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Dragon Noir	By : agelessdrake Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1949 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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"Mama
Just killed a man
Put a gun against his head
Pulled my trigger
Now he's dead."
~Bohemian Rhapsody, Queen

Chapter Two~

"Good Afternoon class. Welcome to your sixth year of Defense Against the Dark Arts. My name is Iphigenia Luc, and I will be your teacher!"
Iphigenia turned to look at the class. Many were staring at her like she was truly mad, with her merry introduction. She flipped her long black hair over heouldoulder, and looked through the papers she had on her desk.
"Now, I've been told that your last GOOD class was taught by one... Remus Lupin, was it? And during that class you had gotten to Vampires. Well, this seems lan aan appropriate place to restart. Turn to page sixty-five in your books, please."
She wandered down the aisles between the desks, looking over the students shoulders as they skimmed through their books. Her face split in a grin, when she heard a few students start, and turn to face her. Ignoring them, she practically ghosted to the projector she had set up, muttered an incantation to lower the lights in the room, and flicked it out withitteitter that would have convinced even the most unsure of her lacking sanity.
"Now, who would like to tell me the difference between the urban-myth Vampires, and the classic, PROPER vampires?" A girl in the third row raised her hand. Iphigenia moved to see the girl's face, and offered a smile. "Yes?"
"The urban vampires can be 'warded off' by garlic, are afraid of the cross, cannot venture into daylight, and cannot enter a house without permission from it's owner," the girl responded specifically, her tone curt and simple, as though she'd learned all this long ago.uot;uot;Proper vampires can change form."
Iphigenia nodded and smiled slightly, chuckling darkly. "Five points for Gryffindor; you're only half right my dear." The girl looked appalled by this knowledge, and looked down at her book as though it would instantly spit out her answers for her. "Now, who can tell me what Miss Granger said that wasn't entirely right."
A small, plump boy near the projector shakily raised a hand. Iphigenia strode towards him slowly, gesturing him on.
"Yes Mister Longbottom?" she murmured. He flushed about the ears, and looked down for a moment, before mustering the courage to speak; she'd have to address that little problem later.
"Proper vampires are more like ghosts. In some places, they are ghosts, or demons, and they go into people's dreams and... destroy their souls."
"They don't destroy them, per say, Mister Longbottom, but you're correct in that. Five more points for Gryffindor." She changed the slid on the projector; several of the students jumped. Oh, how she loved to surprise the children. "This is a Chinese vampire, or a Xixiejiangshi. They are a type of bloodsucking demon, and - like Miss Granger stated - they can change forms at will.
"Now!" she stated, clapping her hands together and startling quite a few of the students as she ghosted to the front of the room. "Who can tell me the different between a demon and a vampire?" There were several groans around the room. Iphigenia's grin grew far too knowing for their benefits.
~~~
"That certainly was different," Ron mused as he sat down for lunch. Hermione snorted and shook her head slightly. Harry chuckled a little, sliding into his seat; he felt tense, for some reason that he couldn't quite place, and rolled his neck a little, before grabbing food.
"Different, like comparing a snake to a chipmunk," Hermione muttered, grabbing the pitcher of pumpkin juice and pouring herself a cup. Ron sighed, rubbing his eyelids.
"So she's a little young and a little... out there," he admitted. t;Sht;She's not a bad teacher so far." Hermione shot him a glare that would have made even the most bold back down; Ron ignored her, digging into his shepherds pie. "It's not like she brought a vampire into the school or anything."
"With our luck, she is one," the bushy-haired brunette girl muttered sardonically, grabbing a small muffin and eating it swiftly, before standing. "I'm off to the library. I need to do some research for my Arithmacy class."
Ron and Harry watched her walk off, before rolling their eyes.
"She's just upset because it's a girl teacher this time," Ron muttered towards his pie, picking at it. "Probably afraid we'll fall into the same adoration that she did over Lockhart."
"Or she's upset that there really is a woman good at magic that's close to our age," Harry offered, when he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Slowly, he looked up, towards the form striding towards the Gyffindor tableP> IP> Iphigenia Luc strode towards them, making barely a sound as her dark robes rippled around her. She flipped her long black hair over her shoulder and offered a demure smile to both boys, before placing one long fingered hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Walk with me a moment, Potter?" she asked softly. Ron stared at her, gape jawed. Harry coughed, feeling his face heat at her scrutiny, and stood, walking along with her. He cast a glance back at Ron as they lthe the Hall, and found the redhead still gaping at the spot where the young professor had been standing.
They were walking seemingly aimlessly, silent except for the swish of Iphigenia's robes and the stride of their footfalls. When she finally spoke, her inflection no longer held the chipper tones of her classroom.
"I was informed at the beginning of the year that you had a bit of a club going last year. Teaching the other students proper defense skills," she mused shortly. Harry flushed slightly, wondering it he was in trouble. Iphigenia looked back at him, and smiled. "I assure you, this has a purpose Potter. A simple yes or no will suffice."
"Yes," he muttered finally. She nodded, her long hair bobbing slightly with the movement; he noticed, at that point, how wavy it was. Not bushy, like Hermione's but thick and full, cascading around to end in little, wispy curls at her waist.
"What sort of things were you teaching the other students, if you don't mind my asking?" Her tone was still quiet, even, dark almost. It unsettled Harry a little, but he tried not to let it show.
"A few jinxes, disarming spell," he muttered, shuffling along beside the young professor. "Why?"
Iphigenia didn't answer, but Harry suddenly realized where they were headed. The Room of Requirement was at the end of the corridor they were striding down at that moment; he shivered, even though his face was hot. Somehow, this situation didn't sit well with Harry.
"I assure you, Potter, that I mean no harm. You probably don't remember me, I didn't exactly introduce myself, but I was around during some of those Order meetings. You can trust me, Potter." She turned to him then, and the knowing smile returned to her plush lips as she winked at him. "I don't bite."
Somehow, the thought wasn't settling. They strode past the wall near the end of the hall, one, twice, three times, before a dark-toned door appeared. Harry nibbled his lip as Iphigenia opened the door, and waved him in with a small inclination of her head and a sweep of her hand.
It room looked much as it had when Harry had been 'president' of Dumboldore's Army the year before. A few stools and tables were strewn about, numerous books. But this time, there were crystal balls arranged at a few of the tables, though they were red, like a Rememberall.
Iphigenia strode towards one of those tables, and sank to the floor effortlessly. She looked up at Harry expectantly, and patted the floor beside her - there were no chairs around this table.
"I told you, I don't bite."
~~~
"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked Ron after Potions. The tall redhead shrugged, staring at his boots. Hermione sighed dejectedly, and grabbed his arm to stall his movement. "He didn't come to class. Did he leave during lunch?"
"Yeah... Professor Luc came. Said she wanted to talk with him." He shrugged again, and pulled away, muttering under his breath. Hermione rolled her eyes and strode after him.
"Well?"
"Well what?" he demanded, looking over at her. She crossed her arms, half glaring at him.
"Did you see where they went?"
"No," he stated blandly. "I was a bit preoccupied with the intelligence that my best friend was getting talked at by a teacher barely six years older than him."
"That's disGUSTING, Ronald," Hermione bit, scrunching her nose at him. Ron looked a little setback, his eyes widening a little.
"What?" he asked, confused. "She's a good looking woman." Hermione huffed, threw her head indignantly, and strode swiftly away. Ron sighed and shook his head, muttering under his breath again. Hopefully, Harry would be in the common room.
When Ron did enter the common room, he was not, however, surprised to see that Harry was not in attendance among the other students; he'd been avoiding them all since the events of the last year, growing more distant. Ron mounted the stairs to the sixth year boy's dormitory.
Sure enough, Harry sat on his bed, most of the curtains drawn. His feet were bare, his knees pulled up to his chest, his gaze intent on an item between his skinny naked feet. Ron made to approach him, only to be halted by Harry's stern voice.
"Don't," the dark haired boy ordered in a slightly strained tone. "I'm trying to do something."
"What, exactly, if you mind me asking?" Harry sighed, and closed his eyes, before carefully unfolding himself and setting his feet on the floor. He grabbed the object he'd been so intent on, and underhand tossed it to his best friend, who caught it as easily as though he were a Catcher.
The red ball glowed dully in his hands, pulsing as though it had a heartbeat. On the edge of Ron's hearing, he could almost hear whispering voices, but bypassed it as white noise, turning the ball over in his hands. Eventually, he toss it back.
"What is it, mate?" Ron asked, confused. Harry caught the ball easily, gripping it in his hand tightly, until his knuckles were white, staring at it. Than he tossed it up into the air, and caught it like a dime.
"It's a Clairaudience orb," the Seeker replied slowly. "Professor Luc gave it to me, said it might help with my... less than social state-of-mind." Ron moved towards his bed, worrying his lower lip.
"Mate... What IS a Clairaudience orb, exactly? I mean, how's it work?"
"I'm not quite sure yet, actually," Harry admitted slowly. He turned the ball over in his hands. "Professor Luc, she said it would help to hear things. Sounded kinda like a hoax to me, but... sometimes I can. It's like there are people talking to me." Suddenly, he looked up at Ron. "She's part of the Order."
"Huh?"
"Professor Luc. She works for the Order like Snape does. Only she has some code name, so she can't ever really get caught. Apparently, she's like Tonks; she can change what she looks like."
"That's handy."
They fell into silence, staring at the pulsing red ball in Harry's hands. Ron returned to worrying his lip, curling his knees up to his chest. The gently uttering voices were slowly returning, just on the edge of his hear; he looked at Harry out of the corner of his eye, scanning his profile.
"Can you hear it?" he whispered, hoping he wasn't just having some delusion. But Harry nodded, very slowly. "I wonder... if you could hear Sirius like this..."
Harry turned his gaze towards Ron, his green eyes hurt and fiery. Ron held up his hands in innocence, leaning away from the vengeful look.
"He's not dead."
"I know mate," Ron muttered. "But you said, or mentioned, or SOMETHING... when we were down there, when you saw that curtain... You said you could hear voices."
"Luna can too," Harry observed. Ron nodded, taking the ball out of his friend's hands and tossing it up and down a few times.
"So, ya know, maybe it works like that curtain thing. Maybe you can talk to people who are... I don't know; stuck. Or whatever you want to call what they are." Harry snatched the orb back as it whirled in the air a few moments, before it could collide back into Ron's palms again.
"Maybe," he mused, spinning it in his hand. "I'll have to talk with Professor Luc about it more, maybe Professor Trelawny. Hermi' would probably know about stuff like this -."
"Except she hates all that 'mind-reading-into-the-future' stuff," Ron pointed out. Then, he suddenly snorted. "She wasn't too happy to find out I didn't know what was going on when Luc took you off."
Harry chuckled, unconsciously leaning against his friend, staring at the ball. Ron looked down at him, and wrapped a slow arm around his shoulders. Slowly, green eyes focused up into his own copper-brown.
"I miss him," Harry whispered. Ron squeezed his shoulder, offering the smallest of comforting smiles.
"I know, Harry," he murmured back. Harry sighed a little, and nodded, as though that was all he needed to hear. Ron leaned his head against Harry's, and stared down at the Clairaudience ball. The whispers were starting to return again.
~~~
Draco waited until the hail from the other side was clear, concise, before he stepped in. Snape half stood as he slid in, shutting the door behind him; the woman standing before Snape's desk turned to give him a long look.
"Should I come back sir?" Draco muttered, giving the woman an appraising look. She had a face similar to the DADA teacher, round but comely, her skin creamy, soft looking. But this woman's hair was short, striking blond, and her eyes were a sharp emerald green that made Draco's stomach suddenly twist itself into a knot.
"No, Malfoy. Sylvana, we'll talk later -."
"If it's no trouble, Severus," the blond woman uttered in a gentle voice that was silky and seductive. "I'd rather stay, find out what this is about."
"It's none of your concern -."
"It may not be MY concern, Severus." Her sharp eyes took on a hinting glint, darting over to Draco again, and then back to the dark Professor. Snape growled slightly, and rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. The woman past Draco a short, curt nod and a decidedly sinister little smile.
"You... wanted to speak with me, Professor?" Draco muttered, distinctly aware of the woman's eyes on the back of his neck; the flesh there almost itched, the hair standing on end. Snape nodded simply.
"Dumbledore does not feel that you are entirely safe in Slytherin any longer, Malfoy," the dark haired professor stated bluntly. "However, we are not in the capable standards to move you to a new house, and even if we were, it would not be regarded as a wise choice."
"Sir?"
"You've made enemies around here, Malfoy," the woman stated from behind him. Draco turned to survey her. Who WAS this woman to speak to him like she had some long standing association with him.
But. There was something about her that was oddly familiar, besides the uncanny resemblance her face held to the DADA teacher.
"Miss Rhys, would you kindly keep your speculation to yourself?" Snape ordered coldly. The blond held up her hands in deference, inclining her head genially. Snape sighed. "But Sylvana is right. You have made many enemies, Draco. So, since that in and of itself has made it impossible for us to transfer you to a seperate house, Dumbledore thought it... prudent... to give you this."
From a desk drawer, Snape pulled a long silver chain with a silver ring on it. Carved into the soft metal was a Latin inscription, running along the scales of a serpent with small emerald eyes. Slowly, Snape passed it over to Draco.
"It was made with a charm that will alert all the teachers - and anybody in possesion of any of the three other similar rings - if you are accosted in any way that you are unwillingly submitted to."
Draco took the chain from Snape, and slipped it over his neck slowly. Snape nodded simply.
"Now if you'll excuse me, Miss Rhys and I have something we must... discuss." Snape past a signifigent glance over to the blond woman, who smiled genially and nodded. "You may go now."
"Thank you, Professor," Draco murmured. He turned, ready to stride out the door, when the woman caught his arm, turning him towards her. Her sharp green eyes bored into his own crystalline silver, before she smiled once more, and let go of him.
"You can trust him, Draco." She tapped the side of her nose once, her smile growing into a knowing smirk, and pushed him out the door, winking to him. "He's not as different from you as you seem to think."

TBC
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Dragon Noir