Azkaban

Anticipation

Sitting in the Great Hall, Amarea played with her food again as she thought about how McGonagall had responded to Harry's outburst in Umbridge's class. Minerva had sat in silence while Harry told her what happened and was congratulated by the professor shortly afterward. She was even more pleased to hear how Amarea had stepped in, as Minerva had been wanting to do the same. Professor McGonagall, no matter how pleased she was, told Harry to be more careful, saying, "Misbehavior in Dolores Umbridge's class could cost you more than House points and a detention." Having Harry brought up in the Ministry once again so soon was something Amarea wanted to avoid, agreeing with Minerva. 

Amarea left the office with a small smile on her face and biscuits in hand. 

Harry left with a scowl, having found out that the professor couldn't do anything about his week-long detentions. 

Although there was a smile on her face, Amarea was deep in thought over Minerva's words. The Ministry of Magic is trying to interfere at Hogwarts. The whispers that circled the large room irked Amarea. "He says he saw Cedric Diggory murdered...He reckons he dueled with You-Know-Who...Come off it...Amarea too....flipped the professor off...Who does he think he's kidding?" Amarea used to love drama, making quite a bit of it when she was younger. Now, all she could think about was how students were talking so carelessly about the drama that had a much larger picture. The rumors circulating the castle were disgusting, and some students seemed to have no remorse for Diggory or Harry. 

Watching as the Golden trio stormed out of the hall, Amarea wished that she could do the same. However, Dumbledore was watching her closely and she knew he wanted to talk to her.

"I've thought up a teaching experience for you."

Amarea almost spits out her drink at the sentence. "A what," she asks quickly? Although she knew sooner or later she would have to put her weight in at Hogwarts, she didn't expect it so soon. 

Dumbledore nods, a smile on his face as he talks, "You'll teach history."

"No offense, Albus, but you already have history classes. I don't think your poor students need any more boring shit crammed into their heads."

He shakes his head. "I want you to teach about your history." Seeing her surprised look, he chuckles, "That's not what I meant. I want you to teach about old magic."

"No."

The Great Hall quiets at the interaction. She barely seemed to notice that she had pushed her chair back and stood in her bought of rage. "Please, take your seat again. I think this will turn out to be a wondrous opportunity for everyone involved."

She glares at Dumbledore and takes a deep breath, slowly realizing the attention she was getting. Her dark blue eyes scoured the row of students, who quickly avoided her gaze. Pulling her chair back, Amarea sits back down. "It's not happening," she says, pulling her hood back up; it had fallen when she stood too quickly. 

"Why not," Dumbledore asks? "You know more about it than anyone else. This would be a good opportunity for the students to learn more about where magic came from...we can only teach so far back."

"Good; old magic has shifted away for a reason. It's dangerous. Anyone can stray into dark magic too easily."

Readjusting his half-moon glasses, Dumbledore clasps his hands together in thought. "There is still dark magic today. Students know-"

"I don't think you understand. It's one thing to cast a killing curse, to make pain strike someone from every angle. The curses you have now are completely different from how magic was used ages ago. You have no idea how much darkness, how much...evil can come from a single spell."

"There is no evil in sorcery, only in the hearts of men," Dumbledore pipes up.

Amarea stiffens in her chair. "Do not use my father's quotes to convince me of this. Although there is no evil in sorcery, the way that we can manipulate magic is evil. Look at this hall...I would bet anything that no one in here besides me knows a single thing about real magic. Not even you." Raising an eyebrow, the Headmaster watches as Amarea angrily rambles on. "No one here understands anything about pure magic. Magic is neither good nor bad, however, it is a powerful force. It lives and breaths inside the user like a flame. You use magic however you want now, but pure magic has rules, laws, a whole religion. You can't just...do magic. It has to be with you the whole time, like a partner." Looking at Dumbledore, she grinds her teeth. These people had no idea how old magic worked, and they just wanted her to teach a single class about it. Shaking her head, Amarea sighs in disbelief; magic was more complex than modern witches and wizards could ever comprehend.

"That's all the more reason for you to teach it. You can help them understand."

"Did you not hear anything I just said," Amarea grits out? "Old magic is dangerous. The line between good and evil is constantly thrown around, and once you go down a dark path it takes a damn good sorcerer to pull themselves out."

Dumbledore nods in understanding, "Your first class will start tomorrow."

---

The following day was rainy, just as the previous one had been. The sight had made Amarea crawl back into bed, wishing for a peaceful sleep in vain. Images of dementors clouded her dreams and thoughts every time she closed her eyes. It was past noon when a House Elf finally woke her. She begrudgingly got up for the day, changing out of her usual outfit for an oversized hoodie and sweatpants. Grabbing a pair of fuzzy socks and slippers, she threw her hood up and found her way through the hallways quickly. The lack of students made her realize how long she had been in her room; it had to be lunch already. Taking the stairs two at a time, she made her way to the Ravenclaw tower, finding her classroom. 

Throwing open the door, Amarea grimaces. The room was dark with heavy drapes covering the windows. Cobwebs were scattered across the room and dust littered every surface, throwing Amarea into a sneezing fit. Strolling over, Amarea knocks on one of the old desks. It seemed sturdy enough. Lifting the top, she thanks the universe that nothing was living inside. Amarea smacks the drapes, coughing at the dust. Waving her wand, she quickly collects all the dust and cobwebs before opening a window and allowing it to burn outside. She lets her hood down and opens the door, waving her wand again to summon cleaning equipment. Grabbing the broom, Amarea starts to sweep the room, listening to the sound of birds outside. 

A knock at the door makes her turn, and she pulls her hood up halfway absent-mindedly. A House Elf stands at the door, and she raises an eyebrow in surprise. "How may I help you," Amarea asks?

The Elf squeaks in surprise, "No, Miss Wyylt. I've come to help you prepare for your class tonight."

A smile grows on Amarea's face as she looks the elf over; she always did have a soft spot for House Elves, just like her father and mother had. "That's very kind of you. Call me Amarea, please...And your name is?"

"Dobby, Miss."

She smiles at him, "Well. I could definitely use some help." Dobby and Amarea worked well together, and he quickly brightened her mood, even changing her mind about teaching students. Amarea could even go as far as to say she was anticipating the class...maybe.