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Pepper was a little fed up with the Wizarding World already and she’d only known about it for a month. It was very fun to have an actual wand and to know that magic was real, but the whole ‘Statue of Secrecy’ thing was a bit of a bummer. Plus, she wanted to call bull on her friends not being with her. Her real life friends, she meant. Her Hogwarts friends were alright, but they weren’t home.
She was pondering how stupid it was that Adam, at the very least, wasn’t with her at this stupid castle as she made her way with the rest of the Gryffindor first years to their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Adam was the most magical person she knew besides Anathema, and Pepper had a sneaking feeling that she didn’t even remember the most magical things that Adam had done. And speaking of Anathema, it was so stupid that she was a witch but not really a witch, and definitely not a witch the way Pepper was now a witch. It was all a bit mixed up and confusing, and it had definitely been thought up by adults who weren’t in the real world. Either of them.
“He was in prison, you know!”
Pepper whipped around to face the whispering student. It was a boy from Ravenclaw, the House they were sharing the class with, it seemed. Pepper was a bit concerned about having a murderous teacher, but she was honestly more sick of hearing the same gossip spread around again and again.
“You’re not very clever for a Ravenclaw, are you?” She rolled her eyes at the blank stare he gave her. “Obviously he was in prison. Don’t you read newspapers? Or books?”
“You don’t have to be so rude.” Another boy with a blue tie said.
“Whatever,” Pepper walked into the classroom and found a desk.
She sat in the second row. The first row was too try-hard and the back rows always filled up with the stupidest kids. Second row was where she’d sat for her primary school years and she wasn’t going to change that now. Besides, if the teacher did turn out to be crazy, something that seemed quite possible if the stories of previous Defence teachers she’d heard were true, he would strike the front row first.
Everyone else filed in and took their seats. Pepper was pleased that her friends, Epazote and Jasmine, took the seats on either side of her. Professor Lupin-Black wasn’t there yet, and she could hear the other students gossipping. Still.
“Do you think he’s secretly a werewolf too?”
“Apparently he’s Harry’s actual father, I heard someone say there’s a real resemblance.”
“My sister had a lesson with him yesterday, she said he’s really cool and like, really, really handsome.”
“Well my mother said not to trust a word that comes out of his mouth.”
Pepper bit her tongue so hard that she tasted blood in her mouth.
Mercifully, before she was subjected to any more drivel, Professor Lupin-Black walked in.
Pepper had only been at Hogwarts for three days, and had only known that magical Professors existed for one month, but even she knew that there was something different about this one.
Professor Lupin-Black had long black hair which was slightly wavy and pulled back into a loose ponytail, and he was wearing clothes that Pepper couldn’t identify as Wizard or Muggle, but which she knew must have cost a lot to look so good. Most notably though, Professor Lupin-Black was smiling and he perched on his desk as he addressed them.
“Welcome to Defence Against the Dark Arts,” his voice was deep and his accent was posh, but not in that clipped way that some posh people had. “Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, right?”
The class nodded in silence.
“Right!” Professor Lupin-Black clapped and drew out his wand. A few people in the class flinched and Pepper rolled her eyes. She didn’t miss the teacher’s small smirk. He very pointedly aimed his wand at the blackboard which started to spell out his name. “My name is Professor Sirius Lupin-Black and my favourite thing to do is to spend time with my husband and godson and play Quidditch. I want you all to introduce yourself to me by telling me your name and your favourite thing to do.”
He pointed at a Gryffindor girl in the front row to start.
“Umm,” she cleared her throat. “My name is Delilah Grume and my favourite thing to do is to help with my family’s greenhouses.”
“Lovely stuff Delilah!” Pepper sat up straighter. He was the first teacher to address them by their first names instead of the stupid surname rule. Maybe he wasn’t so bad, even for a criminal. “Next!”
Pepper zoned out a little as the first row all introduced themselves. There were only so many times she could hear someone say their favourite thing to do was read before she screamed.
“Next!”
Pepper zoned back in when Epazote started to speak. “My name is Epazote Brown and my favourite thing to do is prank my teachers.”
Professor Lupin-Black laughed loudly. “Been there, my friend. Next!”
Pepper met his eyes straight on. “My name is Pepper and my favourite thing to do is go on adventures with my friends.”
“Sounds good,” he smiled. “No second name?”
“What, so you can judge whether I’m pureblood, Muggleborn, or somewhere in between? I don’t believe in this blood status segregation nonsense.”
Lupin-Black raised an eyebrow and looked at her assessingly, but not mockingly like some of other professors had when she’d said the same thing.
“You remind me a lot of a young Hermione Granger.” Pepper fought for her blush to stay off her cheeks. Everyone knew Hermione Granger. She was incredible. She was Muggleborn like Pepper, and she was clever and she fought for what was right. And her best friends were boys as well, like hers. Pepper very much felt like a young Hermione Granger. “And I agree - any type of segregation is bad. But, surnames can be a good thing, they show who your family is.”
“Why do you have two then?” Pepper challenged. “Did you keep ‘Black’ just to stay pure ?”
“Merlin, no.” He laughed and it sounded like a bark, “take that up with my husband. I wanted us to take his name, he wanted to take mine, ergo a compromise was made.”
“Mmph.” Pepper supposed it was a good enough reason, though she still wasn’t going to give in. “It’s just Pepper.”
“Okay, Just Pepper, that’s fine by me. Next!”
Pepper sat back in her seat and smiled triumphantly. Defence was her new favourite class. She couldn’t wait to go home for Christmas and tell everyone about Professor Lupin-Black and make them all jealous that they didn’t have a teacher like him.
*
Erin was practically falling off her chair with how fast her knee was jumping up and down. As if History of Magic wasn’t boring enough with old Binns droning on and on and on, it just had to be the second lesson of the day when she had Defence with the hot convict teacher for third period. It was some kind of torture devised to combat her specifically. Maybe Dumbledore, or whoever did the scheduling, was against Catholics. It would make sense.
“I’m getting proper nervous, Erin.” Clare whispered. She was adjusting her green and silver tie compulsively, like she always did when she was nervous. It was currently so short it looked like a bowtie. “What if he actually does hate Muggleborns? I heard someone said he won’t call anyone by their surname unless they’re pureblood like him!”
“Don’t be thick, Clare.” Erin rolled her eyes. “He’s married to a werewolf, for Merlin’s sake.”
“So! He might be a pureblood werewolf for all we know.”
“D’you think he’d let me become a werewolf if I asked?”
“Shut up, Orla.” Clare spat out, her cheeks now flushed completely red. “Why would you want to be a werewolf, for god’s sake.”
“Just fancy being able to howl, that’s all.”
“Sshh,” James flicked his wand and two balled up bits of paper hit Clare and Orla on the back of the head. “I actually want to learn something this year.”
“You are such a Hufflepuff,” Erin scoffed and went back to doodling all over her parchment and staring at the clock.
Finally, blessedly, the bell rang.
Erin was up and out of her seat before the others had even put their books away.
“Hurry up, hurry up!” Clare was fumbling with her things so Erin flicked her wand and sent them into her bag. Sometimes it was like Clare forgot she was a witch. “Michelle said she’d wait outside, but I want to get good seats.”
Erin grabbed Clare’s clammy hand and pulled her out of the door, barely even pausing to wave goodbye to James and Orla. She had to have a good seat in Defence this year. Last year was a write off, what with the maniacal pink twat who’d taught them all year being totally useless, and Erin could not afford to fail another exam. Plus, you know. She wanted to have a good view of Professor Black. Seeing him from across the Great Hall at mealtimes just wasn’t good enough. And, no matter what her Ma said, she knew he was innocent. The only crime he’d committed was looking like such a damn ride.
Erin knew when they’d reached the right classroom without even looking at the number on the door. The queue outside was like Fionnula’s on a Friday - absolutely mental. Of course the bloody Gryffindors had to be mad about it. (Erin wasn’t supposed to hate on Gryffindors, after all Michelle was one of them and so was her Ma, but sometimes they were just so... Gryffindor .)
“Oi, snake motherfuckers,” Michelle’s voice rose above the others as it usually did. Erin saw a hand wave in the air above the shoulders of Tyrone Mimbleweed, the tallest boy in their year. “Over here!”
“Do we have to?” Clare whimpered. “I don’t want to die.”
“Don’t be a wimp, Clare.”
“Alright,” Michelle grinned. She was tucked right up next to the door. One of the girls standing behind her in line was pressing a hand to her cheek. It looked like she was covering up boils - the tell-tale sign of a Michelle jinx. “I am absolutely buzzin’ to see him up close. Just unbelievable girls, it really is. This whole Wizard school shit might actually be worth it.”
“Oh, like the, y’know magic isn’t a big enough draw, Michelle?”
“What’s the point of magic if it doesn’t get me a ride?”
Erin interrupted them before Clare actually fainted from horror. “Is he in there, you reckon?”
“Aye, the seventh year fuckers have had him for two hours and won’t let him out.” Michelle hit her head against the door and kicked it for good measure.
“Michelle!”
“What? They’re keeping me from my man.”
“He is not your man,” Erin shoved her. “He’s married. To another man!”
“Eh, no big deal. Sure there’s enough of him to go round.”
The door creaked open suddenly and a group of seventh years pushed right through their group. For a wild second Erin contemplated dropping to the floor and crawling through the door in order to get through first, but when the crowd cleared she barely had time to think before her classmates were running forward in a great crowd. She got caught up in the wave and deposited into a chair before she could blink. Second row near the window - not bad.
“Fourth years! Excellent - sit down, I don’t care where.”
Erin gaped up at Professor Black. He was way better up close than he was from far away. Erin could actually see the colour of his eyes - a kind of light grey - from here, and oh my god the leather jacket. It actually felt like a sin to look at him.
From the corner of her eye, Erin saw Michelle make the sign of the cross. It seemed the appropriate gesture at a time like this.
“Welcome to Defence Against the Dark Arts! I’m Professor Lupin-Black. You guys were taught by my husband in your first year I believe?”
“Oh yes, he was the best.” Clare said. Typical - if she couldn’t show her fear then she jumped straight to brown-nosing. And she wondered why she was sorted into Slytherin.
Professor Black grinned at her and Erin decided then and there that a little Slytherin brown-nosing was always a good thing.
“Everyone misses Professor Lupin,” Erin said. His grey eyes fixed on hers and it was hard to get the rest of the sentence out, “b-but, I’m sure you’re even better.”
He laughed - actually laughed!
“I doubt that.” He tapped his wand against his desk. “Fourth year is where you’ll begin to learn more advanced spell theory, how to recognise Dark magic, and how to perform some curses and counter curses. This class will contain a lot of practical spell-casting, which I know you’ve not had much practice with thanks to a certain pink laced toad, so we’ll be recapping some basics as well.”
Michelle stuck her hand up in the air and Professor Black stopped mid speech, “yes?”
“Hi,” Michelle flicked her dark hair behind her shoulder. “Is it true you had a duel with old Voldy last year?”
“Er - yes.” Erin’s mouth dropped open. That rumour was actually true? “But it was only a few months ago.”
Erin stuck her hand up, waving it about impatiently. Others in the class had had the same idea - the classroom currently looked like a sea of waving hands.
“Questions later, let’s get started with the lesson.” Professor Black flicked his wand and the blackboard started to write out ‘Origins and Derivations of Dark Spells’ which sounded completely boring when they could be talking about duelling You-Know-Bloody-Who. “If everyone can grab a piece of parchment and a quill, we’ll be going through the main linguistic elements of Dark spells so we can recognise them later on. It’s very important to be able to differentiate between Dark, Neutral, and Light spells in a duel. Not that many spells an enemy shoots at you will be Light.”
Nobody else in the class laughed along with him, and nobody got out their parchment either.
“Right - so, the main difference is that Dark spells are almost all Latin based and they use the indicative active conjugation which -”
Michelle stuck her hand in the air again.
“Yes…?”
“Michelle,” Michelle flicked her hair again. “Just wondering - is it true you have a pet hippogriff?”
“How did you even know that?”
“So it’s true?”
“Yes, her name is Buckbeak, but how did you -”
“Professor Black!”
“Lupin-Black,” he corrected absently, still looking at Michelle with a questioning look. It wasn’t an uncommon look for teachers to send her way, and she looked pretty smug about it.
“Is it true that you’re a werewolf too?”
“No.” Professor Lupin-Black had turned back to the blackboard. The chalk was compulsively underlining ‘indicative active’. “Does anyone have any examples of a spell or curse they think might be Dark that we can use as an example?”
Erin’s hand shot up into the air.
“What about Stupefy ?” She fluttered her eyelashes and totally ignored Michelle muttering under her breath about what a ‘pussy spell’ she’d chosen.
“Yes, great! So if we take Stupefy as an example, then we can see that -”
“Professor!” His shoulders fell in a sigh at the interruption.
“Yes?”
“Is it true you escaped Azkaban by turning into a dog?”
“This lesson isn’t going to go anywhere until I answer all your questions, is it?”
“Nope,” the class chorused together.
“Okay,” He leant on the wall next to the blackboard and stuck his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He looked like a model from the magazines Aunt Sarah always brought back from the salon. “You have this lesson to get all of your questions out of the way, then you’re not allowed to ask me anything unrelated to Defence for the rest of the year. Deal?”
Erin grinned. It seemed like a good deal to her.
“And yes, that is true. I’m an Animagus.”
Erin’s hand shot up into the air along with most of her classmates’, too.
“And yes, I’ll show you.”
He pushed off the wall casually and, in a blink of an eye, a dog was in his place. He was a massive dog. Honestly, about twenty times the size of Toto. The dog barked once and grinned, showing off huge white canines, before he transformed back into their teacher.
“Wow,” Erin breathed out. “Way better than when McGonagall does it.”
*
Hermione always looked forward to her lessons, which was more than could be said for most of her friends. Even going back to primary school, Hermione had been the kid to ask for extra work and to put her hand up every two minutes. In retrospect, she thought, that might have been why she struggled with nothing other than making friends. It was also what was making the behaviour of the sixth year Gryffindors so unusual. Not only had most of the year elected to take N.E.W.T level Defence after possibly the worst year on record for the subject, but they were all seemingly excited to learn. It was bizarre. It was also all down to Sirius’ reputation.
Hermione blushed a little as she remembered her crush on Gilderoy Lockhart in second year. She wondered if she wasn’t already in Sirius’ acquaintance, and had she not had an impractically large crush on Ron, whether she’d be fawning and blushing over Sirius, too. After all, the other teachers they had weren’t exactly eye-candy, or even under fifty, for that matter. Hermione sniggered at the idea of people having a crush on Professor Vector, or Snape.
“What?” Ron knocked his shoulder into hers. “What’s funny?”
“Oh nothing,” Hermione waved it off. Their Potions lesson was coming to a close and her mind was already racing ten minutes ahead. “Let’s make sure we get to Defence early.”
“Want a good seat to ogle him from?” Ron’s voice was icy and the jealousy in it wasn’t hard to pick up on.
“Yes, Ronald. I want a good seat so I can stare dreamily at my best friend’s gay, married , godfather. Honestly,” Hermione huffed and threw her books into her bag forcefully, “you are such an idiot sometimes.”
Why couldn’t Ron see that he had no need to be jealous? It had been almost two years since the drama at the Yule Ball, and yet he still hadn’t taken the hint and asked her out. It was getting ridiculous.
“Why are we fighting?” Harry yawned as she pulled him from his seat. “Woah, Hermione. Slow down.”
“ We are not fighting. Your best friend is being an idiot again.”
“Which one?” Harry joked.
“Ha-ha.” Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron jogged up the stairs behind them.
As predicted, the tension in the air was palpable as the Gryffindor and Slytherin sixth years converged outside the Defence classroom. Not that Hermione would ever admit it, but she enjoyed sharing Defence with the Slytherins - it was almost tradition at this point. They’d suffered together in this classroom, and while the trials and tribulations they’d faced together hadn’t forged unlikely friendships, she liked to think that they’d at least chipped away at the outright animosity.
“Look who it is!” Hermione groaned. She had spoken to soon - that, or Draco Malfoy was actually an Occlumency expert and had read her mind without detection. “Was baby Potter too scared to come to school without his daddy?”
Hermione wheeled around to try and calm Harry down before an actual fight broke out between them on the first day of term. But Harry just smirked and looked the other way. Hermione stared at Ron, but he just shrugged back, obviously not having an explanation for Harry’s behaviour either.
“At least he’s out of Azkaban,” Harry muttered under his breath just as Hermione was starting to relax, “which is more than can be said about yours.”
Ah, there it was. Hell would freeze over before Harry could let one of Draco’s taunts go. Before things could get ugly though, the door to the classroom opened to reveal a very exhausted looking Sirius.
“Oh thank Merlin, it’s you lot.” He walked back into the classroom and sat cross legged on top of his desk. “I don’t think I could deal with another impromptu Q+A today.”
“I wouldn’t speak too soon,” Hermione warned. She took her usual seat in the front row just in front of the teacher’s desk and generously ignored Ron’s muttering.
“Alright, Sirius?” Ron grunted. Sirius nodded distractedly as he watched the class settle.
“Brilliant.” Sirius flicked his wand at the door to close it and took a breath before he started to speak to the whole class. “I think you all know who I am, but for those who don’t, I’m Professor Lupin-Black. Now, I think you guys are old enough to understand how important it will be to learn Defence this year. It’s no secret that Voldemort,” Hermione flinched at the name, just like she did when Harry used it, “is back and fighting to gain power. There are people in this class who will be caught up in that fight. You need to understand that it isn’t just Harry who Voldemort wants. Muggleborns, half-bloods, blood traitors, supporters of werewolf and muggleborn rights, supporters of anyone who isn’t him - the list goes on. I want this class to prepare you for your N.E.W.T exam, but I also want this class to prepare you for the real world.”
There was silence in the classroom. No teacher had ever spoken to them about the War like that before. Even Professor McGonagall spoke of it rarely, and when she did it was in vague terms. Sirius was speaking to them like adults, like fellow fighters. Hermione realised just then how young Sirius really was, and how young he must have been when he first fought for the Light. How young Hermione would be, going into the War.
Sirius cleared his throat and continued to talk. “I want there to be no confusion between us. I fought for the Light in the First Wizarding War from the age of seventeen and I know what war is like. I will fight again in this Second Wizarding War. I fight for my family, to keep Harry safe and to keep my husband from prosecution for something he can’t control, but I also fight for the right of every single person in this country - magic or Muggle - to be able to live in a world without fear. I hope that this class will open your minds as to what is at stake and give you the tools you need to be safe.”
Ron looked over and caught her eye, petty arguments long forgotten. Hermione wanted to reach out and squeeze his hand like she always did when she was feeling stressed like this, but she didn’t dare move a muscle.
“Oh damn,” Sirius said, “Remus told me not to scare you.”
“You’re in for it,” Harry grinned, but even he was looking a little shocked at his godfather’s speech.
“It’s better to be scared and ready for the real world than to live in ignorance,” Seamus said. “Harry taught me that.”
The class murmured their agreement. Hermione spun in her seat to look at everyone’s faces. They all had the same grim determination etched onto their features, apart from one person. Right at the back of the class, Malfoy’s face was hidden. All Hermione could see was the top of his platinum head and one pale hand that held his left forearm in a deathly grip.
“Well, with that out of the way I wanted to start with what you learnt last year. Frankly, I’d be amazed if any of you lot know how to cast Stupefy after having that prejudiced wart teach you last year.” Sirius cut himself off as he processed what he’d just said. He shrugged, “it’s true.”
Harry laughed, “did I show you the textbook she had us using?”
“Yeah,” Sirius grimaced, “my favourite part was the page about werewolves being bloodthirsty murderers the whole time. Really made me rethink stealing my husband’s knitted sweater vest.”
The whole class laughed, no doubt remembering Professor Lupin’s penchant for wearing the softest, and ugliest, knitted clothing imaginable.
“I’m going to need two volunteers to show me where you guys are at skillswise.” Hermione put her hand up in the air so quickly she actually lifted herself out of her chair. “Anyone who was in my godson’s illegal secret fight club doesn’t count, sorry Hermione.”
Hermione really hated not being able to participate in lessons, and watching Romilda and Theo flub even the simplest fifth year spells made it even worse. How did they even pass their O.W.L without a passable Diffindo ?
“Hmm,” Sirius hummed. “I’ll work some fifth year revision into the sixth year syllabus, but I would highly recommend you join the Duelling and Defense Club I’ll be restarting as well.” Sirius grinned, all sparkling white teeth and charm. “See, this is why it pays to break the rules a little.”
Hermione settled back into her chair and smiled, feeling a sense of rightness wash over her. Admittedly, she’d been wary of having Sirius as a professor. He was a lot of things, but a natural teacher he was not - but, maybe that didn’t matter. He obviously cared about not only Harry, but all of them, and after years of disrupted Defence classes, maybe what they needed was someone who was just going to try their best. Someone who had real life experience they could pass on.
Someone who would be on their side, completely.