//------------------------------// // Chapter 13 // Story: The Gate // by computerneek //------------------------------// “You know, it’s amazing how boring a ghost can be,” one of the Gryffindor History of Magic instructors mutters to the Hufflepuff next to her. The Hufflepuff pauses in the middle of doodling on a spare sheet of parchment.  “Yeah. Think we should get Stripes on it after the papa tango?” Yearling raises an eyebrow, looking up at Professor Binns again, droning on with no apparent idea of how well the class was following along.  At least half the class is involved in their own small conversations rather than paying attention to him; they’ve decided the book will be a better source of instruction material than the instructor.  “Eh, maybe. We’ll want to run it past Drops or Star first.” “True.  I don’t think Star is going to have the knowledge necessary to do anything, though- ghosts are right up Stripes’ alley.” “Hmm…  Yeah. But we don’t know anything about them as-is.  Stripes is still working on the papa tango, and Star is still envious of her, ah, unique advantage.” “Drops first, then.  I’d hate to take it to Star only to have her fail dismally where Stripes promptly succeeds.  Drops can- hopefully- help decide who to take it to first.” “It does make me wonder exactly what Stripes will do, though.” “That…  That is a good question.  I mean, he’s staff, so she’s not going to exorcise him or anything- I doubt she’d try with any of the ghosts around here, for that matter.  Resurrection is probably off the table as well, with how old he was when he died.  Hmm…” “Hey, Twilight?  How’s Agent Sickle Star doing?” Twilight glances up, her feather dancing a pirouette above her desk.  “Agent who?” “Moondancer.” “Oh.”  She glances to the side, where the named mare’s feather is pretending to be three feathers.  “Eh, she’s doing okay.” Moondancer raises an eyebrow, glancing up at it.  “You’re talking about the eroch spotum in the seventh lobe of the matrix, right?” “Yeah.  Swap it for a feroch gallus and you’ll have a self-sustaining spell.” “A feroch gallus…?  Oh, yeah, that would do it.  Thanks.” She makes the prescribed alteration to her spell, and her feather is shortly pretending to be thirty feathers, all on its own this time.  “Any particular reason you asked, Bonbon?” She shrugs, before she gestures at her own feather, floating dutifully in the air over her desk.  “Making small talk while those less talented than us get it right.” “All right then,” Professor Flitwick announces to the class, right on time.  “That makes everyone, and only five minutes in, to boot. Fifteen points are in order for both Slytherin and Ravenclaw, I believe.  Now, I was advised this would be a good time to cover what can go wrong and how to prevent or solve it, but aside from Baruffio’s mistake, there really isn’t anything to go wrong on this one.” Twilight’s and Moondancer’s hands instantly go up in perfect sync. He picks one.  “Ah, Miss Sparkle?” Twilight hides a smile- it has been so nice not being bowed to- and answers.  “I beg to disagree, Sir. The spell works by constantly vanishing the air around the object and re-conjuring it instantly, momentarily solidified and supported before breaking down again.  While this method has the virtue of a straightforward invocation, it’s power-intensive and potentially hazardous should one’s focus falter while handling something fragile. Wouldn’t it be cheaper and safer to use a different spell- like Gravitanium Adjunct!- to levitate it?”  Her feather, having dropped to the table moments before, floats effortlessly into the air. Professor Flitwick raises his eyebrow.  “Gravitanium Adjunct?” he asks. “Yes, Professor.  It’s somewhat significantly harder to master and with a higher activation threshold, but it can be closed off into a self-sustained spell rather easily and is utterly safe, being based in gravitational manipulation rather than physical forces.” “Ahh…” “This class is a joke,” Princess Luna storms out of the classroom, before turning to the nearest Agent.  “Wouldn’t you agree?” The Agent, a Slytherin named Hard Head, nods legitimately.  “Definitely,” he states. “They’d learn more if we put on a play of the Chaos Years, and that’s saying something.” Luna puts a hand to her chin.  “I’m teaching in fifteen minutes, too…  Hmm. What can we do to make it actually useful?  Have the RESS found anything about the ‘dark arts’?” Shake.  “Nah. All we’ve found is the artefacts in Nocturn, and none of them are truly dangerous.  Category one and two enchantments, for the most part, and a couple category threes.  We’re still looking for someone with experience in the matter.” “Drat!  So, what do you suppose we do?”  The entire rest of the class is listening attentively by now, even though they’re in the passage outside the classroom. “Well, we could head for the library and read up on a few generic shield spells.  We haven’t been to worried about those so far, but until we find something to target, that’s about the best we’re gonna be able to teach.”  He glances back at the rest of the class. “And knowing this group, five minutes should be enough for us to figure out enough spells to keep our students busy for two weeks.”  Back up at Luna. “Same for the other houses’ teams on the same subject.” Luna grins.  “Let’s do it.” The entire class of students vanishes into thin air in somewhat of a staggered mess.  One or two jog in the direction of the library while Professor Quirrell stares blankly at the space his Slytherin class had left behind. “How are they shaping up?” Professor Snape asks Professors McGonagall and Flitwick in the staffroom.  His first Potions class with the Equestrians is coming up in about an hour. “Decently,” Professor McGonagall nods.  “I get the idea they’re all well-trained already, but know little of our magic.” “Ah…  I had one Twilight Sparkle spontaneously design a new levitation spell- Gravitanium Adjunct- because Wingardium Leviosa was too wasteful.” Both the other professors look at him. “We must be seeing opposite ends of the spectrum,” Professor McGonagall observes.  “In any case, in my classes, they’ve been very well-behaved and quick to pick up anything I give them.  Had them all turning matchsticks into needles on command two minutes after I turned them loose, spent the rest of the class covering what could go wrong.  Managed to get through it all, too.” Flitwick nods.  “Yes, very smart, they are.  They’re also very obedient, and attentive.  I can’t shake the feeling that they want to learn.” “Want to learn?” Snape asks incredulously. “Exactly!” Flitwick declares.  “It sounds a bit ridiculous, but I had two entire classes soak everything up like a sponge, then cross-reference it with what they already knew and expand upon it before I had time to look across the room!” “Something tells me Potions will be interesting today,” Snape sighs. “Possibly,” McGonagall nods.  “I noticed one or two Agents in each house.  You, Filius?” Nod.  “Right about, yes.  One or two. I suppose the rest are willing to learn second-hand.” “And it was the Agents that actually knew what they were doing,” Snape grumbles, glancing up at the clock.  “Whelp, I better go get ready.” The first thing he notices, upon opening the door to let his Potions class file in, is that there seems to be a lot of radios in evidence.  He lets them pick their seats, and takes the role call, making sure to note which students have radios and which do not. Out of fifteen Gryffindors and fifteen Slytherins, three Slytherins have radios. Seven Gryffindors do, including Lyra Heartstrings. So he goes through his normal spiel, up to and including the mention of usually having to teach a bunch of dunderheads.  He appends to it, though. “Heartstrings! Is there any particular reason there’s so many, ah…” “Gryffindor Agents in class?” Lyra asks. His mouth thins to a line, tempted to take points, and he nods kurtly.  No need to make her clam up now. “Simply put, because of Sweetie Belle.  She’s in Gryffindor- and she’s been known to serve toast in a bowl so it wouldn’t spill off the plate.”  A gentle chuckle, while the rest of the class shudders. “We’re going to need as many well-trained ‘teacher’s assistants’ as possible.”  She even used air quotes. The thought of taking points from Lyra leaves his mind completely.  “I… might be interested in witnessing that class,” he states. “No problem,” Lyra answers.  “It’s a double scheduled for one-thirty in the afternoon on Mondays, in classroom D-4.” He has to stop to think for a few seconds, visualizing the map of the school, before he realizes where it is.  D-4 is conveniently surrounded on all sides- including vertically- by closets and storage areas, but it’s also fairly close to his own office…  and he has Monday afternoons off. He nods. “I’ll be there, then.” He quickly banishes the thought of giving them points for preparedness; he hasn’t seen this Sweetie Belle yet, even though she sounds like a disaster in a potions lab. Snape would later have to admit to Minerva and Filius that they were right.  As much as he likes favoring Slytherin, he’d been hard pressed to do that in this class.  Every last student, Slytherin and Gryffindor alike, had behaved- and performed- flawlessly.  By the end of the class, he hasn’t found anything to criticize, and thirty flawless boil-cures are simmering softly in their cauldrons while he discusses the most common mistakes and what they do to the potion.  These students most certainly are not dunderheads, and will almost certainly all be reaching- and acing- their NEWTs when the time comes. Dear Professor Dumbledore, I have learned that one of our Equestrian Gryffindors is a terrible cook, and expected to be a disaster in a potions lab.  I intend to sit in on her first Potions class; by the way she described this student, you might be interested in watching as well.  It will happen at one thirty Monday afternoon, in classroom D-4. Sincerely, Severus Snape Dear Severus, While that certainly sounds like an intriguing event, I am afraid I must sit this one out.  I’m still fighting with the paperwork to get all of these students legally admitted to Hogwarts, unfortunately.  Would it be too much to ask for a description of anything exciting later? Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore Dear Professor Dumbledore, You will be missed, I expect.  I’ll make sure Lyra knows you’re interested; I imagine she will be able to provide a more thorough description than I.  In any case, I must be on my way. Sincerely, Severus Snape