Acceptance Is Unacceptable

Transfiguration Classroom, (Jan. 22 nd )

"Potter," Professor Rosemburg called out, "stay after for a moment."

Harry bid Viktor goodbye and waited for everyone to filter out of the room. When he was alone with the Transfiguration Professor, Rosemburg smiled. "I must say, Potter, I am impressed. When I heard that a first year was to be entering my third year class, I thought it had to be a mistake. Your contributions to the discussion today tells me otherwise. Where exactly did you learn about using Transfiguration in duels?"

"It was just something I read about at Hogwarts, sir," Harry replied, happy that his German had finally become passable.

"Mr. Potter." Rosemburg smirked. "I am somewhat familiar with the Hogwarts curriculum, and I know that battle-transfiguration is not a part of it. So, please, be honest."

"I really like transfiguration, sir, and I looked up a lot of advanced transfigurations on my own time." Technically, that was true, Harry thought. Professor Quirrell never specifically told him what to study in order to prepare for his 'lessons.' It was just something Harry had thought might be helpful. Unfortunately, the spells were far too advanced for him, but that didn't mean that Harry didn't find the entire idea fascinating.

"I see, well, I'm rather impressed, Mr. Potter. Tell me, have you ever tried any of the spells you mentioned today?"

"No sir, the spells all seemed really complicated, and I didn't have the time to practice them."

"Good. You could have hurt yourself trying to do that kind of advanced transfiguration. I'd say you are still a few years away from trying anything along those lines, Potter, but it is still impressive that you have actually researched the spells. Tell me, have you had any problems with the end of the year spell list so far?"

"I've only practiced a couple of them, sir, but the first few haven't been that difficult."

"Show me." Rosemburg took out a small mouse from one of his desk's drawers and placed it on the table. "Turn this mouse into another animal."

After a moment's hesitation, Harry waved his wand over the frantic creature, and, immediately, the small mouse's body began to shift and contort. The mouse's white fur soon became a sickly green skin, its head grew several inches, and the creature's legs coiled back.

Rosemburg cast a freezing charm on the toad to prevent it from hopping off his desk, and he began to closely inspect the creature. "A good job," he said slowly. "The only flaw I can detect is that the toad's eyes are somewhat pinkish."

"I'll work on it, sir."

"You do that Potter. I traditionally like to see my third years turn a rat into a cat or animal of that size by the end of the year. Right now I'd say you are a little behind the rest of the class in practical application, but if you work hard, you should be able to catch up by the end of February. If you need help with anything or have any questions, my door will be open to you."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said gratefully.

"Oh, and Potter, I'm glad that you were able to get the language issue resolved. I had hoped to talk to you about your place in the class after the first lesson, but with your rudimentary knowledge of German, it would have been a waste of my time."

"I understand," Harry said honestly, "thankfully Viktor was able to help me with the language charm."

"Krum?" Rosemburg asked in surprise.

"Yes, sir."

"Whatever works I suppose. Have a good day, Potter."

Nodding his head, Harry quickly left the room in a great mood. The language charm had finally taken, and today was the first time he had been able to properly communicate with his professors. While Grausam still seemed to strongly dislike him, and Professor Cherny continued to ignore his very existence, Professor Guiles had been pleased with his work in Herbology, and, clearly, Professor Rosemburg had been impressed with his transfiguration knowledge. Overall, Harry thought that the day couldn't have gone much better.

Turning the corner, Harry walked down the corridor that led to the main staircase. As he was passing an empty charms classroom, however, he was violently slammed into the wall. Dazed, Harry dropped his bag, and he felt two sets of hands grab him. Before he realized what was happening, he was lifted up and tossed unceremoniously into the unoccupied Charms classroom.

Picking himself up off the floor, Harry turned around when he heard the door to the classroom slam shut. Facing him were four third-years from his transfiguration class, and they all had their wands pointed at him.

"I think we need to talk Potter," a large boy said casually as his three friends glared at Harry. "You see, I don't think you properly understand how things work at Durmstrang. You might be in our transfiguration class, but that doesn't mean you get to show us up."

"I didn't show yo–"

"Silencio," the boy said. "I was talking, Potter. Didn't your Mudblood mother ever tell you that it's rude to interrupt your betters?"

"I doubt it, Marcos," another boy said. "Bitch probably spent too much time on her knees servicing his dad."

"True," Marcos replied, "How else could a Mudblood convince a Pureblood to sully their family line. Your mother must have a wonderful tongue, Potter."

Enraged, Harry drew his wand, only to be immediately disarmed by the second boy.

"What exactly were you planning on doing with this?" The boy mockingly asked, twirling Harry's wand.

Harry looked between the four boys warily. With no wand, he was a sitting target for them to curse at will.

"Now, Potter, before your violent little outburst, we were having such a pleasant conversation. We don't want to hurt you, but you seem to have it in your head that you're a real wizard. You're not. You're a half-blood, which means you're only half a wizard, and half-wizards can't do as well as real wizards. That just doesn't make any sense, does it?"

The boy currently twirling Harry's wand took a threatening step forward. "It's time that you begin showing the proper respect to your betters Potter, and you can start by not being such a fucking know-it-all. We know you probably inherited your mother's talented mouth, and you are probably eager to start sucking Rosemburg's cock, but that doesn't mean you get to do better than us. So, do we understand each other, Potter? Finite."

Fighting the urge to charge the boys with his fists for insulting his mother, Harry growled out, "I am not trying to make you look bad."

"Potter, Potter, Potter," Marcus said sadly. "This isn't a debate. Do you understand us or do we need to teach you a lesson?"

Looking between the four boys and their wands, Harry knew he should probably just agree and get out of this situation. He was disarmed and in an empty classroom, but he didn't come all the way to Durmstrang just to be intimidated into doing badly. Besides, Harry refused to give them the satisfaction of mocking him and his mother. He wasn't a half-wizard, he was better than them, and they knew it. "No," he spat, "It's not my fault you're all so stupid that you can't do better than a first year."

Harry knew it was unnecessary to mock them, but he didn't care, they were going to curse him anyway.

"Fuck you, Potter," Marcos snarled, "let's see how much better you are when you can't make it to class! Perco–"

Diving to the side, Harry hoped to avoid Marcos' first spell; however, before the curse could be completed, the door to the room burst open. From his spot on the ground, Harry looked up in time to see Marcos get blasted into the teacher's desk, and he didn't get up. Immediately, two other boys dropped to the ground from a pair of stunning spells, and Harry noticed that his wand was only a few feet away from him.

Without hesitation, Harry got to his feet and sprinted for his wand. Grabbing it, Harry stood up, and was halfway through the incantation for the full-body bind when the last boy crumpled to the floor unconscious. Turning to see who had helped him, Harry was surprised to Viktor standing over the fallen third year.

"Harry," Viktor asked in concern, "are you alright?"

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, trying to stop his body from shaking slightly.

"I saw your bag was ripped open outside the door, and I heard you speaking to people inside."

"Y-you helped me? W-why?"

Viktor frowned. "You're my friend."

"Oh," Harry said in embarrassment, "I-I thought you just wanted to help me with the language charm. I didn't think you'd actually want to... just never mind."

"Do you need to go to the hospital wing?"

"No." Harry gestured to the four third-years "What do we do about them?"

"Leave them," Viktor spat, "they'll wake up eventually. Come on, let's go get some dinner."

"Okay...thank you Viktor."

"You are welcome, Harry."