History
Friday, the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs in Harry’s year were curious about their History of Magic class. Afterall, that was where their new professor was. So far, the rumors were that it was leagues better than Binns’, but the teacher was not to be messed with. Apparently, Fred and George had tried pranking her and ended up covered in slime for the rest of the class.
The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs shuffled into the class. Instead of the cold, empty room Binns taught in. The desks were all new and neatly arranged in groups of fours. There was a blackboard up front and a teacher’s desk in the corner. Posters and stuffed bookshelves covered the walls. A few potted plants were placed strategically around. The odd part, however, was the massive dog bed in the corner adjacent to the teacher’s desk. A life-sized stuffed flamingo was placed on the bed.
The blonde from the night before– Professor Chase, Harry assumed– was seated in the desk, reading a thick book and making marks on a sheet of paper next to her. And by sheet of paper, Harry means a lined, loose-leaf sheet of paper she was writing on with a muggle pencil.
He could respect that.
On the exact second that the bell rang, she bookmarked her page, set aside her book, and strode to the front of the classroom. She also did not wear a robe, however, she was dressed very professionally in a pencil skirt, white dress shirt, and vest. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and her striking gray eyes scanned over the classroom as the last few students sat down.
“Welcome to History of Magic,” she said. “My name is Annabeth Chase, you will refer to me as Professor Chase. Thankfully, you only had one year of poor teaching in this class, so we won’t have to cram as much information into your lessons as the older years. To start, I will be handing out a syllabus of what we will be going over in this class. It will have our readings, topics, and assignments on it as well as the dates that we will cover them on. If you have any questions about it or if you miss a class for one reason or another, the syllabus also has my office hours as well as my office location. Any questions so far.”
The classroom was silent. Professor Chase scanned them once more, before nodding sharply.
“A few more things before we move on to today's lesson. One, I implore you to keep an open mind during this class. Think critically and form your own opinions, back them up with evidence. We will have debates over the material we cover in this class– including a few mock trials which I’ve been told are quite fun.”
Her eyes narrowed into storm clouds as she pinned the class with a glare. “Two, I have a one strike no-tolerance policy. If you bully or harass someone, you will be given one warning. If your behavior is not corrected, you will be sent out of class, lose house points, and be given detention with me or Professor Jackson. Am I clear?”
Everyone nodded rapidly. Professor Chase leaned back and nodded once again.
“Good. Now then, lets begin, shall we?”
The rest of the class was a lecture about the very beginnings of magic– how the goddesses of magic for different religions formed a magic suitable for mortals and gifted it to the mortal plane. She described how in the beginning, magic was chaotic and unlawful, that it was scary and misunderstood and some locations, and in others worshiped and revered. She then moved on from the mythos of magic to the hard history. Now, the true beginning of magic is quite difficult to trace, but it is clear that it evolved alongside humans and animals. From there, the class was taught about the early hominids and their forms of magic and how we can trace how they used them in their everyday life. It was clear that magic and mundane– what she referred to muggles as– lived and worked together in harmony. Those with magic pulled their own weight and whatever else they could. People didn’t really care about why others had magic, just that they were gifted with abilities that could help them survive.
It was a fascinating class, and Harry soon found himself with many filled parchments of notes. It was this fascinating history that he’d first expected when he’d had his very first History of Magic class. Given how furiously Hermione was writing, she was thinking the same. Once the bell rang, the class left with cramped hands and ink stains, chattering excitedly.
Despite her stern demeanor, Professor Chase was soon a favorite among students.
Saturday morning at the crack of dawn, Oliver Wood woke Harry up for Quidditch practice. Colin Creevy caught him on the way out and ended up tagging along and yapping his ear off. Harry really didn’t want to be rude, but Colin was… annoying. And it was so early and Harry was still half asleep and didn’t appreciate the constant chatter. Harry ended up teaching him about how Quidditch was played. Colin quizzed him on Quidditch knowledge all the way down to the pitch, where he then broke away and said he was ‘going to get a good seat, Harry!’.
The rest of the team was already in the locker room. Oliver gave them a debrief on how the rest of the year would go, as well as a plan of attack on how they would be practicing to combat the different teams. They ended up staying in the locker room until sunrise. Oliver then ushered them out as they all yawned, trying to get them up in the air.
They all paused, however, when they heard laughter and talking echo throughout the crisp morning air. After a quick sweep of the field, Harry was pointing out the source. Professors Chase and Jackson were jogging around the pitch in sweat pants and short sleeved, bright orange shirts. They were talking and laughing and hardly looking winded as they lapped around the pitch without slowing.
Ron and Hermione came down from the Great Hall. Apparently they were going to watch Harry practiced, but they also were caught off guard by the jogging teachers. After the third lap when they showed no signs of slowing, Oliver marched out into the pitch.
“Excuse me!” He called to them. Both teachers slowed, turning to him. “The pitch was rented this morning to the Gryffindor Quidditch team’s practice!”
The two professors talked for a moment, before Professor Jackson called back, “Sorry about that, we didn’t know! Good luck on your practice, we’ll just run the lake instead!”
WIth that, the two teachers jogged off.
“Did they jus’ thay they were gonna run th’ la’e?” ron asked through a mouthful of marmalade toast.
After a moment, Oliver got sick of waiting and chased the Quidditch team into the sky to practice. As practice wore on, Harry couldn’t help but notice that the teacher’s weren’t lying. They’d lapped the lake three times before Oliver had shouted for his attention. It wasn’t long before George spotted and pointed out the Slytherins making their way to the field. Oliver cursed colorfully and drifted down to the field to intercept the Slytherin Quidditch team.
“Flint!” Oliver bellowed. “This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!”
Marcus Flint– the Slytherin Quidditch captain and one of their Chasers– was even bigger than Oliver. He sneered down at Oliver. “Plenty of room for all of us, Wood.”
“But I booked the field!” Oliver snapped, face red as he was positively spitting with rage. “I booked it!”
“Ah,” Flint said pleasantly, pulling a slip of parchment from his pocket. “But I’ve got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. ‘I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker’.”
“You’ve got a new Seeker?” Oliver gasped, seeming distressed. It was rather rude, really, Harry was right there. “Who?”
Draco Malfoy stepped out from behind the far larger, more burly Slytherin players. He looked quite pleased with himself as he stared at Harry from down his nose. Harry scowled back.
“Aren’t you Lucius Malfoy’s son?” Fred asked with a wrinkled nose.
“Funny you should mention Mr. Malfoy,” Flint said, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Let me show you the generous donation he’s given to our team.”
All seven of the Slytherins brandished polished, gleaming new brooms with the carved name ‘Nimbus Twothousand-and-One’ engraved on the handle.
“Newest model, just came out last month,” Flint said casually. “Outsrips the Two Thousand series by a model and– well, as for the Cleansweeps–” he smiled nastily at the brooms Fred and George clutched close, “they can’t compare.”
Harry scowled, eyes narrowing on Malfoy..
“So,” he started just as casually as Flint. “You bought your way on.”
It wasn’t a question. The Gryffindor team’s spirits were lifted slightly as they snickered. Malfoy bristled. Ron and Hermione, who had come over to see what was going on, smirked as well.
“At least none of the Gryffindors had to do that,” Hermione sniffed. “They made the team on pure talent.”
Malfoy scowled at Hermione with a venom.
“No one asked your opinion, you filthy Mudblood,” Malfoy spat. There was an immediate uproar of anger at his words. Flint had to dive to keep Fred and George from tackling Malfoy. The girls were screaming at him incomprehensibly. The shade of purple Oliver was turning would give Uncle Vernon a run for his money. Ron drew his wand, but before anything else could happen. A heavy hand landed on Malfoy’s shoulder.
“Detention, Mr. Malfoy,” Professor Jackson growled, appearing out of nowhere. Both teams flinched back as he and Professor Chase glared down at the now cowering boy. Both of them looked royally ticked. “Professor Chase will be giving you the first half for the rest of the day, and you’ll see me after dinner for the rest of it.”
“What?” Malfoy yelped, before he was dragged off by a stormy looking Professor Chase. Professor Jackson turned on his heel and gently leaned over to Hermione.
“Hermione, right?” Professor Jackson said softly. She nodded with glassy eyes. “Are you alright?”
“I…” She trailed off, but Professor Jackson just nodded in understanding.
“If you ever want to talk, my door is always open. For now, you should put this out of your mind and enjoy the rest of your day, okay?”
Hermione nodded tearfully. Harry laid a hand on her shoulder and soon had an armful of Hermione. He may not know what Malfoy said to her, but it didn’t take a genius to tell it was some kind of slur.
“Oh and Mr. Weasly?”
Fred, George, and Ron all turned to him. He chuckled.
“Ron,” he corrected. “I noticed that your wand was… barely hanging on for a gentle saying.”
Ron immediately yanked his wand out of sight from the sudden piercing gazes of his older brothers.
“I’ve informed Mr. and Mrs. Weasly, and the two will be picking you up this afternoon to go and get a new one. It’s dangerous to be using a broken wand. Come to my office after lunch, okay?”
Ron nodded, an embarrassed flush on his face. Professor Jackson smiled kindly and left the pitch. The Gryffindors cleared out as Harry held onto Hermione and Fred and George fussed over Ron for holding a broken wand.