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Title: A Question of Heroics (#3314)
Author: LadyAlariel
Chapters: 5

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Archive: Harry Potter
Category: Alternate Universe
Description: Hogwarts has a new DADA teacher for Harry's sixth year; no surprise there. The teacher, however, seems intent on turning the entire school upside down with her thought-provoking questions. Slytherins are being forced to look at their world through distinctly realistic eyes, Gryffindors are having their moralistic ideals questioned, Hufflepuffs are discovering that their loyalty is perhaps too quickly given, and Ravenclaws are finding out that there is more than one correct answer to most questions. When the students of Hogwarts are suddenly faced with reality, their perceptions are shattered and their beliefs challenged. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was forced to grow up long ago, and now he realizes that, in the end, it is not a question of heroics, but of doing the right thing.
Published: 10 Feb 2007
Updated: 07 Mar 2007
Warnings: AU
Type: Drama
Characters: Harry Potter; OFC; Severus Snape


Chapter 1 - Prologue: Introduction to the New Teacher

A Question of Heroics
By LadyAlariel
AU
Prologue: Introduction to the New Teacher

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter fandom is owned by J.K. Rowling. I lay claim only to Brethany Lewis and any mistakes that I make.



Brethany took in a shaky breath, then smoothed her skirt with trembling hands. Really, this couldn’t be any more difficult than standing before the panel of wand makers to prove that she had earned her wand making license. Setting her shoulders with a grim smile, she walked hesitantly into the Great Hall. The chattering halted as soon as the group of teachers caught sight of her.

“Ah, Brethany,” blue eyes twinkled at her from across the table. Albus Dumbledore smiled brightly. “Please come in! I believe we may have left you some supper.” Brethany managed to work up a small smile as she approached the table. Oh, dear…all those eyes, staring at her… “May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher,” Dumbledore indicated her, and eyes widened in shock. “Brethany Lewis, these are your fellow staff members, Minerva McGonagall, Transfiguration professor; Filius Flitwick, Charms professor; Sybil Trelawney, Divination professor; Pomona Sprout…” As the introductions continued, Brethany met the eyes of each person and nodded in acknowledgement. Inside, she threw up her hands in defeat; names were definitely not her strong point. Maybe she could ask that they wear name tags for the first few weeks? A smile fought its way to her face just as the last introduction was made. “…Severus Snape, Potions professor.” Her smile faded; oh, dear…

Severus Snape sneered slightly at the young woman. Merlin, she was young! What had Albus been thinking?! She looked surprisingly collected for being such a young adult, but Snape could also see the slight tremble in her hands.

“Professor Snape,” Brethany acknowledged him quietly, nodding her head in greeting.

“Oh, no need for that, dear,” the school nurse…Pomfrey!...grinned at her. “Just call us by our given names. I am Poppy, and that is Severus, but don’t mind him, he’s always grumpy when he has a potion waiting for him.” The Potions teacher scowled, and Brethany suddenly began to feel more at home. Really, they were just a bunch of overgrown teenagers. Gossipy, incredibly talented and experienced teenagers, but teenagers nonetheless.

“You may call me Professor Snape,” the man told her sharply. “I do not permit children to address me by my given name.” He glared at her critically. “I see the Defense position is still holding its regrettable loathsome luck. Really, Albus, even with the history of that position, was it necessary to contract a naïve little girl for the job?”

Behind Brethany, someone inhaled sharply. She was holding back a laugh as she regarded the dark man before her. “Professor Snape,” the young woman spoke evenly, “Hogwarts has survived many years with a senile old man as headmaster; I am quite certain she will survive with a naïve little girl as the Defense teacher. Perhaps the position needs a change of scenery in order to break its ‘regrettably loathsome luck’.” She held his gaze calmly, her mouth twitching slightly as they both ignored the shocked gasps behind her. Really, she hadn’t had so much fun since she left home!

“Hogwarts may have survived, but that is not to say that she remains untouched,” Snape spoke wryly, his black eyes glinting. “Still, you cannot be much worse than many of our former teachers.”

Brethany raised an eyebrow. “Was that a compliment, Professor Snape?” she asked drolly, smirking slightly.

Snape raised an eyebrow as well. “Take it as you wish, Miss Lewis. Meanwhile, I must attend to a potion.” With a brusque nod to his colleagues, the man swept out of the hall, his robes billowing behind him.

“Oh, my…” Brethany turned around to see Minerva McGonagall smiling at her in bemusement. “You may indeed take that as a compliment, Brethany. Severus rarely says such things, and he always means it.”

“Congratulations, Brethany, on succeeding where many others have faltered,” Albus told her happily. “You have prevailed against Severus Snape using his own weapons against him.”

Brethany grinned. “Oh, he’s just like my brothers. They enjoy making subtle digs at people without their targets ever realizing it. I’m quite familiar with sarcastic taunts and witty debates. I think I like the Potions professor.”

“Well then,” Poppy smiled at her brightly, “You have half the difficulty in teaching here conquered.”

The Defense teacher frowned. “What’s the other half?”

“Now you simply have to establish yourself with the students,” Minerva told her sympathetically, patting her on the shoulder. “Don’t concern yourself overly much; it is quite likely that you will survive the experience.”

Brethany eyed the older woman suspiciously. That had not sounded particularly reassuring.

---------------Finis

Author's Note: This is simply the prolugue, so don't worry about feeling lost. As the story progresses, Brethany will describe herself further, and give her basic background. For now, I just wanted to introduce you to my character and establish her basic personality. I know that it seems as though I'm simply dumping an original character onto your laps, and perhaps I am, but the story and plot become much clearer over the next couple of chapters. Remember, this is just the prolugue!

I am looking for a beta for this story. If you would like to contact me after the next installment, I would welcome good criticism.


Chapter 2 - The First Class

A Question of Heroics
By LadyAlariel
AU
Chapter Two: The First Class

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Fandom is owned by J. K. Rowling. I own only Brethany Lewis and any mistakes that I may have made.



Brethany had never been intoxicated in her life, but that morning, she wished she were. The previous night had gone well…she had gotten no sleep, but at least she had all her materials together. She had an hour until her first class, and she was absolutely, completely and utterly terrified. Admitting to this was easy; fixing it, not nearly so much.

The young teacher slowly made her way into the DADA classroom, wincing slightly at how bare it was. She had cleaned the room herself, emptying it of all portraits, artifacts, posters and photos that had accumulated over the years. The reasons behind the purging of the room would be explained in every class over the next few days. As it was the only thing in the classroom other than desks and chairs was a single bookshelf on the back wall, filled with books and parchments.

Brethany’s first class consisted of the sixth-year Gryffindors and Slytherins. It was a double class, which meant that her first teaching experience would consist of two solid hours of the most volatile class in the entire school. She had been warned, of course, and thus had a very good idea of what to expect if she did not gain control of the class immediately.

Half an hour to go… Brethany resorted to sitting at her desk and organizing the same exact contents that she had organized the evening before. The more she tried not to think about what was about to happen, the further her courage sank. Fifteen minutes…

“You look much as I did on my first day,” a deep male voice echoed through the room, and Brethany’s head whipped up. In the doorway there stood a tall, skinny man with sandy brown hair. He walked toward her, smiling warmly. “I’m Remus Lupin, a former Defense teacher. I came up to speak with Albus about something, and thought that I would give you a few words of encouragement.”

“Lupin?” Brethany smile and shook his hand gratefully. “Minerva told me about you, said you were the only good teacher they had in almost fifteen years. Thank you for stopping in.” She chuckled slightly. “I sound rather like a clerk in a store, don’t I?”

Lupin laughed. “You sound like a new teacher on her first day. Do you think you’re ready?”

Brethany drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Yes. Yes, I do think so.” She flashed him a quick smile. “Actually, do you have a couple hours? You could stay if you like, and then give me a couple pointers afterward.” Lupin studied her face curiously, then laughed at her hopeful expression.

“I do have some free time. I wouldn’t mind at all. Where would you like me?”

Brethany grinned and walked over to the bookshelf. “I found a place back here last week when I moved the shelves. There’s a hollow in the wall, with a seat, and if you move a few of the books there’s an excellent view of the room. I think Albus used it to spy on his teachers at times, but he only hummed and winked when I asked him about it.” Lupin chuckled lightly as he poked his head around the bookcase to look at the indicated space. “Only ten minutes until class, so you’d better get in. There’s a cushioning charm on the seat and walls, so it’s rather comfy, and I cleaned it thoroughly, so it shouldn’t be musty.” Brethany watched anxiously as the man folded his lanky frame into the niche. “Are you all right?” A slightly muffled reply reached her ears, and then several books were moved on a middle shelf.

“It’s quite nice, really. A little snug, but quite nice.” Lupin’s face peered through the hole in the shelves. “I’d best put a Notice-Me-Not on myself, though. Harry is standing behind you, by the way.” Brethany stifled an ‘eep!’ of surprise as she whirled around to see the fore mentioned teenager.

“Mr. Potter!” she barely kept herself from stuttering, then took a deep breath and relaxed. Thank heaven for a sense of humor! “You’ve caught us in the act, then. What price might you demand for your silence?” Harry Potter stared at her quizzically, a confused smile on his face.

“Ah…can I have a little time to think about it?” he asked, unsure of what was going on. “And can I ask what Remus-”

“No time!” Brethany strode to her desk, gesturing for Harry to seat himself. Harry did so slowly, casting one last look at Lupin, who gave him a quick wink and nod.

There was a wild clatter as the students rushed in to get their chosen seats, and for a brief few minutes, there was utter chaos. Brethany was torn between amusement and horror at the behavior of the group as they chattered, argued and yelled across to each other about the events of their summers and the few classes they had attended so far that day.

When at last some semblance of quiet seemed to be achieved, Brethany stood from her desk and approached the seated students. “Good afternoon,” she spoke quietly, and nearly everyone went still and quiet. “Good day,” she repeated, her eyes wandering over the jumble of teenagers. “My name is Professor Brethany Lewis. I’m sure many of you are wondering how someone as young as myself was selected for this post,” several students exchanged glances, “But rest assured that I am indeed quite qualified.” A girl, Gryffindor, raised her hand, and Brethany nodded.

“So how old are you, Professor Lewis?”

Brethany grinned. “I will be twenty-one on Christmas Eve.” This startled them, she saw. Several of the Slytherin students, the blond boy, Malfoy, especially, were beginning to scowl in apparent disapproval. “Perhaps it would help if I give you just a little background information,” she spoke quietly.

“My family is originally from Britain, where my father was an auror, and my mother a Muggle nurse. When I was nine years old, my father moved our family over to the United States, where he took over a management position in the International Auror Department.” She paused for a moment, suddenly relaxed. “My father took care of the magical education of all his nine children, and I was taught for five years by him and his fellow aurors. When I took my O.W.L.s, I had thirteen OWLs,” there was a quiet murmur at this, “And I did so well in NEWTs at age fifteen that I entered into two apprenticeships immediately after my sixteenth birthday.” This caused an even louder murmur.

“I recently received my Masteries in Wandmaking and General Magical Defense, which I think you will agree makes me fully qualified for this position.” Brethany enjoyed the wary look that had entered the Malfoy boy’s eyes. Two Masteries by age twenty was truly an amazing thing. It required being in simultaneous apprenticeships, a great deal of power, very little sleep, and more patience than any one person could possess.

“So…” Brethany grinned at them, “Are you all comfortable?” There was a mutter of assent. Her grin widened. “Well, I am truly sorry to say this, but that is going to change. I would like all the girls on this side, and all the boys on the other.” Protests immediately rose, but the Defense teacher simply raised her wand, and the noise died down.

“Thank you. Now, there are an equal number of Slytherin and Gryffindor girls, so I want one of each at every desk.” Protests rose even louder, and the boys looked on in trepidation, expecting the same mandate for themselves. Brethany gave a brisk wave of her wand, and every mouth was magically sealed shut. “Now,” she spoke quietly, staring each girl in the eyes, “One Slytherin girl will sit with one Gryffindor girl, the same pair for the rest of this term. Once I remove this spell, I expect to hear silence in this room unless I ask for a response. If someone speaks out of turn, and this does include whispering, that person will find him or herself unable to speak for the entire day.” She smiled rather sadistically. “The spell is wordless, so it is likely that only the Headmaster himself would be able to remove it.”

No one moved, and Brethany nodded her approval and removed the spell. “Very good. Now then, if the girls would take their seats, we can continue.” There was a short stillness, then they reluctantly began moving. Once they had seated themselves, glancing doubtfully at each other, Brethany turned to the boys. “Well, now it’s your turn. Draco Malfoy, would you step forward, please?” The blond boy stepped to the front. “And Ronald Weasley, also?” A tall, gangly redhead obeyed slowly, eyeing the other boy reluctantly.

Brethany pulled a desk and two chairs to the center of the room and facing the other students. “Please have a seat here, you two.” She didn’t stop to see their reactions, but turned immediately to the other boys. “The rest of you may sit with whomever you please, but remember that I do not tolerate inattention in my class. Any disruptions will be punished immediately, and let me inform you now that I have a great deal of imagination when it comes to creating punishments.” She paused and looked the students over. “I trust everyone understands?” They nodded hesitantly. “Good. Now, we will begin.” She drew in a small breath. She could do this.

“You may have noticed how bare this room is.” It had been noted, of course. The entire room was undecorated, cold stone. It made for a rather bleak atmosphere. “I would like for this room to signify our approach to Defense Against the Dark Arts. There is no sign of past professors,” here Harry Potter glanced toward the bookcase with a small frown, “No reminders of different things you have been taught at home in regards to the Dark Arts, and no indications of what may be learned in the future.” Frowns began to emerge. “Essentially,” she continued, “I am removing all preconceived ideas about this subject.” Many of them seemed to understand, and a few even appeared to approve. “To demonstrate how each class period will begin, I will be having Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy answer a few questions for us.”

------------------------------------------------Finis
Author's Note: This is the first part of the story, filling in the blanks about Brethany's background, and giving some hints of how the story will progress. The next chapter will be entitled 'The First Question', and will introduce the first major part of the plot.

Some people would see Brethany as a Mary Sue, but that is not my design. Yes, she has accomplished some pretty amazing things at a young age, but it is not something that many people have not accomplished in real life. Though uncommon, there are those people out there who graduated in their mid teens and went on to get their master's degree by the time they turned twenty. Brethany is similar. She is highly intelligent, but she is most definitely human. Growing up in a large family does demand a certain level of maturity of a person at a young age, and also prepares him to take charge as Brethany did in this chapter. Hopefully, things will become clearer as the story progresses.

Thank you for reading this. Please leave reviews; I greatly appreciate constructive criticism.


Chapter 3 - The First Question

A Question of Heroics
By LadyAlariel
AU
Chapter Two: The First Question

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter Fandom


Brethany removed two pieces of parchment from her desk and handed one to each boy. “On the parchment are a list of questions, rather controversial questions that I wish for each of you two to answer, and the rest of you to think about. When I ask the question, Mr. Malfoy, you will answer first by reading the parchment. Mr. Weasley will then read the answer that appears on his own parchment, and we will discuss the answers.” She waited to see if they would react, but neither spoke up.

“The first question: What is a Muggleborn witch or wizard, and what is his or her place in the Wizarding World?” There was immediately a stir of interest, and Brethany barely restrained herself from smirking; she had expected such a reaction. A hand rose into the air from the girls’ side, and she nodded. “Yes, Miss…”

“Hermione Granger. What does that question have to do with the Dark Arts, Professor Lewis?” Brethany grinned; she had expected that, as well.

“Any of you may answer this question in turn: Under what cause does Voldemort make himself known?” She pointed to another girl. “Yes, Miss…”

“Zabini,” the dark-haired Slytherin identified herself, “The Dark Lord fights in order to keep wizarding blood pure and thus the magic of the world balanced.”

“That’s a very comprehensive answer. Could I get an answer from one of the Muggleborn here? Yes, Mister…”

“Dean Thomas,” the dark-skinned teenager replied nervously. “Ah…doesn’t You-Know-Who fight because he’s racist? I mean, isn’t he just like Hitler? He thinks that purebloods are more powerful and better than halfbloods or Muggleborns. That can’t be right because Hermione Granger gets the best grades in the whole school!” There was a mutter of agreement from the Gryffindors, while most of the Slytherins looked as though they’d bitten a lemon.

Brethany chuckled. “There are some definite similarities between Hitler and Voldemort, yes, and while I would agree with you about Miss Granger’s prowess, I do not think that makes her extremely powerful, at least magically.” She paused. “Magical power is not something that shows itself much here in school. Grades, while very important, show almost primarily learning skills only, which have very little to do with the magic itself. But we haven’t uncovered any other information about the question as to what Muggleborns have to do with the Dark Arts. Mr. Potter,” the entire class looked at the teenage boy, “What connection do you see between Muggleborns and the Dark Arts?”

“Well…because Voldemort and the Death Eaters use the excuse of exterminating any witch or wizard not of pure blood, Muggleborns are supposedly at the greatest risk of being killed by some use of the Dark Arts.”

“Anything else, Mr. Potter?” Brethany asked casually, noting the tightening of his jaw.

“I...yes, there is something else.” Harry squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. “Because he grew up in a muggle orphanage where he was abused, Voldemort bears a grudge against muggles that has nothing to do with magical power and everything to do with revenge. Voldemort himself is a half blood, and he tried to get my mother, who was Muggleborn, to join him.” In the ensuing shocked silence, Brethany smiled.

“Precisely, Mr. Potter. Voldemort’s campaign for pureblood supremacy is not only hypocritical, but is also one of the greatest paradoxes known in the Wizarding World. Many would say that you, Mr. Potter, are closer to being a pureblood than Voldemort, because both your parents were magical.” She grinned. “But that’s a discussion for another day. For now, though, I think we all understand how the issue of Muggleborns is related to the Dark Arts.” There were grudging nods from the majority of the class. “Very well, then! Mr. Malfoy, since you’ve had ample time to scan the answer, would you be so kind as to give one view on what a Muggleborn witch or wizard is, and what his or her place is in the Wizarding World?”

In the silence, Draco Malfoy breathed in slowly, his face a mask of indifference, and his eyes cool. He began to slowly read off the parchment in his hand. “A Muggleborn is a witch or wizard who was born of non-magical people, often squibs of the second or third generation.” There was a stir from a few Gryffindors, the Muggleborns of that house and year. “Muggleborns are predominantly of average magical power, with a small percentage reaching the same level of power as the more powerful Purebloods.” Malfoy’s voice faltered slightly, then steadied. “The Laws of Magic, as originally proclaimed by Merlin himself, state that each Muggleborn witch or wizard is to be formally adopted by a pureblood family, thus ensuring that magical blood would be occasionally cleansed and strengthened by fresh blood. This law, though now ignored and largely unknown, has never been officially revoked.” The entire room was in shocked silence. Brethany knew quite well that the law had been buried several hundred years previously; no one had noticed it in almost as long.

“The modern laws of the Wizarding World state that the Muggleborn witch or wizard has as many rights and privileges as Purebloods do. In 1853, Wilhelm Charmichael, who held a powerful position in the Wizengamot, put forth the proposal that Muggleborns be granted higher rights and privileges than Purebloods. He believed that this would not only give a minority group a better possibility of surviving, but also heighten the possibility of purebloods and Muggleborns intermarrying, thus dramatically strengthening the bloodlines. The proposal was denied.” Malfoy let out a long breath as he laid the parchment down on the desk, looking as shell-shocked as his fellow students.

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. Ten points to Slytherin,” Brethany spoke quietly, her face serious. “Now, Mr. Weasley, would you please give your answer?” The redheaded Gryffindor swallowed, his horror apparent on his face. “Go ahead, Mr. Weasley,” the teacher ordered him.

“Muggleborns a-are the genetic anomalies of the Wizarding World. Although some are the product of squibs intermarrying, there are also some that cannot possibly be so, such as Negro Muggleborn.” Several faces screwed up in confusion until Dean Thomas spoke quietly,

“He means black people. Like me and Lee Jordan.”

Ron Weasley looked questioningly at the Defense teacher, who nodded silently for him to continue. “Because of this abnormal origin of a good percentage of Muggleborn, many purebloods consider the entire group to be of ‘dirty blood’. Because it is unknown where or how or even what kind of magic comes from and into Muggleborns, it is considered dangerous to mix blood with them, lest the magic that the Wizarding World was built upon become mutated into some different, more dangerous, or less powerful form of magic.” Several faces had gone pale. Dean Thomas and Hermione Granger looked rather as though they were going to be sick, likely because they had understood everything being said. The muggle science of genetics cast a great deal of light on the straits the Wizarding World was currently in, and it was obvious the two were familiar with the science.

“However, because no formal studies have been made, there is also a small faction among purebloods that believes that those Muggleborn not of squib descent are the only magical anomalies. Negro Muggleborn that may have the lingering traces of the Dark Magic Voodoo from their ancient ancestors, somehow are born with the vastly different magic of the Wizarding World. This, while disturbing to many, is not so important as may be expected, because of the minute chances of Negroid blood mixing with the normal Wizarding blood.” Several people bristled at that and opened their mouths to protest, but Brethany spoke up.

“Before any of you decide to make a scene, please realize that these are facts being stated, not personal views.” She paused as she watched them settle back down. “Also, be reminded that my warning still stands for those who speak out of turn.” Several mouths clamped shut at that, and Brethany nodded in approval. “Mr. Weasley,” she nodded for him to continue.

“Until such a time as it is proven that the magic of any Muggleborn is the same as, or not harmful to the magic of the Wizarding World, Muggleborn witches or wizards will be largely ignored in Wizarding society and politics. While they are legally granted the rights and privileges of citizenship, they lack the knowledge of and power in the Wizarding World that would permit them any social standing there. As such, they are the lowest class and least recognized in the Wizarding World.” As the Weasley boy’s voice faded into silence, the tension in the room rose.

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley,” Brethany spoke briskly, “Take ten points for your house.” She walked back to her desk and picked up her own list of the questions. “I had initially thought that I could introduce another question into discussion today, but I think that this one has provided enough food for thought. Now, does anyone strictly disagree with either of the two answers?” For a long moment, the students simply exchanged glances, then several hands rose. The DADA teacher indicated one. “Miss…”

“Patil. I- doesn’t it seem as though both answers are correct? I mean, both answers are made up of facts…some of them are facts about speculations, but they both make sense, don’t they?” The Indian girl’s voice trailed off into uncertainty, but many faces showed agreement.

“Certainly,” Brethany nodded. “I don’t know if any of you noticed, but both answers left a lot to be desired. The second answer, in particular, made it clear that there was a lack of evidence to definitively support that particular position. Both answers in and of themselves, however, neither contradict nor confirm each other. We are left with simple speculation.” She grinned; none of them seemed to like that.

“As your first homework assignment, then, I want the two people at each desk to choose a question off this list.” The young woman banished a copy of the list to every desk. “Each pair of you will work together at research, one of you from the point of view of a Pureblood elitist and the other from that of a Muggleborn sympathizer. I want each pair to write six inches on the answers, three inches from each point of view. Keep in mind,” she warned them, “That for every offensive word I read, ten points will be deducted from the overall grade, and you will find yourselves in detention very quickly.” She smiled slightly as a few students blanched.

“Very well, then. If you need help for anything, feel free to visit me in my office. Also, fourth through seventh years have the same homework assignment, so you may compare notes so long as you do not copy from each other’s work. This assignment will be due exactly one week from today. You are dismissed early, so don’t disrupt any other class.” There was an instant clambering for the door. “Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Potter, could I speak with you three for a moment?” The three boys halted half way to the door, then moved towards her. “Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, I trust that there will be no great problem with my arrangement?” The two stared at her blankly for a moment, then cast glares at each other. “I see,” Brethany said softly, then sighed.

“The reason I put you two together is because you have a great deal in common,” she noted with humor the exchanged look of horror, “And I thought it would do you good to be forced to work together for once.” The young woman gave them her coldest stare. “The feud between the Weasleys and the Malfoys is well known, but the fact that your fathers hate each other has nothing to do with how the two of you act here at school.” The Weasley boy’s gaze dropped to the floor, but Malfoy just looked at her emotionlessly. Brethany sighed. “I put the two of you together, in front of everyone else, because you are the leaders of your generation here at Hogwarts.” Both boys gazed at her in shock and she smiled grimly.

“You are both purebloods from old, influential families. You are both classmates in the newest group of warriors, politicians and artisans. It will be your year that will be put down in the history books, because it is your year that will be targeted for the coming war, whether as potential enemies or for potential allies, it doesn’t matter. You will be targeted.” They both looked stunned at her blunt relation of facts. “I want your classmates to see you both as the leaders you should be. If that means that have to contact your mothers to tell them that you need to be re-taught etiquette and social behavior, then will gleefully do so, and take great delight in listening to the howlers I know would arrive at breakfast in the Great Hall.” Brethany took perverse pleasure in the undisguised horror on their faces.

“So,” she continued calmly, “The two of you will be working together, and will be sitting in front of the entire class to give your answers, not ones I have written out for you. Mr. Malfoy, if you must have further incentive to work well, then consider how your high rank among the Slytherins will be hurt if you do a sub-standard job.” The Slytherin boy gave a curt nod. “Mr. Weasley, just think how your fellow Gryffindors will treat you if you let a Slytherin best you. Use that Gryffindor pigheadedness, oh, excuse me, I meant bravery,” she corrected herself wryly, “To ensure that the task does not prove too daunting for you. Is that enough for you two to agree to not act like a couple of squabbling little boys rolling around in the mud?” That brought out winces and sullen nods from the both of them. Brethany nodded. “Good. You are dismissed.”

Malfoy instantly went for the door, but Ron Weasley hesitated, looking back at his best friend. “Go on, Ron, I’ll be along in a while,” Harry told him reassuringly. The redhead left immediately, obviously rankling a bit over what Brethany had said.


----------------Finis

Author's Note: OK, so I finally put up the important part! This goes a fair bit into the main idea of the plot, and introduces several sub-plots as well, such as Draco and Ron being forced to work with each other. I saw no need to pair the male students up Gryffindor and Slytherin for the simple fact that having to watch Draco and Ron work together in semi-peace gets the point across extremely well without constant fights breaking out between each pair. The girls, however, because they are less likely to get into physical contests, will probably be forced to work out some manner of peace between them. Actually, if anyone has any suggestions about the pairings there, such as who Hermione is being forced to work with, I would love to hear them. Also, Pansy Parkinson. Pansy may not get a major part in this fic, simply because I don't have a great deal of insight into her character, but I find her interesting.
The entire list of questions mentioned in this chapter will be posted in the next chapter.
Review, please!


Chapter 4 - After Class

A Question of Heroics
By LadyAlariel
AU
Chapter Three: After Class

Disclaimer: I own only Brethany, not any of the Harry Potter characters or related objects

“All right, I think you can come out now,” Brethany laughed as she approached the bookcase. Remus Lupin unfolded himself stiffly from the hiding place and stretched his arms and legs with obvious pleasure.

“I think I’m a little old to be doing that too often,” he spoke wryly as he rolled his shoulders to rid them of kinks.

Brethany chuckled. “No, I think your arms and legs are simply too long for such a small space back there. It’s a rather handy place though, isn’t it? Albus probably has one in every classroom.”

“He’d be more likely to use that invisibility charm of his, actually,” both adults were surprised to hear from the teenager. Harry grinned at their expressions. “He used it on me in my first year. Nearly scared me to death, it did.” They all chuckled.

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me at all,” Brethany spoke wryly, then looked at Lupin. “So, Mr. Lupin, what hints, suggestions, and helpful comments can you give me?”

“Call me Remus, please,” the man smiled at her warmly. “As for advice, well, I think you’ve started out with a very good lesson. May I ask what the next question would have been?”

“‘What is the definition of the Dark Arts?’” she recited the second question. “It should bring about some interesting discussions. Here’s a copy of the entire list of questions, if you’d like it.” Remus thanked her and quietly read down the list with a growing smile.

“‘What are the origins of the Unforgivable curses, and why were they deemed as such?’
‘What magical creatures are deemed “Dark”, and why are they named so?’
‘What makes a wizard “go Dark”, and can such a process be halted?’
‘Can affinities towards either “Light” or “Dark” be changed over time?’
‘What makes a substance or spell “Dark” or “borderline Dark”?’
‘Why are such potions such as the Cupiens Potion illegal, yet not deemed “Dark”?’” Lupin looked up from the parchment with a surprised expression. “This is list is remarkable, Miss Lewis. You are correct; it should bring out some very interesting discussion.”

“Please call me Brethany, Remus.” She turned to Harry. “You may, as well, Mr. Potter, when we are not among other students. You and I will be seeing one another a great deal, after all.” At his questioning glance, her eyebrows rose in surprise. “The headmaster hasn’t told you yet, then? I will be training you in Occlumency.” When both of them stiffened, she looked at them in confusion. “Was there something Albus neglected to tell me?” Remus and Harry exchanged glances, the elder with sadness and the younger with a mix of guilt and anger.

“Professor Snape tried to teach me last year,” Harry told her bitterly. “It didn’t work out, and I ended up getting someone killed because I couldn’t shield my mind.”

Brethany looked at Remus, who was regarding the boy sadly. “Professor Snape, from what I understand, is a natural Occlumens,” she spoke quietly. “It’s not too surprising that he had a difficult time teaching you how to shield you mind. It would be like you trying to teach someone how to stand on one foot. For him it is something you do by instinct, not something you learn by instruction. He probably wasn’t very patient with you every time you failed, was he?”

The teenage boy snorted. “Snape? Patient? He hates me! Not that I blame him, though…” he muttered quietly, and Remus looked at him in surprise. “I looked in his pensieve and saw some things that…well, explained some things.”

“You looked in Professor Snape’s pensieve?” Brethany’s eyebrows rose. “Because of curiosity or because of anger?”

Harry looked down in shame. “A lot of both,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Well, congratulations, Harry, you survived the experience,” his teacher told him dryly. “You were an idiot, but really, all fifteen year old boys are idiots, so don’t feel like you’re alone in it.” Remus snickered quietly, and she grinned at him. “The question now is, will you do the mature thing?”

Harry grimaced. “Apologize, you mean? Do you think it would do any good?”

“Whether it does any good or any harm has very little to do with you,” Brethany spoke bluntly. “In the end, I think it would do a great deal of good, especially since Professor Snape will be the one testing your Occlumency every few weeks. I can’t do it because I’m quite a terrible Legilimens.” Harry groaned loudly and Brethany laughed.

“Merlin help me, then! I’ll do it, even though he’ll probably chew me up and spit me back out.”

Brethany chuckled. “If it will help, Harry, you might put things into perspective.” He looked at her curiously. “Who is scarier, Harry, Snape or Voldemort? Who do you respect more, the Dark Lord, or the man who at least halfway tried to teach you to protect your mind? Besides, you know the saying about glass houses and all? I don’t know if the tales of Snape being a former Death Eater are true, but Dumbledore wouldn’t have kept him in Hogwarts for so long if he did not trust him. I happen to think that Snape is on our side, and if it is true that he was a Death Eater, I cannot think of a man I have more respect for. He has likely had to put up with just as much, if not more than you have, Harry. Can you really blame him for being so crabby?”

“‘Crabby’?” Both British males burst out laughing.

“You know what I mean! Grouchy, nasty, acting like a git! I lived in America for ten years, give me a break!” Brethany folded her arms and scowled. They kept laughing; the young woman sighed. “Tarantallegra!” She smiled in satisfaction as they both began to jig. Remus calmly drew his wand and neatly cancelled the spell on himself, then watched as Harry slowly did the same. “Are the both of you quite finished now?” Brethany asked coolly, an eyebrow raised. The two males grinned at each other, then nodded. “Good. Now out! I have to prepare for the first year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff class! Harry, Professor Snape doesn’t have any classes until after lunch, but he’s likely to be in his office. You’ve time enough before your next class, since I let you out early,” she told him pointedly.

He grimaced and she sighed. “I know that I may seem overbearing and bossy, but it’s a habit you pick up when you have as many younger siblings as I do. I have the tendency to adopt any stray child I find, especially teenage boys. You can argue and complain all you want, Harry, but you have now officially been adopted.” She grinned. “And feel free to rail at me any time. I’ve found that a good scream does a person a lot of good. It’s something I’m used to, actually.”

The teenage boy stared at her. “You are very odd, do you know that, Prof- I mean, Brethany?”

“Of course I know that,” Brethany spoke breezily, “I delight in being odd. It’s so much more fun to shock people than to be boringly normal.” She turned her back on them to head for her office. “What are you two still doing here? Out! Out! I have things to do!” Still laughing, the two exited the classroom. ‘Honestly,’ Brethany thought with a grin, ‘men!’

------------------------------Finis

Author's Note: The list of questions that I promised are now up! You now know how my OFC and Harry will be interacting in the future. I hope that I have not offended anyone with this reworking of canon, but Half-Blood Prince kinda ticked me off, so I tend to change things at this time rather than any other when I'm writing fanfiction. Hopefully, you are all enjoying this at least a little, and will, perhaps, delight me with some reviews(hint,hint).


Chapter 5 - A Question of House

A Question of Heroics
By LadyAlariel
AU
Chapter Five: A Question of House

Disclaimer: J.K.Rowling owns the entire Harry Potter Fandom; I own only Brethany and the basic plot line, neither of which seem to be paying much.


Brethany slumped in her chair, utterly exhausted. Would every day be like that, she wondered with a wince. Merlin, she hoped not!

“I see you managed to survive your first day with the little dunderheads,” Snape’s sneering voice echoed across the room, and the young teacher wearily lifted her head. The Potions Master strode into her classroom, surveying the room with ill-disguised contempt.

“’Survived’?” Brethany echoed dully, pulling herself upright with a quiet groan. “First I had the Gryffindor/Slytherin sixth years, then Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff first years, and finally the Gryffindor/Slytherin seventh years! Why does Albus insist on putting those houses together? Much as I enjoy a good scrap, having to put up with a bunch of teenagers who believe themselves to be each other’s mortal enemies is not something I want to do on a regular basis!” She cast the Slytherin head of house a glare. “So far, I have given three Slytherins and two Gryffindors detention, and collectively taken almost forty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin. I hope your house has been doing well in their classes, or Slytherin’s points will be in the negative.”

Snape scowled. “For their sakes, I hope they have as well. Why, may I ask, do so many of my house have detention on the first day of classes?”

Brethany snarled quietly. “Because your seventh years were not expecting a girl barely two years their elder to have a backbone when faced with three of them at once.” A small grin formed on her face. “I did warn them at the beginning of class that I had been trained for five years by Aurors.” She cast a thoroughly mischievous look at the other teacher. “Mr. Wilkins may have some trouble ‘getting it up’ over the next couple of months, but otherwise all three are physically intact.”

The Potions professor regarded her sharply. “And what did Mr. Wilkins do to deserve your personal wrath?” She smiled at him sweetly.

“I called him and his two cohorts into my office after class. When I assigned them detention, Mr. Wilkins said something particularly degrading about me, and attempted to sexually intimidate me.” Brethany grinned nastily. “I hexed him with Cruciex ecstus, and had his friends help him back to their dormitory.” She smirked in satisfaction. “I’ll have to owl Dad about that; he taught me that hex when I was fourteen.”

“Cruciex ecstus,” Snape repeated in a pained voice. “’Pain in place of pleasure’” he translated the Latin phrase, and Brethany laughed.

“Yes, that’s how Dad sounded when he taught it to me. You needn’t worry about Mr. Wilkins; it will only affect him when he attempts to,” she paused, searching for the correct term.

“Procreate?” Snape finished her sentence, an eyebrow raised. Brethany nodded, a small grin on her face. “Normally I would protest using such a punishment, but I am well aware of Mr. Wilkins’ reputation throughout Hogwarts. You have likely done the female population a great favor.”

The young woman before him sighed and buried her face in her hands. “Are they always like this?” she asked plaintively, peering up at him through her fingers.

“Yes,” Snape replied bluntly, “They are always so. They will not be nearly as much so in the future, simply because they understand that you will punish them, but they do not change. It would take a complete change in their way of thinking to make them otherwise, and I doubt that you can bring that about.”

“I don’t,” Brethany spoke, her eyes sparkling with determination. “I think I can bring about that change, Professor Snape. I know that only a few will accept the change, but that is enough. That is all I want, just one or two students out of each house to work out the truth for themselves. All I have to do is ask the right questions. The answers don’t matter so much in the long run, it’s the questions that count. And Professor Snape,” the young woman looked boldly up at the Potions teacher, “I am very good at asking the right questions.”

The two stared at each other in silence for a long moment, then Snape gave a sharp nod. “That may be so,” he conceded quietly. “I have heard some of my students speaking of your questions. I hope you understand, however,” he continued sharply, “How much negative attention you could receive for this. No one likes change, especially when it deprives them of what they consider their rightful dues.”

Brethany leaned back in her chair lazily. “I know,” she agreed quietly. “And I will be careful of how I say certain things. While I am Gryffindor enough to continue saying what needs to be said regardless of the consequences, I am also Slytherin enough to know how and when to say those things.” She grinned at his sharp look. “My father was a Slytherin, you know, but incredibly blunt. My mother was a Hufflepuff, but she was always able to manage my siblings and I with a great deal of cunning. I think I received a great deal of each of them. It’s almost a shame that I can’t be sorted; I’d rather like to know where I would have ended up.”

“Slytherin or Gryffindor,” came the swift answer, and Brethany looked at the Potions Master in surprise. “As you say, Miss Lewis, you are equal parts of the two houses. You are entirely too sly for Hufflepuff and too realistic for Ravenclaw. A Hufflepuff would never have hexed Mr. Wilkins in such a manner-”

“You’ve obviously never met my mother,” Brethany muttered.

“-And most Ravenclaws would be appalled at how you question what is touted as absolutes in their precious books,” Snape sneered. “You are perhaps fortunate to not know what house you would have belonged to. No one automatically views you as being one thing or another based on a name having been attached to you.” Brethany considered that as the man turned toward the door.

“So, you consider me to be an honorary Slytherin, Professor Snape?” she asked, her grin apparent in her voice. Snape halted in the doorway.

“Merlin forbid that you would have been in my house,” he spoke dryly, then turned to look at her. “Your tongue knows no boundaries or restrictions; you would have put Slytherin points into the negative very quickly.” Brethany had to grin; he was likely correct. “You would have been a credit to either house, though both would likely have been eager to be rid of you.”

She was startled into a laugh. “I’m not certain whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.” Snape stared at her without emotion, and the young woman shrugged. “Thank you, I think.”

“You are welcome,” he said coolly as he turned to exit the room, then paused for a moment. “I am given to understand that you are partially responsible for Potter showing up in my office earlier today.” Brethany froze. Oh, dear…

“Yes, I am,” she replied uncertainly. “I merely gave him the boost that he needed. I’m sure that he would have done it on his own in time.” Snape scoffed in disbelief, and Brethany had to laugh. “All right, he probably wouldn’t have, but I really only gave him a little encouragement. I didn’t force him to go to you in any way, and whatever Mr. Potter said to you was from him alone. I merely provided the opportunity; he was the one who took hold of it.” The room was silent for a long moment as Brethany waited for a response. Finally, Snape simply grunted and swept out into the hall. Brethany sighed, but could not help grinning. Snape would be Snape…


-------------------------------------------Finis

Author's Note: It's a short chapter, I know...So there's a little bit more of Snape and Brethany in there for you, which I greatly enjoy writing. No worries, though, I have no intention of making them into a couple; I can't write Snape romances to save my life. I love Snape as a character, but I have yet to create a character that would be right for him(or could handle him). No romance in the future at all, actually, except perhaps a mention of Ron/Hermione shipper every now and then. I hope you are all enjoying my story so far. If you would like to tell me as much, I would love the feedback(I'm starving for reviews; feeeeeed meee!)
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