Avada Kedavra
Max had to turn back time to attend her double herbology block, with the Ravenclaws. And then she had tutoring.
With Mr. Jefferson, now, she supposed.
When she entered the familiar, nearly-empty classroom, Jefferson was sitting at the desk. His eyes glittered quietly in the darkness.
The room was lit by a single lantern on Jefferson’s desk. The orange rays played against his sharp cheekbones and waxy skin.
He glanced up.
For a moment - a short, fragile, barely-there moment - something about his expression sat wrong in Max’s stomach, and caused something deeply unsettling to tug at her gut.
And then, he smiled - and that oddly inhuman quality to his glittering eyes vanished, as did the feeling in Max’s stomach.
The next moment, Max had forgotten about it entirely, instead focused on the anxiety bubbling in her gut.
“Mr. Jefferson?” she said, softly. “Ms. Grant told me to take my tutoring sessions with you?”
“Ah. Yes, she spoke to me about you,” Jefferson said, adjusting his glasses. The light glinted off them. “Why don’t you demonstrate something for me, Maxine?”
“Uhm… Max,” she said. “It’s Max, sir.”
“Oh. I’m terribly sorry, Max,” Jefferson said.
“It’s okay, sir.”
“Well, Max, I’d like you to demonstrate something for me, please,” Jefferson said, standing up. The low light played off his face in an odd way, that cast shadows over his eyes.
“What would you like me to do, sir?” Max said, pulling out her wand.
“A curse,” Jefferson said. An odd light glittered in his eyes. “I have a theory about you, Max, and this would confirm it. Now,”
Jefferson pulled out his own wand, and flicked it into the corner of a room.
The clattering noise of a cage bulleting towards them made Max startle, and Jefferson smile.
Once it was in front of them, Max could see well enough to notice a plant inside the cage.
“The incantation is Avada Kedavra,” Jefferson said - Max’s eyes popped open. “There is no required wand mo-”
“Sir, that - that’s an unforgivable!” Max said, turning to him with wide, shocked eyes.
Jefferson looked right back at her, eyes deadly flat. “It’s a spell, Max. It is a tool. It is to be applied as the caster wishes. It is unforgivable if used on people - but this plant is a killer, Max. It has no useful purposes, and will strangle anything that approaches it. It was found in the grounds, and needs to be killed. The most effective way to do so is the killing curse. Now, as I was saying, th-”
“Sir, I - I can’t-”
“Do not. Interrupt. Me,” Jefferson bit, eyes ice-cold.
Max went silent in an instant.
“Now,” Jefferson said, voice calm again, “there is no required wand movement - just a strong jab should do it. Go ahead, give it a shot.”
“...Sir, I… I’m really not sure about this,” Max said, very quietly and very hesitantly. “It seems… wrong.”
“It’s a plant, Max,” Jefferson said. His voice was softer now, though. “You aren’t going to go to hell for killing it, and I need to test this theory. The caretaker told me to kill it when I was done, anyway. It’s going to die no matter what. There’s nothing wrong about it.”
Max made a tiny, unsure noise.
“Try the curse, Max,” Jefferson said, backing up a step. “I believe in you.”
Max - despite a certain amount of hesitance - raised her wand.
“...A-avada-”
. . .
It was a cold night. The air bit at her heels gently. She should’ve put on shoes - but the cold felt good on her skin.
Blood dripped from her nose and onto the grass. She still hadn’t bandaged her split lip, or put ice on her black eye.
The stars glittered against the black skyline.
. . .
“-Kedavra!”
Something changed in her voice.
And the bolt of bright, piercing green lit up the classroom.
It was silent. Not like most spells, which came with a noise like the swoop of a bird, or a gentle breeze. This one was completely, dead silent. When it touched the plant, it didn’t recoil, or retract - just… absorbed it.
And then the leaves turned brown on their ends. The stem drooped.
The plant died. Before her very eyes - just like that - it just…
Died.
Jefferson, silently, raised his eyebrows - and then, let out a slow, quiet breath.
“...I believe you’re a dark witch, Max,” he said, with quiet gravity.
Max startled. “H-huh?”
“You’re a dark witch,” Jefferson repeated, turning to her. “You have a proficiency for dark magic.”
“But - but I’m not-”
“Evil?” Jefferson said, raising an eyebrow.
Max nodded.
“I know you aren’t,” Jefferson said, leaning back against his desk. “After all - I’m a dark wizard myself, and I’m not evil.”
“You… you are?” Max said, staring. Not the least of which because she was shocked that Hogwarts had hired a dark wizard - especially in defence against the dark arts class.
“Yes, I am,” Jefferson said, sounding resigned to the fact. “I learned when I was very young. Right after coming to Hogwarts. And I had the same problem as you - the only charms I could manage consistently were curses. I was great at Transfiguration - because Transfiguration is sacrificial magic. You sacrifice the thing you’re transfiguring for what you’re making it into. That doesn’t mean I’m evil, Max - and it doesn’t mean you’re evil, either. It doesn’t mean anything. Dark magic is a legal classification, not a moral one. It doesn’t make you more or less good. But it does mean you’re going to have some trouble in your charms classes. Light magic will come hard to you, and even if you manage to cast it, it will be… diminished, for lack of a better word. It will make people see you badly, too, which is why I suggest you do your best to hide this information. You will be prejudiced against for being a dark magician.”
Suddenly, Jefferson turned to her - and something glittered in his near-black eyes.
“What I’m curious about - is why a muggleborn witch would have a proficiency for dark magic. After all - magical proficiencies and preferences are genetic. Perhaps… you could enlighten me, Max?”
Max, after a moment, shook her head. “I… don’t know, sir.”
“Please, Max,” he said, smiling softly at her, “Mark is fine. After all - we’re going to be spending a lot of tutoring sessions together from now on. And, most of all, you’ll carry on the legacy of dark magic, Max. And I expect you to do it well. Max,”
He straightened.
“From now on, you will be my protege,” he said, adjusting his glasses, grin sharpening. “I expect you to stay after every class, and update me on your progress. And these tutoring sessions will be split into two types - tutoring you in being able to do light magic, and improving your dark magic. You won’t let me down.”
He didn’t phrase this as a question - but rather, as a fact.
“And Max,” he said, looking quietly down at her. “If I ask you a question, I want you to tell me the truth. It won’t leave this room, I promise you - but you will not hide things from me. Understand?”
“...Yes, sir,” she said - not entirely sure how to feel about this development.
Jefferson. Her mentor.
Jefferson, the dueling champion. Her mentor.
...Jefferson, who, apparently… was a dark magician.
...Just like her.
“Mark,” he corrected softly, smiling.
“...Okay… Mark,” she said. The word felt very odd on her tongue.
“In class, you’ll still refer to me as Mr. Jefferson, of course,” he said, voice matter-of-fact. “But in these sessions, I prefer a… less official dynamic. Mark would be fine. You might be my protege, Max, but I want to have an open relationship with you. That’s why I told you I’m a dark wizard. From now on - nothing but the truth between us. Alright?”
“Alright,” she said, nodding. Resolve firming.
She could work with this. Even if it felt a little odd, now - being taught to be a better witch by an expert like Jefferson would help her immensely.
And having an informal relationship would be… weird, definitely, but. She’d hold off judgement until she knew him better.
“Now, first lesson,” he said - and his eyes glinted oddly again. “That killing curse was atrocious. It hardly would’ve caused a twinge in anything more alive than a weed. It’s a very hard spell, but a great base for things to come. So - try again.”