𝒍𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒛𝒆 - pjo x hp [₂]

xxxi. mister snake

"𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐖𝐄 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐆𝐎?" Elias protested against going to their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson for the umpteenth time that hour.

Raya and her friends groaned in sync.

She put an arm over Elias' shoulder as they walked to class — mainly to make sure he didn't run away — and told him, "Elias, you'll be fine. We're all here with you. Worse case scenario, Nate will be more than happy to call him Mr. Snape and bully the shit out of him." 

Elias didn't look excited, mainly because he was scared of Snape as a Defense teacher. He substituted for Remus in their fourth year, and Elias had made a bad impression on him before the first class had started — making him hate Elias even more.

"Nate, if you don't bully him to get the attention off of me, I'll drop a spider in your bed," he threatened the other boy.

Nathaniel shrugged, "I would never give up the chance to bully Mr. Snape. I literally studied my ass off to get an 'O' in potions. I was at 'T' before the examinations."

"Fair point," Elias muttered.

Raya and Cierra exchanged amused glances, leading the boys into the class. Like always, Raya and Thomas sat next to each other in the front, Elias and Nathaniel behind them, and Cierra next to a Gryffindor, Katie Bell, behind them.

Raya hadn't looked around as they entered, but she examined the class now as she sat. 

Snape had imposed his personality upon the room already. It was gloomier than usual, as curtains had been drawn over the windows, and was lit by candlelight. New pictures adorned the walls, many of them showing people who appeared to be in pain, sporting grisly injuries or strangely contorted body parts. Nobody spoke as they settled down, looking around at the shadowy, gruesome pictures.

"I have not asked you to take out your books," said Snape, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk. A few of the students hastily put their books back in their bags. "I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention."

His black eyes roved over their upturned faces, lingering on Raya for a second longer. 

He'd suspected her to be Regulus' daughter when he saw her bright grey eyes for the first time. Raya wondered if now that his suspicions were confirmed, he saw Regulus whenever he looked at her.

"You have had six teachers in this subject so far, I believe," he continued, snapping his eyes away from hers. "Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject two years prior. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the seventh year N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced."

Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice. The class craned their necks to keep him in view.

"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."

Like fighting a hydra, Raya thought. For some reason, the analogy made sense.

"Your defenses," said Snape, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the 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 the ground.