don't want to be another Potions Master, and with my family…" She frowned deeply, thinking about the looming marriage contract that held her hand.

"I'm not too familiar with British house politics, and I assume being a Duelist comes with a certain level of prestige." Ebon questioned lightly.

Bellatrix nodded.

Ebon frowned, "Truthfully, you are one of my rough-cut gems, Miss Black. Your mind and drive are perfect for my classes, and I'd love to have you in my Remedial studies; not to mention my NEWTs. Although, I wonder if you are seeking even greater heights?"

Bellatrix blushed in embarrassment at being caught out, and the various complements, before she nodded, "I'd like to be your Apprentice." She stated.

"And where does that ambition go, Miss Black?" He asked.

Bellatrix blinked, confused.

"Where do you wish to see yourself in life? Throw away all the restraints and expectations of others. Where does Bellatrix Black, a young woman with a brilliant mind and a grit to become a powerful and dangerous Witch, want to go in life? You stated you'd like to enter the Dueling Circuits; well, congratulations, you're now the reigning champion of the greatest league or tournament; recognized worldwide as the fiercest witch in Europe. What now?"

Bellatrix blinked, a frown falling on her face as she tried to think. She found herself floundering. She remembered her Housemate's invitations to the Knights of Walpurgis, of political movements that would decide the fate of her nation; but did she truly want to leap into such things? Ted was a Muggleborn, but she'd admit to herself that he was an intelligent man, and she'd be blind to not see he wasn't sweet on Andromeda. Mature for his age, worldly, somewhat handsome. If it wasn't for his blood, then she'd be teasing them nonstop, and she wanted to; but the political climate within her own house, with her parents and their views opposing the direction Britain was shifting made that impossible.

She felt like she was trapped.

"Y'know, I was in your position not too long ago. I'd just finished obtaining my Masteries, something I did more as a testament to my pride and a gauge of my achievements more than any social motive. I did not obtain them for financial, social, or political gain, merely just an appeasement to my ego, in truth. I was lost, adrift without a goal or end in sight." Ebon sighed, "During my attainment of my Masteries, I wasn't truthfully focusing on obtaining them; but more the knowledge and practical benefits that I obtained from learning the magic. I've invented a half-dozen separate magical metals, cracked the Greek's recipe for creating Orichalcum, and have written a good dozen high-level books that would reshape academia for centuries to come." He gave a bitter smile, "I learned the moment I received my masteries that the peak was lonely. Thankfully, Madam Marchbanks threw in a half-hearted jab; a job catalog." He gave her a bitter smile. "I found a calling, and while I'll admit its not the end-all-be-all -for nothing ever is- I'm content for now."

Ebon fixed the young woman with a firm look, "As your educator, when I look at you, I see your wings restrained. It honestly hurts, for all I see is wasted potential; so much so that I want to bang down Albus' door and thrash the man till his bones are jelly." He shook his head, "An education effectively ruined, sullying a brilliant mind, and the expectations and chains of greater society pulling you every which way. How right am I?"

Bellatrix swallowed, and her silence spoke for itself.

Ebon let out a despondent sigh, but moved on from the topic he honestly didn't know how to solve. "Did you know you're the fifth person that came to me to declare their intention of becoming my Apprentice? However, you're the first I ever reasonably considered. You have the spark and potential that they didn't. Self-assured Ravenclaws that thought their shinny report-cards would bring them into my grace, or self-important Slytherins that tried to wheedle their way into the positions through blackmail or thinly veiled threats." Ebon shook his head.

They walked on in silence for a still moment.

"Would you like to join me for my meeting with the School Board. About the Remedial Classes?"

"I…" Bellatrix blanked at the offer, not sure where it was coming from. "I'm not sure…"

"You're twenty, Bellatrix." The professor said blandly. "You're your own woman. If you want Remedial Classes, then you must speak up. I understand you have your family and house, even if I'll never understand such things, but this is your future. You have to stand up to fight for what you want in life."

He saw the young woman straighten, a bit of confidence entering her as they walked. "I'll come." She said softly, but without nerves.

"It's tomorrow at eighteen hundred."