A/N: First things first. I'm not sure if I mentioned that the information on Ulfhednar comes from Wikipedia.org, if I did then you should note that some of what appears here also came from Wikipedia.org. As a university student we're often told not to depend too much on the website for info, but I did. Oh, and Harry Potter Lexicon.
Also, I can't believe the Harry Potter video game is coming out before the book; I am so trying to get it. I have the first one, and the one for GoF, and I hope one day in the future that I can look back on this and laugh instead of cringe about wasting money. It's already a great memory for the grandkids: "You know, I was around when Harry Potter came out...."
Disclaimer: Yeah, not mine. But on the bright side I hope to start writing something that is all mine soon....
*****
Chapter Fourteen
It would not be Professor Bones awaiting me in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom when Connor walked me there for my Saturday afternoon tutorial, but the OGB. And once I had shut the door behind me and walked forward, confused, it was to discover that he was not alone. My father, Uncle Neville and Camilla were all there too, sitting around the teacher's desk, regarding me strangely.
Panicked, I looked to Dad. "I didn't tell a soul, I swear. I didn't tell anyone, anything."
Dad smiled, "I know, Lillie, I know you didn't tell anyone, but we need to talk to you."
Only mildly relieved, I asked, "So why are you all sitting around here like the Wizengamot? I thought I was walking into my sentencing hearing."
Unexpectedly, the OGB's jaw visibly clenched, and Dad and Uncle Neville exchanged an amused smile, that became, for Uncle Neville at least, a fit of stifled chortling. I didn't mean anything by it, but they clearly thought it was a joke and my being at his mercy every day after this until the end of the school year seemed to mean nothing to them. It was then left to Camilla to explain, "They want to explain what's going on. About them being away this winter break, and how it might be affecting you."
"But didn't you tell me that Wednesday night?" I asked.
Dad quickly retrieved some level of composure and spoke up, "I want to give a more detailed explanation, come and have a seat." He summoned a desk just before the table, and as I went to sit, asked, "How was your birthday, by the way? Did you like everything you got?"
I looked up at him, surprised at his timing, but replied anyway, "I can't play Quidditch. I can fly but don't ask me to manoeuvre a broom over a pitch with Bludgers and other players."
He stared at me unblinkingly for a moment, and then turned to Camilla, "Congratulations, you have a job for the summer, after you're done teaching her to duel, you can teach her to fly."
Not meaning to be rude, but unable to help myself, I asked, "Why aren't you teaching me anything? Why don't you do it?"
He did not look back at me. "Because I have to work. But Camilla has time-don't you Camilla? And Neville, you can spare your daughter for a few hours every week?"
Neville just smiled at him, but Camilla gave no response. I demanded then, "Why can't you do it? You and Mum have been talking about your having holiday time coming up, why can't you teach me then if you want me to play Quidditch so much?"
He gave me a surprised look and I looked down at my hands and muttered, "Sorry."
"Don't be," said the OGB. We all looked up at him, and my father clearly annoyed. "Your father is merely being cautious. Though to you they are only flying lessons, they might become duelling practice and then magical instruction that you, innocent little one, should never, ever face."
There were very few people who would dare to mock my father to his face, and this was clearly one of them. I looked back at my father, and saw the anger in his eyes, but when he noticed me it quickly vanished and he said, "Have you at least attempted to ride your broom?"
Here the OGB spoke up again, "I don't think she had the time, young Mr Lupin keeps her quite busy."
I gave up all pretence of caring that he was my teacher, I openly glared at him, flushing red. My father though, who I could spy out of the corner of my gaze at his left, had a blank expression on his face. I would not fool myself into thinking that wasn't worrying. I hadn't quite gotten around to telling him and Mum about me and Connor actually being a couple yet, and though they had teased me earlier, I seriously doubted that they really liked the idea.
Thankfully then, someone remembered what we were really there to discuss, Uncle Neville interrupted, "Harry... you have to get back and Professor Bones wants to get started with Lillie, shouldn't we be talking about that?"
"Oh, yes, right," said Dad, sitting up straight and clearing his throat, though his eyes never left the back of the OGB's head.
The OGB for his part remained where he was, leant against Professor Bones' desk, looking down at me with his arms folded. If he was aware of my Dad's gaze he didn't show it. And as Dad began to speak I looked away from the OGB and pretended that he wasn't there.
"Wednesday night, while I was waiting for an owl from you, some form of response about your gifts; I instead got a letter from Camilla here, explaining how you'd manage to discover her secret. You must understand that though I've always said that it is possibly responsible for the attacks on you, this was the worst possible news to receive. I have full confidence that you would not let anything slip, that you will keep this a secret because you are your mother's child... but you're also mine and I feared that, though you deserve this information, that it was your right to know, telling you would mean you going after the person who's been after you. That you would find some way to the truth and get yourself hurt in the process or in confronting them. You've always been headstrong and borderline disobedient, so what would change here? It was stupid, but I thought I was doing the right thing, by not telling you I was keeping you safe."
The OGB didn't have to say a thing but I could tell that somewhere inside he was laughing. But I was distracted from this by Dad's next words, "Of course you found out anyway and here we are. So how do I begin...? Well... Bellatrix Lestrange is not dead."
I wanted to react, but all I could muster was to stop completely still and wonder at the week I was having. What was the next revelation? Voldemort too had not been killed but was actually a member of a travelling circus in the Balkans?
Unaware of my thoughts, Dad continued, "She is in Azkaban, of course, but she's been Kissed, so it is as if she's dead. It took us years to capture her, as a matter of fact your mother made a dramatic rescue the day we captured her, taking Camilla out of the Ministry's hands with Bellatrix lying trapped before a line of Aurors on the beach nearby. A moment later, a day, we could have lost her forever and ended up with the Third Wizard War on our hands. Bellatrix was almost completely insane by that day, but her one lucid thought was of getting to the child she'd had with the Dark Lord."
My gaze flicked over to Nike/Camilla. Her face was impassive, calm, if this was affecting her, like the OGB she had learned not to show it.
"In the years that it took for her to be captured though, she'd been quite a busy woman. Voldemort had left specific instructions as to what should be done with his daughter, and even though they no longer had her she'd been carrying out those instructions to a T. She'd gone to his old allies on the Continent and brought word that though they'd lost the first stage of the war; his heir was alive and well so that, with their help of course, they could win the second. They all knew she was mad and still they listened to her, the promise of success, bribes and stories she told were far too convincing to pass up... which brings us to now."
He stopped talking, his eyes darkened and stormy, as memories warred with each other in his mind, the past against the present. It was the reason he never really spoke about work much, and why it was our mother who had to explain what happened in the Second War. After a few tense, silent minutes though, he continued as before.
"A few months ago we learned that one of those who had listened to her, a Konstandin Rugova, had gained ground and followers in Eastern Europe for what he called `Lady Voldemort's War'. We have no idea if he meant mother or daughter, but that didn't matter, what did was that this Rugova was having remarkable success and getting closer and closer to us. We had to stop him, so we went, which, unfortunately, is why we were away for the holiday. He has many friends, and I, though I'd gone over there at one point during the war, didn't make very many. The attacks on you, we believe is his way of showing me that he can affect me as much as, or rather, even more than we can affect him. Thankfully though, at the moment he is cornered, and by this afternoon he should be captured and this will be over. This means... you won't have to worry about him again."
"But he won't be the last," said the OGB from his perch on the table.
"I know," I surprised myself by replying.
Dad gave me a sad look, "It's why you have to have these extra lessons with Professor Bones. I can't risk you being unprepared anymore. The people who would want to hurt you aren't the typical ones everyone else has; you'll have Dark Wizards bent on proving themselves. A prophecy made before I was even born set my life, fated me to this, but there was nothing as far as I know about you, so you shouldn't have to face this. But you still do. And I won't be around forever... I'm not even really around now... so you have to learn to defend yourself."
I gave him a wide-eyed stare, which had begun somewhere around the time he mentioned "proving themselves", and said, "Then you should be teaching me now, you have firsthand experience with Dark Wizards. Does this mean that you'll teach me now?"
"Magnolia..." he said warningly, and the fact that he did not use my nickname told that he was serious.
I was forced to ignore it, "But Dad you just said that there are going to be people trying to prove themselves by going after you or me, surely that means that you should teach me now. I'm your daughter and I barely know anything beyond everybody else! So what if you saw something scary in the Second War, I'm facing something scary now!"
"Magnolia Potter!" he said, shocked.
"But Dad," I protested.
"Magnolia, I will not say it again..." he warned.
"Fine," I said, sullenly, looking away from him, cursing him in my mind. What was he so afraid of? After getting attacked in a bathroom, chased by Dementors and sent a letter bomb, I still could take on the world. Did he think he was protecting me like this? Did he really?
I heard him sigh, then the grating sound his chair made as he stood and walked round the table to me, where he stopped and bent to meet my eyes with a smile. I did not respond, but he kissed my forehead and said, "I can't stop certain things from happening to you, but I'm sure as hell not going to let anyone get away with them."
I offered him a smile then, barely an upturn of the corners of my mouth, but he continued apparently satisfied, "Now about this thing with Connor. I like Connor, I do, but you see-"
The OGB interrupted then, "Mr Potter, given the circumstances, I would like to volunteer myself to be your daughter's personal tutor instead of Professor Bones."
Everyone looked up at him and Dad with a look of obvious surprise. He explained, "As it stands you cannot do it yourself, and Professor Bones, though willing, may be inadequate. She may be able to teach a class full of students on an ordinary level, but as you have just said, your daughter may face Dark Wizards, and of those Professor Bones has had little experience. Not to mention, if I am not mistaken, the only lessons Miss Potter has received thus far is the duelling practice she has received with Miss Longbottom. Professor Bones has had weeks to prepare and very little to show for it, by now I would have had Miss Potter a more tasking opponent for Miss Longbottom."
It was amazing how they all seemed to call her "Camilla" or "Miss Longbottom" knowing her real name, every time I looked at her now I heard "Nike" or "Lady Voldemort" in my head.
With some malice, Dad said, "Still desperately pursuing the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, are you?"
The OGB neither flinched nor took the bait, but said smoothly, "On the contrary, I have proven myself many times more capable than Professor Bones, who I taught, as you would recall and am merely putting my services at your disposal. Remus Lupin and his wife trust me enough to allow me to tutor their only son, a boy they treasure more dearly than anything they can afford to possess. Mrs Malfoy and Miss Ginny Weasley often request that I assist Rigel in any way that I can, short of cheating, which I would never do, and he has in turn proven that he barely needs me. I know Miss Longbottom's secret and have kept it all these years, and in fact is responsible for why she can tutor your daughter now.... And your wife has recently sought my counsel, following on a tradition that began in the middle of the war, surely that means that I can be trusted to instruct this child too?"
Somehow he didn't make it sound like begging, though I thought it was and assumed Dad would point it out. But Dad actually seemed to consider it before replying, "When did Hermione consult you?"
"I am afraid the matter is rather confidential, and since she appears not to have informed you, if you seek an answer you shall have to ask her," he said. "Now, shall I instruct the girl or not? After this I will not ask again and the offer will no longer be available."
I didn't like the idea of the OGB teaching me beyond what he did not do in class. Just the thought of him finally turning his attentions to me when history showed that that was not something in my favour was frightful. And then, I remembered the way he'd looked at his hands that day in the dungeons. Why was he offering to do something he surely couldn't? Of course, he'd also been teaching Connor, Rigel and Camilla, and this would be a good way to find out what was going on between him and Connor....
I spoke up, "Oh let him teach me instead, please Dad? Professor Bones is always busy and everyone else will just think I'm getting special favours from her because of you. I know that shouldn't matter but it's awful to be here and have people talking about you behind your back because your Dad's Harry Potter. No one cares that I'm Magnolia Potter, everyone just sees you. If Professor Snape teaches me, I wouldn't have to hear that and you wouldn't believe how much better it would be to go to school here...."
He looked at me surprised, as did Camilla and Uncle Neville, and then said, slowly, "If you say so...."
The OGB spoke up at once, "Good, the matter's settled. Miss Potter I expect you in my classroom tonight after dinner."
I was suddenly struck by the feeling that I'd just done something very stupid.
Uncle Neville stood then and said, "Harry, we have to go...."
"Yes, we should," he replied. But he did not move in a hurry. Instead he drew me into a tight embrace, I rested my head against his shoulder and he gently stroked my hair for a while, whispered "I love you", kissed my hair, cheeks and forehead and offered me a smile. When I smiled back he said, "I'll see you later, I swear."
"I know, I'll wait for your owl, I love you too," I replied, almost automatically. It was the way we'd parted every time he was about to go off on a particularly dangerous mission, but each time Dad sounded so earnest it was like new.
He and Uncle Neville then left the room with the OGB behind, and I turned to see them draw Professor Bones away from the doorway to talk. I turned back to find that I was left alone with Camilla, we looked at each other awkwardly a moment and stood and made to leave. She stopped me though when she sighed, "Oh great, this just means Professor Bones is going to have a whole lot more free time with Dad. Can you talk to Rigel and get him to put in a good word with his mother?"
I lifted both eyebrows at her, and then confessed, "Rigel and I haven't spoken in days... I'm not sure... maybe you could do it?"
"I tried," she said sadly. "But I don't think he heard a word I said."
As soon as I was out the door and walking down the corridor, someone came up behind me and grasped my hand. Alarmed, I spun round to find a grinning Connor behind me, and he did not hesitate to give me a quick, light kiss, before asking, "Don't you have class?"
"Were you waiting around for me to come out? What if it had gone on for the full two hours?" I asked.
"As I was leaving I saw a group of First Years hanging around down the hall, they were waiting for your Dad to come out to ask him for his autograph. When I heard that your Dad was here I decided to stick around, so... don't you have class?" he asked.
I smiled, "No, I may have a new teacher and new time. Professor Snape's volunteered and Dad agreed. I have class at nine."
Instead of the mild disappointment I'd expected, to my surprise Connor looked horrified. Unnerved, I asked, "What? What's wrong?"
He refused to answer, and quickly rearranged his expression into a smiling one, and said, "So now that we have all this free time, what are we supposed to do for the rest of the afternoon?"
I continued to stare at him a while before replying, "Let's go for a walk. I think there were some people playing Gobstones in the Great Hall. Eoin stinks at it; I've wanted to see him covered in slime since I first found out."
His smile became genuine, and he extended his hand, "Shall we?"
But as I walked away I thought of his reaction, it worried me, in more ways than one.
*****
There was an unexpected benefit to having class with the OGB that night. His classroom was in the dungeons, the dungeons were Slytherin territory, and therefore going down there meant that I would run into Rigel. Which I did, and I wasted no time with this opportunity.
Not caring that he had Bijou and at least four other of his Housemates with him I marched right over to him and said, "I want to speak to you."
He turned to look at me, clearly surprised to find me in the dungeons without him. But it would be one of his Housemates to speak first, "What's this? Who's a brave Gryffindor? Wolfboy's girlfriend. You know, your Dad might be Harry Potter but that does not give you the right to be down here outside of classes."
I ignored him; no Slytherin would go after me as long as Rigel was present. "You heard me Rigel; we've been friends since we've been babies, why aren't you speaking to me now? All because of some stupid argument over Connor? Or did I do something else wrong?"
Bijou made to reply then but he cut her off, "Nothing, Magnolia. Go back to your boyfriend."
I stared at him, stunned, for a full three minutes, before replying, "I don't believe this... you're jealous...?"
Deceptively cool, he replied, "You wound me, I'm not jealous of that multicoloured werewolf cub."
His friends began to snicker, Bijou loudest before saying, "Run along to your little wolf. The full moon's next week, don't you want to see him as much as you can before then?"
I couldn't help it, I snapped, "Shut up, you stupid cow! I was talking to Rigel."
That was a terrible mistake; protection against attack was more or less limited to things I didn't start. There was a moment of silence where we all stood processing what I'd just said, and then she drew her wand and tried to hex me. I say tried, because though I too had drawn my wand and was halfway through a particularly nasty hex I'd learned from Kimberly, Rigel called out then, "Stop! Come on, Magnolia, we'll go talk. Let's go talk now."
He stepped away from the group, roughly grasped my arm and dragged me away from his Housemates, saying in a loud whisper, "What are you doing down here? What was that? Do you want Bijou to kill you?"
"Then she better join the queue," I said, loudly. "I'm down here for lessons with Professor Snape, but since I saw you there I thought that we should talk. Why aren't you talking to me anymore? Because you're jealous of me and Connor?"
He stopped walking then to give me one of Milo's famed "Oh please" looks, but it was defeated when he said, "You're his girlfriend now; you shouldn't be speaking to me."
I hit him at once, hard. "Don't be thick! Connor can't stop me from talking to you, no one can!"
Rubbing his arm, he insisted on his point. "Just go to your class Magnolia, your boyfriend wouldn't want-"
I cut him off by hitting him again, even harder. When he looked back at me, furious, I said, "The next time's going to be a hex. I said stop saying that! Now, why aren't you speaking to me?"
At first he didn't want to answer, and I stopped and folded my arms, taking care to show him my wand, intent of trying out the curse I'd been thwarted in my attempt to use on Bijou. He began, "Connor and I are mortal enemies, you're fraternising with the enemy."
I blinked, then sucked my teeth and drew my wand. "I'm sorry I'm going to have to do this but you're a twat and I want a straight answer...."
He reached forward and grabbed my hand, trapping my wand in an awkward position between my fingers and said, "Leave this alone."
"No," I replied.
"It's none of your business or going to do anything for you. Leave it alone," he said firmly.
"No," I repeated. "Why did you call Connor a `freak'? You love Uncle Lupin to death, I've seen it myself, and yet you call his son a freak?"
He just stared at me for a moment, and then he said, "Do you know what Connor does...?"
I rolled my eyes, and dropped my voice to a whisper, "Yes, I know about the comic book! What does that have to do with anything? What, are you jealous of that too?"
Calmly, he replied, "Because you're angry with me I'm going to ignore that, you have a tendency to say nasty things like that when we fight.... However, I'm not jealous of my dear cousin, with a few well-placed sentences I can expose and destroy him. I don't do it because I don't want to see him go through the stuff his Dad does. The way Grandmother speaks about Cousin Remus sometimes.... No, I won't do that to Connor."
I lifted an eyebrow at him, "So what, you're sparing him pain? You're the benevolent Malfoy, the one who does not harm anyone but likes to have things over people's heads to keep them well-behaved?"
"Magnolia..." he said, warningly, an eerie impression of my father.
I stopped, and apologised, "Listen, I'm sorry, but you're being sickeningly arrogant and it's either I mock you or I take your front teeth out. You are speaking about my boyfriend after all."
Through clenched teeth he replied, "I know, but apparently you don't... anything at all...."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded, confused.
"I can see that Connor didn't tell you everything about that comic book..." was all he would say in reply, and then he turned and began to walk away, back to his Housemates.
Still confused, even more so now and getting angry again, I called after him, "Wait? What don't I know? Tell me! I can keep a secret too you know, I've heard some things in the last few days...."
He didn't turn round, or stop, but instead raised his hand and shook a scolding finger at me. "I can't tell you, been sworn to secrecy and all that stuff. Just like how you found out the other stuff you know, you're going to have to do this one on your own."
I nearly screamed in frustration, "Just tell me, damn you!"
He stopped and turned back at me mildly surprised. Then said, "If you want to know so bad, here's a clue... find out what's going on between him and the Old Greasy Bat. You can do that now, like me, Connor and Camilla, you have secret special lessons with him."
"You could save me the trouble with a few well-placed sentences," I replied.
"What? And spare you the nightmare of being a distrustful girlfriend in danger of destroying your relationship? What kind of `jealous' person would I be?" he said rhetorically, then turned and left me standing in the middle of the hall once again with a mystery to solve. If this turned out to be nothing though-not that I'd really done anything about the one about the person trying to kill me-I was going to kill them both.
My chat with Rigel made me late by a full minute for my appointment with the OGB-Connor had forced me down to the dungeons early, again-and, surprise, surprise, he was not happy about it.
Without looking up from his desk as I stepped into the room, he said, "Miss Potter, I said after dinner, dinner ends at nine, it is now one minute past that time. This is a serious matter; your life is in danger, when I give you a time I expect you to comply with it." Before I could respond though, he continued, "I had foolishly hoped that your mother would have acted as a buffer against the transference of some of your father's finer qualities, but I appear to have been mistaken. Arrogance, foolhardiness and obstinacy will get you only one thing in the world you are fast growing up in, killed. Do not let this happen again."
I stood quietly before his desk, unsure of what to say, unable to come up with anything in the first place and unwilling to find out what he would say if I did. He looked up at me then and asked, "I'm sure you know the finer points of duelling?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Well then forget them all, in a real wizard duel the rules are few, the niceties are not often observed and the only objective when you're faced with a `Dark Wizard' is survival. I know Camilla has been tutoring you, let's see how well you've absorbed what she's taught."
I stifled a groan, and walked down the room from his desk while he Banished the desks and cauldrons to give us room. The confidence with which he spoke told me that I couldn't depend on the possible unsteadiness of his hands sparing me, and given his experience he would probably sweep the floor with me. My only hope was that I'd been spared of serious injury by his touching, and somewhat disturbing concern for my safety.
When we both stood at opposite ends of the room, he called, "On three... one, two...."
Deciding that waiting for "three" would be a very bad idea, I called out the words of the Babbling Curse over his last count so that he stood unable to formulate the words to any counter-curse he thought to use. He looked visibly surprised that his mouth seemed to have taken on a life of its own, and even more so that I was responsible for it too. The feeling was mutual, I couldn't quite believe I'd done that, and therefore missed when he suddenly brought his wand arm down and sent my wand shooting out of my grasp while I was thrown back across the floor to the wall.
Stunned by his counter-attack, and sensing the wall getting closer and closer I wrapped my arms around my head and
braced myself. I would come to a stop before it though, when he suddenly called from the front of the classroom,
"Arresto Momentum!"
I looked up as soon as I stopped, found that I was inches from the wall and then turned to face him walking towards me.
His manner suggested strongly with every step that I was in for a world of hurt, but his facial expression was
unreadable and his voice toneless as he said, "Was that you or Camilla?"
"Me... I think," I replied as he extended a hand to help me up.
I took it warily and once I was on my feet again, he said, "A Dementor is a Dark Creature born of misery. It feeds on happiness until all that is left is gloom, weakening the victim for it to bestow its non-fatal but nevertheless deadly Kiss. To repel a Dementor one must use a Patronus, created, unfortunately, of the same happy memories the Dementors feed upon. You are fourteen; just one year older than your father was when he successfully used the Patronus Charm. For your sake I hope you can do the same. Come with me."
He turned and walked back to the front of the classroom, with me reluctantly at his heels. I was not at all sure that I'd quite managed to escape punishment for cursing him and this did not improve my mood.
When we once again stood before the teacher's desk he said, "Dark Magic is not limited to Dark Creatures though. Kappas, Red Caps, Dementors, Basilisks, Banshees, Boggarts, Grindylows, Hinkypunks, Vampires and Werewolves are Dark Creatures which can be repelled in various ways with various spells that each requires a lot of power. Power... unfortunately, that you do not yet possess. Professor Bones was planning to teach you to defend yourself by mimicking the methods of another, but she herself has little understanding of Dark Magic, and even less experience save for the Battle of Hogwarts. Also, she was working on the assumption that you are a very powerful witch already, and that at the end of the day you would be able to defend yourself on your own initiative." He gazed directly into my eyes. "I do not suffer from such delusions. Intelligence, I will grant you, you learn quickly and are able to apply that knowledge later on. Natural ability... well that waits to be seen."
It took all the will I could muster to prevent myself from giving a reaction I was sure to regret.
"As I was saying though, Dark Creatures are not the only forms of Dark Magic. That letter he sent for example contained a powder that explodes upon contact with air and burns as fire anything it comes into contact with. Your father wishes that you be taught to defend yourself, but that is what you're learning anyway, to defend yourself against Dark Magic in all its forms. And your attacker has proven that he can use multiple forms of Dark Magic if he so chooses, which means that he is well-versed in the Dark Arts. Because of this, it is my belief that these lessons are redundant. However, since your father insists... what can you tell me about werewolves, and none of that comic book nonsense, what have you learned?"
I stared at him for a moment, then replied, "Er... they're considered Dark Creatures for what they become at the full moon: a wolf-like creature that can be distinguished from other wolves by, among other things, its pupils, snout and tail. Otherwise the werewolf is a human being, though Fenrir Greyback is known to have had partially morphed himself outside of the full moon. Muggles consider such a person a lycanthrope, derived from the Greek word for werewolf, lycanthropos. This is possibly based off of the Greek myth of Lycaon, a Muggle who was said to have been transformed into one by his cannibalism. Many cultures of the world have their own version of a werewolf; the French call it loup-garou, the Spanish, hombre lobo, the Irish, faoladh, the Portuguese, lobisomen and the Italians, lupo mannaro. A person becomes a werewolf through its bite for the curse is spread through the saliva. There is no known cure, the bites have to specially treated due to the nature of the wounds, and Muggles believe that silver is a repellent."
His expression was blank as he replied, "Spoken like your mother, verbatim from a book. But you're wrong about the cure, there is one: death. However I am only to teach you how to repel one, and that's where duelling becomes handy."
Unable to resist, I said, "I thought the only way to avoid a werewolf is to run the other way."
He looked at me, "The average werewolf's legs are twice the length of the average man. You'd be dead within two strides. Now, if you're done emulating your father for the evening we can begin. Duelling positions."
As I began to walk back to my earlier position down the classroom he said, "And Miss Potter...?"
I turned. "Ten points from Gryffindor for cheek."
I stomped away wishing his hands would give out on him one day when he faced a werewolf himself. What a terrible thing to wish, terrible, terrible, for the bad ones are often those that come true.
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