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—WHEN IT WAS TIME FOR BREAKFAST, RIGEL WALKED INTO THE GREAT HALL WITH DRACO AND BLAISE, WHO WERE TALKING ABOUT THE NEW POTIONS PROFESSOR. "—I heard he's been teaching for decades!" Draco exclaimed, looking appalled. "He even taught my father!"
Blaise hummed, sitting down next to him, while Rigel sat down in front of them.
Rigel put some bacon and eggs on his plate, then immediately pushed it away, feeling nauseous.
"Ri, trying out for quidditch, right?" Draco asked. He was the Slytherin quidditch captain, because Rigel had declined when Snape tried giving him the position, even though everyone knew Snape hated him very much.
"No."
"What—why?!" Blaise asked, looking appalled.
"I don't like quidditch anymore." mumbled Rigel, shrugging.
Draco and Blaise shared a shocked look.
Not only did everyone know Rigel liked quidditch more than everyone else, they also could agree on he was the best at it, even if they hated him.
"Rigel, are you feeling alright?" asked his cousin.
"Of course." Rigel said and stood up, "I'll see you both in class."
••
Hiding in a nearby corridor, Rigel pulled out his antidepressants and swallowed a pill, then put it away.
He walked to their first class: DADA with Snape.
After a few minutes of sitting down, Professor Snape walked in.
"The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."
Rigel stared at Snape.
It was surely one thing to respect the Dark Arts, another to speak of them, as Snape was doing, with a loving caress in his voice?
Even though Rigel himself was fascinated by most of the aspect of the dark arts, he wasn't going on blabbering about how much he loved it like Snape obviously was.
"Your defenses," said Snape, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as rhe arts you seek to undo. These pictures—" he indicated a few of them as he swept past "—give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse—" he waved a hand toward a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony "—feel the Dementor's Kiss—" a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall "—or provoke the aggression of the Inferius—" a bloody mass upon ground.
"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" said Parvati Patil in a high pitched voice. "Is it definite, is he using them?"
Oh, he was definitely using them. Rigel thought.
"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Snape, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now..."
He set off again around the other side of the classroom toward his desk, and again, they watched him as he walked, his dark robes billowing behind him.
"...you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?"
Hermione's hand shot into the air.
Snape took his time looking around at everybody else, making sure he had no choice, before saying curtly, "Very well. Miss Granger?"
"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," said Hermione, "which gives you a split-second advantage."
"An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six—" said Snape dismissively.
Draco, who was next to Rigel, sniggered.
"—but correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress in using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some lack."
"You will now divide," Snape went on, "into pairs. One partner will attempt jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."
A reasonable amount of cheating ensued; many people were merely whispering the incantation instead of saying it aloud.
Typically, about five minutes into the lesson Rigel managed to repel Draco's muttered Jelly-Legs Jinx without uttering a single word, earning 20 points to Slytherin, which he had only gotten because he himself was a Slytherin, or else Snape would've surely ignored him.
Snape swept between them as they practiced, looking just as much like an overgrown bat as ever, lingering to watch Draco struggle now.
Draco, who was supposed to be jinxing Rigel, was purple in the face, his lips tightly compressed to save himself from the temptation of muttering the incantation.
Rigel had his wand raised, waiting on tenterhooks to repel a jinx that seemed unlikely ever to come.
"I thought you were taught better, Malfoy." said Snape lowly. "Here— let me show you -"
Rigel tensed.
Snape turned his wand on Rigel so fast that Rigel reacted instinctively; all thought of nonverbal spells forgotten, he yelled, "Protego!"
His Shield Charm was so strong Snape was knocked off-balance and hit a desk.
The whole class had looked around and now watched as Snape righted himself, scowling.
"Do you remember me telling you we are practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?"
"Black. And yes," said Rigel stiffly.
"Yes, sir."
"There's no need to call me 'sir,' Professor." The words had escaped him before he knew what he was saying.
Several people gasped, including Drco.
Behind Snape, however, Blaise, and a few Gryffindors grinned appreciatively. All thoughts of Rigel being in contact with the dark lord forgotten at the moment.
"Detention, Saturday night, my office," said Snape. "I do not take cheek from anyone, Black... not even the dark lord's companion."
Rigel glared at him immediately.
Tom definitely was going to love this.
••
"That was brilliant, Rigel!" chortled Blaise, once they were safely on their way to break a short while later.
"You really shouldn't have said it," said Draco, frowning at them both. "What made you?"
"He tried to jinx me, in case you didn't notice!" fumed Rigel, looking extremely frustrated.
It was enough that he felt dizzy and drowsy, so the thought of the teacher that hated him most, for reasons Rigel didn't know other than the fact that his biological father had bullied him (Sirius and Remus had told him that once after first year), being able to harm him made him fume.
"Why doesn't he use another guinea pig for a change? What's Dumbledore playing at, anyway, letting him teach Defense?" Rigel snarled.
"Well," said Draco, "I thought he sounded a bit like you."
"Like me?" scoffed Rigel with a side glance at his cousin. "Atleast I don't go blabbering about liking the dark arts, Draco. Not like your godfather did."
