2. Chapter 2

Rey's new teacher puts away his scrolls and gets to his feet.

It's a lengthy process. He moves with a languid grace, and there's so much of him that needs to straighten to full height.

Unlike the formal black robes that he'd donned for the Start-of-Term Feast, his outfit today wouldn't raise an eyebrow in Muggle London. He's wearing a dove gray waistcoat with matching suit jacket and trousers, and a crisp white button-up shirt and a navy blue tie. The clothes are perfectly tailored to emphasize his athletic figure, and golden rays of morning sun pouring in from the windows dance through artfully tousled hair that curls at his collar.

He takes Rey's breath away.

"Welcome to seventh year Defense Against the Dark Arts." Professor Solo instantly seizes command of the room; the idle chatter that had started burbling around Rey during roll call abruptly cuts off. "The objective of this class is to ensure that you make Hogwarts proud when you sit your upcoming N.E.W.T. examinations— the results of which will determine your future in the wizarding world."

It's so strange, Rey thinks, to hear an American accent ringing softly amidst the walls of Hogwarts Castle. It's novel enough that even the more talkative students are hanging on to every word.

Even when he's taking the piss out of them, apparently.

"I've been reviewing your syllabuses over the past six years and, frankly, I'm surprised that you were even able to scrape an Ordinary Wizarding Level in this subject in fifth year," Solo continues, prompting a wave of uneasy fidgeting from most of the assembly.

"Well, to tell you the truth, sir, we barely scraped," says Seff Hellin. His housemates mutter their assent. The Ravenclaws' collective grievance at the subpar quality of their D.A.D.A. education has taken on mythic proportions at this point.

"Indeed." Solo's lips press together in a thin line. "You have gone through six different instructors before myself. Each one had their own methods, their own lesson plans... and only two of them finished out the year." He looks faintly put upon, and it shouldn't be as endearing as Rey finds it. "I suppose I'll start off by getting a feel for what you do know. Stand up."

"Bit of a grump, isn't he?" Rose mumbles to Rey as they comply.

Rey can only shrug. If she were in his shoes, she'd probably be irritated, too. Headmaster Kenobi had mentioned that he'd known Professor Solo's family for years— was him accepting the D.A.D.A. post a favor to a friend?

She's so curious.

She wants to know everything about him.

He produces a blackthorn wand from the inner lining of his suit jacket. Rey's near enough that she can make out the intricate carvings and little flourishes on the wood. There's simply no mistaking the style.

What is an American doing with a San Tekka wand from Diagon Alley?

Professor Solo flicks his wrist; the rows of vacated desks part like the Red Sea, clearing a wide space in the middle of the room.

"We'll go in reverse alphabetical order," he says. "As I call your name, come to the center and demonstrate the required magic. Warv, if you please."

Bazel Warv tears away from his cluster of Hufflepuffs. He's the tallest in Rey's year, with a bulky frame that has made him a menace as a Beater out on the Quidditch pitch, but right now his green eyes are as wide as moons.

Solo conjures a heavy-looking wooden wardrobe from out of thin air. "Knockback Jinx," he directs.

Hesitantly, Bazel aims his wand at the wardrobe. "Flipendo."

The wardrobe's mirror cracks, but the massive structure itself doesn't budge an inch. Decidedly not knocked back.

Solo frowns. "That's a rudimentary Grade 2 spell, Warv."

Bazel hangs his head. "Sorry, Professor."

The minutes drag on in a succession of students coming forward and disappointing their new D.A.D.A. teacher one by one.

When it's Rose's turn, Solo once again flicks his wand— this time in the direction of the wardrobe— and it begins to shake. The door flies open.

And Paige Tico emerges from the wardrobe, hands on her hips as she stares at Rose with pursed lips, one foot tapping on the floor.

Rey clenches her teeth. The room is totally silent. She can't—

It's too late. A snigger worms its way up from her chest. The moment Finn hears it, his shoulders start shaking, too, as he claps a palm over his mouth.

Of course a disappointed older sister would be Rose's greatest fear.

At the sound of Finn and Rey's barely suppressed cackling, Rose cranes her neck to glare at them. "Oi! Shut up!" she hisses.

Which only serves to make them laugh even harder.

Rey emits a very loud, very unattractive, very piggish kind of snort that echoes through the room. This sets Rose off. She starts giggling as well, and the Boggart in the form of Paige Tico disappears without a single Banishing Spell being cast.

Professor Ben Solo stares at Finn, Rey, and Rose with a mixture of incredulity and annoyance.

Finn elbows Rey in the side— the universal gesture for We're going to get into trouble. She bites back her mirth until, eventually, she manages to swallow all of it down.

Her chest hurts. Her eyes are a little teary.

"Right." Solo's tone could have frozen the Black Lake. "I think I'm beginning to understand why the turnover is through the roof."

"You mean you don't know?"

There she goes again, with her big mouth, with the wrong words at the wrong times.

Rey isn't even fully aware that she's the one who'd spoken until Solo's dark eyes flash at her and nearby classmates subtly shift away lest his wrath fall on them as well. She can hardly function as she holds his gaze, feeling like the air between them is charged with static. She doesn't know if she wants to wither in the piercing depths of his undivided attention— or bloom in it.

Before she can make her choice, though, he looks away and calls on the next student to perform a Reductor Curse on the now empty wardrobe...

And so it goes. The only time he looks less than thunderous is when Korr Sella produces a flawless Smokescreen, precisely contained to within the diameter that he'd specified. "Very adequate, Miss Sella," he praises.

Rey's fingers tighten around her aspen wand. I'm not jealous, she tells herself firmly.

By the time it's her turn, Solo's leaning against the teacher's table, arms crossed, his gaze contemplative as she faces him. As she lifts her chin in both defiance and challenge.

"Patronus Charm," he orders.

Rey's classmates start whispering among themselves. Evoking the tangible positive energy force known as a Patronus— a spirit guardian— is ridiculously advanced magic, far beyond N.E.W.T. level. He's getting back at her for her cheek, she's sure of it, probably anticipating either a spectacular failure of spellcasting or a humbled admission that she doesn't know how to do it.

What he doesn't know is that— with the Ticos visiting family in Saigon and Finn leading the Hogwarts Gobstones Team to glorious victory at a tournament in Budapest— it had been a long and boring summer, and Rey had spent most of it locked up in her room with a dozen textbooks and pushing the limits of her abilities while her parents drank and argued and forgot they had a daughter.

It's not difficult to think of a happy memory, her birthday having been only two days ago. As she draws circles in the air with the tip of her wand, Rey pictures the lemon drizzle cake in her mind, her housemates singing, the candle's orange flame turning into a dozen butterflies, Rose toasting her with pumpkin juice all the way from the Hufflepuff table.

"Expecto Patronum."

A ghostly silhouette erupts from the tip of Rey's wand. It's a doe, slender and silvery, and it charges exuberantly at Professor Solo, who jerks as it passes through him before melting away in a patch of sunlight.

The Hufflepuffs gasp in wonder. The Gryffindors cheer. The Ravenclaws break out into applause. The Slytherins remain as inscrutable as always, although some raised eyebrows could be interpreted as probably being impressed.

But all of this is mere background interference. Rey can stare at nothing else but her professor's pale features. She's almost trembling as she waits for him to speak, to affirm that she's better than Korr Sella.

To tell her... fuck, to tell her that she's a good girl. She imagines him saying it in that deep, firewhisky voice of his.

It's a miracle her wand doesn't snap from how hard she's clutching it.

His lips quirk.

"Well, if Miss Niima can muster a corporeal Patronus, I see no reason why the rest of you shouldn't aspire to similar heights," Solo addresses the other students, although his inky, star-cut eyes remain fixed on Rey. "You all have a week to research the theory behind this spell and how to cast it. Next Friday, we'll have a practical quiz."

The Gryffindors' cheers turn into boos.

"Miss Niima," Solo continues, unperturbed, "given your advanced skills, I expect you to be able to nonverbally produce your Patronus next week."

Rey slinks back to her classmates as another student takes center stage. Her cheeks are flaming.

"He's not a grump," she corrects Rose in the lowest, most inaudible voice that she can manage. "He's an asshole."

✨✨✨

Rey doesn't go to Hogsmeade that weekend. Finn and Rose are currently in the lovers reunited after months apart phase and she already feels enough of a third wheel at school as it is. She waves them off, insisting that she needs to study, and then spends most of Saturday exploring instead.

The thing about Hogwarts is that there's always something new to discover. The staircases move at will, leading to corridors that had previously not been accessible before. The portraits are interesting to talk to, even if some of them tend to be quite rude. There are trophy rooms and abandoned offices and eldritch halls and cluttered storage facilities, all filled with quirky knickknacks and enchanted artifacts that Rey can pore over for hours.

The castle is the best place to get lost in. It's more Rey's home than the dilapidated council flat where she grew up fending for herself and keeping out of her tantrum-prone mother's way and despairing that things would never get better and she was doomed to this small, shabby existence.

Until the day an owl flew in through the kitchen window while her parents were passed out in the living room and dropped a letter into her bowl of cereal— fortunately, before she'd poured in the milk.

She'd thought it was all some sort of elaborate prank at first, but then Chewie came knocking later that afternoon. He'd taken her to Diagon Alley to shop for her wand and robes and school supplies on the Hogwarts fund for disadvantaged Muggleborn students, and he'd bewitched the acceptance letter to read like it was from— well, from a normal boarding school.

When Rey went back to the flat, her mother had laughed in her face. Her father had made some effort, promising that he'd bring her to the train station, but the day came and he was hungover and sluggish and grouchy, so Rey had slipped off on her own.

She pushes the bitter memories away. In early July she's going to graduate and she'll be able to leave that part of her life behind for good.

But, for now, it's a lazy Saturday afternoon, the castle quiet with most of the students either at Hogsmeade or enjoying the sunshine out on the grounds, and she's free to wander.

Rey heads to the seventh floor. There's a hilarious moving tapestry there that she enjoys looking at— a colorfully woven depiction of Barnabas the Barmy's foolish attempt to train a group of trolls for the ballet. The trolls are prancing around a forest clearing in pink tutus and matching slippers, some of them hitting the hapless wizard over the head with their clubs. Ever since stumbling upon it in her fourth year, Rey's often spent ages just observing the scene and chuckling to herself.

Today, however, there's a doorway in the wall opposite the tapestry that's never been there before. Five house-elves are scurrying out of it, carrying mops and dustpans and large flasks of cleaning solution. The door disappears when the last elf exits.

The fivesome wave at Rey when they see her. She smiles and greets each of them by name. "Where'd you all come from, then?" she asks, nodding towards the now blank wall.

"Is the Room of Requirement, miss!" squeaks Artoo. "We is using it when we need more supplies!"

Rey leans forward eagerly. A hidden room— that would be useful. "Can you tell me how to get in?"

The elves don't hesitate. Rey had found the kitchens early on in first year, and they've been spoiling her ever since. She loves them, if she's being honest, and she's pretty sure they like her better than most of her schoolmates do.

It's Threepio, the most erudite of the house-elves, who passes the instructions on to her in high, nasal tones, after which he and his peers vanish with loud cracks to attend to their chores elsewhere in the castle. Left alone in the hallway— and feeling mildly foolish— Rey paces back and forth in front of the wall three times, thinking "very, very hard" about what kind of space she needs.

Somewhere quiet. Somewhere she can disappear while not minding being alone.

Maybe with snacks?

Rey all but squeals when the door appears. She barrels into the Room of Requirement, and it's—

"Wicked," she breathes, her heart aglow.

✨✨✨

"This is bloody amazing!" Finn gushes.

Rey had led him and Rose to her latest discovery right after dinner. It's eight in the evening, which gives them a little under two hours before they have to go back to their respective dorms. In truth, Rey's contemplating missing curfew and just spending the night here.

It's a great room.

The size of a large cathedral, it contains tower after tower of random objects that were obviously dumped or hidden away by countless generations of Hogwarts inhabitants. There's piles of broken furniture, thousands of books, an assortment of pointy hats in every color imaginable, failed potion experiments congealing inside chipped bottles, bloodstained and rusty medieval-looking swords and axes, jewels, bits of dragon eggshells...

And so much more.

"No food, though," Rey mournfully declares. "I guess even this place has to conform to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration."

"You can't possibly still be hungry after demolishing the roast beef," Rose admonishes. "Oh, wait, what am I on about— 'course you are."

"Piss off," Rey says with a laugh. As her friends start playing with a Fanged Frisbee plucked from one of the many heaps of various contraband, she retreats down an aisle she hadn't been able to peruse earlier. Someone before her time had put a wig and a tiara on the head of an ugly warlock statue, and just beyond that ghastly apparition is a cage containing the five-legged skeleton of a creature she doesn't recognize— but Rose probably would. She calls out to the other girl to come have a look, but at that exact moment her gaze lands on a ripple of silver haphazardly draped over a nearby crate.

Finn and Rose turn the corner and immediately stop in their tracks when they see the filmy, shimmering garment that Rey is holding.

"Is that a..." Finn trails off in disbelief.

"An invisibility cloak!" Rose finishes with glee. "Those are really rare— my great-grandfather had one but the charm wore off after a couple of generations— go on, then, Rey, try it, let's see if it still works—"

Rey shrugs on the cloak, pulling the hood up over her head.

Judging from the ecstatic looks on Finn and Rose's faces, they don't have to worry about getting caught breaking curfew anymore.

✨✨✨

Rey's no stranger to staying out past ten in the evening— she's just never done it so openly before. Instead of tiptoeing around and ducking into empty classrooms or behind statues and suits of armor, she's strolling down Hogwarts' darkened corridors with Finn and Rose as boldly as the three of them please. Huddled safely beneath the invisibility cloak that renders them undetectable to the naked eye.

They'd stayed in the Room of Hidden Things until Finn started yawning. It's now almost midnight and they pass by the caretaker, Unkar Plutt, as he's making his rounds, holding a lantern aloft and crooning softly to the only living thing he's ever shown an ounce of humanity towards— Mr. Pancakes, his fat brown-and-white cat whom Rey is convinced is pure evil in fluffy form.

Mr. Pancakes' sinister yellow eyes gleam in the lamplight, narrowing at Finn, Rey, and Rose as they quietly walk past. For a moment, Rey is seized by the very real fear that the malodorous feline will be able to detect their presence, but his velvety ears soon twitch in disdain and he continues waddling after Plutt, tail in the air.

"I love this cloak," Finn whispers once they're out of earshot.

They're dropping Rose off first. The Hufflepuff dorms are located on the basement level of the castle; as they're crossing the Entrance Hall, the main doors suddenly fly open, letting in copious amounts of autumn breeze and moonlight.

Finn, Rey, and Rose instinctively flatten themselves against the nearest wall. Rey glances down to make sure that none of their feet are sticking out of the cloak.

There are two figures looming at the threshold, their edges blurred by the clear night's dim radiance. Rey's pulse accelerates when she realizes it's Professor Solo, accompanied by Chewbacca.

"Well," the younger man snarls as his heavy boots thud into the hall, the torches along the walls automatically lighting up at his approach, "that was an utter waste of time."

He's wearing what seems to be hunting attire. A ribbed black tunic, black trousers, thick leather gloves. A flowing cape. He looks like the Dark wizards he's teaching the students to defend themselves against.

Rey shivers.

"I'm telling you, Ben, there's something out there," Chewie insists in his gruff brogue. He's wielding a crossbow— a massive thing that appears to be quite capable of killing a building. "The centaurs are spooked. All their signs point to ill fortune."

"Divination is hardly an exact science." Solo's tone is clipped. "I'm off to bed."

Chewie sighs, but nods. "Poe and Obi-Wan are still out there. We should let them know that we decided to head back."

"Fine." Solo draws his wand, tracing a quicker and more effortless version of the circular patterns that Rey had made in the D.A.D.A. classroom. His Patronus materializes, then bounds back out onto the grounds to find Professor Dameron and Headmaster Kenobi and relay the message.

Finn, Rey, and Rose stay rooted to the spot long after the teachers have left the Entrance Hall.

In Finn and Rose's case, it's because they can't resume walking without the cloak slipping off if Rey remains where she is.

In Rey's case, it's because she's afraid that, if she moves, the world around her will shatter.

Ben Solo's Patronus is a stag.