Master and Matron
Severus raised his head from the homework he was grading as he heard a knock. Odd, it was rare for anyone to seek him out. He wasn’t expecting any of his colleagues, and his students avoided him out of fear. Except, of course, the Problem Child. The boy had never come to his office willingly though, and even if he did, Severus doubted he would have bothered knocking.
He got up from his chair and strode over to the door, opening it with a scowl on his face. Surprisingly, he was met with the new matron. He was surprised she’d approached him, he remembered her seeming to actively avoid so much as meeting his eyes when he had taught her, despite her extraordinary grades. Begrudgingly, he stepped aside to let her in.
“Hello Professor- uh, Severus. Sorry,” Erna corrected herself. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The Matron clearly had yet to adapt to the fact that he was no longer her professor.
“Erna, what’s going on?” he asked shortly. He walked to his desk and took a seat, gesturing for her to do the same.
“I, uh, wanted to ask about Dazai. He was in the hospital wing the other day, he insisted that he had some kind of condition where magic made him sick,” she started, fidgeting nervously. There was a lot more that she clearly wanted to talk about, but this was probably at least a good start.
“Yes, he has an incredibly high magical sensitivity. Unfortunately, his medical records went missing at the end of last year. They’ll need to be rewritten soon,” he told her. “What was he in for this time?” he asked after a moment.
While it was unsurprising that the boy had managed to get himself hurt, Severus couldn’t help but worry about exactly what had happened this time. He could only hope it wasn’t severe, and that the Problem Child wasn’t somehow finding more trouble for Severus to deal with.
“He had a broken arm,” she answered simply. She seemed to consider him for a moment before continuing. “How come you’re so involved with him? I don’t remember you really seeming to, uh, care about any of your students that much,” she asked. “Ah, sorry, I don’t mean to overstep,” she quickly apologised. Severus ignored it.
“Dazai is a special case,” he told her. He didn’t really want her in his office longer than she had to be. He had no reason not to like her, but something about talking to a new, different matron about his Problem Child felt wrong.
“I think I get that. What did you mean by a high sensitivity? Dazai told me about it as well, but I’ve never heard of magical sensitivity causing a wizard to get sick.” Her confidence seemed to increase as she changed the topic to something more within her expertise, her curiosity allowing her to push her nervousness to the side.
Severus sighed. “Nor had I, however Dazai is, as I said, a special case. He saw white in a sensing stone last year, and has managed to get himself sent to the hospital wing for using too much magic more than once.”
Erna’s eyes widened slightly. “How do you know he wasn’t lying? Surely, he couldn’t have… white. The only other wizard known to see white was Merlin himself!”
Severus sighed. “The boy is from a muggle family, he had no idea what any of the colours meant until after he’d told me what he saw. We hardly believed it at first, either.”
“That’s incredible. I suppose that at least partly explains why he has such a low capacity for handling magic, though it’s still completely unheard of…” she said, clearly thinking.
“Do you have any idea how he broke his arm?” Severus asked, bringing the topic back to his larger concern.
“No, he didn’t say. It didn’t look new though, I had to re-set it because it was healing wrong,” she told him, concern entering her voice as she seemed to remember why she was there. “Does he often hide these things? It seems odd that a kid wouldn’t tell anyone about it, it must have been hurting.”
“He’s been caught a few times, yes,” Severus sighed.
“Is that not concerning?” Erna asked. Severus was glad that the healer had been able to pick up that something was off, it was a good sign that she paid attention to her patients. Much like Poppy had done.
“Do we know why he does it? His bandages too, you’ve been working with him for a while, you know about his, uh,” She watched Severus carefully as she spoke, as if afraid of divulging something she shouldn’t, eventually trailing off.
“I’m aware of his habits. I believe he hides things due to his home life, though I can never get a straight answer out of him when I ask,” he told her.
Erna nodded, though her face became pale at the implication of abuse. “I want to help you help him.”
Severus nodded, despite his initial urge to shut her out. He needed all the help he could get. “I’m planning to speak to Minerva about the situation in a few days, I’ll let you know when I manage to get a time.”
Erna looked as though she wanted to say more, but seemed to take Severus’ tone as a signal to leave. “Thank you.”
“Erna,” Severus called as she was leaving. “Poppy and I had labelled Dazai’s records as ‘Problem Child’. It kept him anonymous when we were looking for advice. Could you make sure to write it up like that again?”
She looked back and nodded. It was an odd request, but she trusted Madam Pomfrey’s judgment.
Severus was tired, he had been puzzling over Dazai’s Boggart for weeks. Though he would have liked for Dazai to have been spared from having to face it at all, he was glad to have another clue.
Maybe he was overthinking it, but he couldn’t help but think that Dazai hadn’t told him the truth when he’d asked about the man. What Dazai had claimed didn’t explain why the Boggart would have spoken to him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. If only the boy would be honest with him for once.
The Port Mafia. That was the other issue. Severus had no idea how the boy had gotten himself involved with a mafia at such a young age, but it almost certainly had something to do with Dazai’s secretive nature. How involved was he? Did the Boggart-man have anything to do with it? Severus thought on what he’d said. Shuji. Perhaps that was some kind of code word.
He wished he had more details. He had learned so much about the boy, and yet he still felt like he was completely in the dark. Had Poppy known more before she’d died?
Severus shook his head. He wished Poppy were still there, she always had an idea or theory. He missed trying to puzzle out the Problem Child with her.
Sighing, he stood up. He had a class to teach in a few minutes. He had a disaster to prevent when the boy inevitably got it into his head that he wanted to find a new way to horrify his professor despite his frankly impressive skill with the subject.
Dazai was determined to make a decent poison this time. Draco had already moved the ingredients to his side of the table, but Dazai wouldn't let that stop him. Just as he was about to snatch a root of some kind, Snape appeared in front of them. his attempted grab missed, and he huffed in annoyance.
“Mr. Dazai. I trust that you aren’t about to throw that into the potion your partner has been trying so hard to protect?” he asked.
“Actually, that’s exactly what I was about to do!” Dazai chirped.
“Dazai!” Draco snapped. Dazai rolled his eye.
“Draco is no fun! He’s as bad as Snape!” he whined. He did, however, stop aiming the root thing at the currently decent potion. Begrudgingly, he proceeded to actually do it properly. Such a boring lesson! Snape clearly wasn’t going anywhere until the potion was done, which left Dazai with no choice but to do it right. He complained bitterly as he went.
Only once the potion was being bottled did Snape return to the front of the room, much to Dazai’s disappointment. He then began rattling on about some assignment for the class to do. Dazai zoned out pretty quickly, deciding immediately that he simply wouldn’t do it. He couldn’t be bothered with that kind of work, it was just boring. After a while, Snape paused. Dazai looked up and found that the Potions master was looking directly at him.
“I have decided to create a second option for this assignment. If you manage to complete this, it will count as a 100% for all of your homework this semester, though I doubt many, if any, of you will succeed. The task is to create a way to brew a Shrinking Solution that excludes two of the ingredients that are typically used. If you attempt this task and fail, your other homework will be expected if you do not wish to fail Potions this semester.”
A few students grumbled at the choice, clearly considering the assignment an impossible task. Dazai, on the other hand, perked up. It seemed they were finally being given something vaguely interesting.
Dazai’s mind flicked back to the previous year, when he had modified a potion in front of Snape. He’d seemed impressed, for some reason, and had asked if similar content would make Dazai do his work for once. It seemed the man was finally making good on his offer.
Subtly jinxing a random student, Dazai walked with his gang to the library. Blaise cast him an unimpressed look, but didn’t comment. Dazai shrugged. Hermione watched, surprised as the victim fell over. She stepped out to help him up, then noticed the silent exchange between her friends.
“Dazai, did you do that?” she asked, hurrying over to their gang, which hadn’t bothered to stop. She looked simultaneously annoyed at him and impressed. Mostly annoyed, though Dazai chose to ignore that.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dazai replied, making no actual effort to make the lie believable.
“You can’t just go around jinxing people! Especially when you’re already not seen in the best light,” she admonished, either not noticing or ignoring the students who turned to look at them. “How did you do it though? Castless magic is really advanced, even I can’t do it!” she continued, her curiosity overpowering her need to enforce the rules.
“Don’t inflate his ego, he’s already unbearable,” Ron pleaded.
“Is that any way to talk to your boss?” Dazai pouted. “And castless magic really isn’t that hard.” Hermione looked at him like he’d grown a second head.
“What do you mean it’s not hard? Many great wizards struggled to perfect it!”
When the group sat down in the library, Hermione was in a stunned silence, still mentally puzzling over how anyone could possibly think such a difficult and advanced practice was ‘easy’.
“Anyways, the Potions assignment seems interesting for once, at least,” Dazai said, interrupting Hermione’s thoughts and opening his workbook to begin making notes. He usually wouldn’t need them; most homework was simply regurgitating the textbook and was mind-numbingly easy. Not that he actually did any of his homework.
“What’re you talking about mate? The only doable one is the same as usual,” Ron replied.
“I wouldn’t say the challenge wasn’t doable, but it is incredibly advanced. This seems like something that would be used as a challenge for seventh-years. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to figure it out,” Hermione chimed in.
“It can’t be that hard, surely,” Dazai replied. “It’s just creating an alternate recipe.” The entire group –other than maybe Blaise, who had gotten somewhat used to similar Dazai antics – looked at him in exasperation. “What?”
“No offence Dazai, but aside from exams last year, you fail every subject,” Ron told him bluntly. Hermione elbowed him.
“Yeah, but that’s because it’s all so boring!” he told them.
“He did ace every one of those exams, though,” Draco pointed out. Dazai gave Ron a smug look that had Draco immediately regretting the accidental compliment, if the other boy’s scrunched up face was anything to go by.
“Maybe we could work on it together?” Hermione suggested. Dazai hummed noncommittally; he wouldn’t mind the company, but he also knew how Hermione loved to do things by the book. It would likely be counterproductive. “The wizard who made the original recipe was incredibly talented, so it won’t be easy, especially not alone.” Dazai nodded along, but eventually tuned out as she began to ramble, her monologue slowly devolving into boring facts about the crusty old wizard who’d invented the potion. Ron and Draco began talking, not even pretending to listen to Hermione as she rambled.
His thoughts shifted to the Advanced Potions book he’d won from Snape. He still had it memorised, of course, and the theory it looked at could be helpful. For once, Dazai found himself almost excited about a school project.
Severus knocked on the Headmistress’s door, whispering the password to unlock it. He quickly made his way to where Minerva was waiting at her desk.
“I need to find a new Transfiguration teacher,” she muttered as she waved Severus over. He couldn’t help but notice the dark shadows under her eyes. Doing the job of Headmistress while also being a full-time teacher was taking a toll on her. Severus was honestly impressed she’d been handling it so well, he doubted he would have been able to keep up with that kind of workload.
“I’m surprised you found time to talk to me, with your schedule,” Severus admitted. “You need to pass some of your duties on to the other staff, at least until we have a new teacher.”
“You told me it was about Mr. Dazai, which means it probably carries some level of urgency. What happened this time?” she asked, ignoring his last statement. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, she would burn out at this rate. She was right though. Dazai-related situations were usually important to keep up with.
“The question should be ‘what hasn’t happened?’ when it comes to that Problem Child,” he said with a sigh. “Have you heard about the Boggart situation from a few weeks ago?” he asked her.
“Not much, but I know Remus was planning that lesson and that something happened. I didn’t get the chance to get details.”
“His reaction to it was… concerning, to say the least. I was told he all but had a panic attack,” he started.
“Do you know what form the Boggart assumed?” she questioned.
“That’s the problem, the form wasn’t something a typical child would fear. It was a man and three dogs, though we don’t know for certain who the man was,” he explained. He could only hope she might have more ideas than him. “I asked the boy about it a few days ago, he told me it was the man that mugged him last year, though I don’t trust that he would tell me the whole truth.”
Minerva nodded and sighed. “That child is too good at keeping secrets for his own good. Did you have any theories about it? I’m guessing you wouldn’t come to me unless you had reason not to believe the boy.”
“Remus told me the Boggart said the word ‘Shuji’, and it made Dazai completely freeze up. I’ve looked into it, but it isn’t any word that I can find in Japanese.”
Minerva looked thoughtful for a moment, considering. “I believe that Shuji may be a Japanese name, though I’m not sure how that fits in this context. I don’t suppose you know whether Dazai has any connections back home with anyone named Shuji?”
“No, he never talks about his home life.”
“No, I didn’t think so. This whole process would be so much easier if he did,” she admitted, shaking her head.
The name theory made sense, and explained why Severus couldn’t find a definition for it as a word. Perhaps the Boggart-man had been threatening someone close to Dazai? Or mentioning the name of someone he feared… “I don’t know for sure who that man was either, it wasn’t his guardian, Mori.” A thought popped into Severus’s head, the man hadn’t been Mori, but he had never seen the boy’s real father before. From what he had gathered from the letter he had found the previous year, the Dazai hadn’t been adopted due to the man’s death.
“Do you think it could have anything to do with the Port Mafia? If the boy is involved, it wouldn’t be surprising to learn that he’s being blackmailed. We don’t know how deep he is in all of that, but it wouldn’t be difficult to make enemies in a place like that,” Minerva suggested, interrupting Severus’ train of thought.
Severus didn’t like the picture that painted, but he had to admit that it made sense. It was also entirely possible that Dazai had been telling some of the truth, even if he did omit parts. His eyes widened in horror as a thought dawned on him. “Do you think the incident with the boy’s eye last year could’ve been a result of not complying with whatever he was being forced to do?”
The expression Minerva wore told him she had been thinking on much the same lines. She looked as though she was about to respond when they heard footsteps approaching the office door. She looked at Severus, questioning.
“Probably Erna. She wanted to help look into the situation regarding the Problem Child, and we need all the help we can get. I let her know I’d be talking to you around now,” he explained. Minerva nodded.
“We do indeed. However, I do not think it would be wise to disclose anything regarding the Mafia yet. While I doubt the girl has any ill intentions, we can’t risk a leak finding its way into the Daily Prophet.”
“Ah, drat! Wrong password…” Erna muttered form outside. Severus nodded his agreement to the Headmistress’s previous statement before making his way to the door.
“Ah, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt. You said you were trying to look into Dazai’s situation?” Erna apologised as the door opened. The older professors couldn’t help but be reminded of her time as a student as she shifted nervously.
“Come in,” Severus told her, shutting the door behind her when she did.
“We have reason to believe that Dazai is unsafe at home,” Minerva started. Erna shifted uncomfortably, but nodded.
“His arm… The eye too. There’s no way it’s just coincidence,” Erna agreed quietly.
“What we need to do is get him out,” Severus said. “Minerva, is there any way to appeal to the Ministry to have the child removed from custody or at least get a proper investigation going?” he asked. Erna’s eyes widened slightly at the bluntness of it, she likely hadn’t realised how quickly they were trying to move. It looked like Minerva hadn’t, either. The older witch looked thoughtful, trying to weigh up what was possible.
“The short answer is no; we don’t have any solid evidence and we both know the boy would never confirm what we’re saying. The Ministry is already unlikely to want to help Dazai due to his reputation, and we don’t have anyone who would be able to take him in,” she answered. “I have some sway, but we need more evidence before we can apply, as well as someone who could take him in while they investigate.”
“I could take him in,” Severus offered. Poppy had been meant to do it, but of course that was no longer an option. Erna gaped, before quickly schooling her expression.
“Severus, there are already rumours going around about the two of you being related, I do not believe it would be wise,” Minerva warned.
“Schoolchildren’s speculation is irrelevant when there is a child at risk,” he replied.
“We’ve both seen the Daily Prophet, you know it’s more than idle speculation at this stage.”
“It’s not ideal, by any means, but who else could do it? Most people fear or at least dislike him as the Demon Student and you’re far too busy to take on a child,” Severus argued. Minerva was right that it would be difficult, to say the least, but it was the only viable option. She sighed, clearly realising the same thing. Erna still looked as though she was trying to process the whole thing.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. As much as I don’t like it, it may be the only choice,” she conceded.
Minerva soon had to have them leave, her workload too much for her to spend much time talking to them. Severus had his suspicions that part of the reason she’d agreed with him so easily was to get him out faster.
“Erna,” she called as the young matron made her way to the door. “I’d like you to take names of students staying over winter break this year when it comes. I unfortunately lack the time for it,” she explained.
“Oh! Of course,” she replied, surprised. Minerva nodded her dismissal, and Erna hurried out.