Things had gotten rather tense after Halloween. The students were now living under the shadow of fear that Sirius Black - mass murderer and dangerously insane escapee from Azkaban - could somehow slip in and out of the castle at will, unseen and unstoppable.
Funnily enough, that fear had been somewhat dampened by the number of people who'd found comfort in Lavender Brown's enthusiastic interpretation of Gabriel's "prophecy." Apparently, many were more inclined to trust the cheerful fortune than face the terrifying alternative.
Still, life went on at Hogwarts. Classes continued as usual - or as usual as they could be with Dementors stationed just beyond the gates and whispers following every shadow.
In Charms, Professor Flitwick had begun the year with the Cheering Charm, perhaps as a subtle attempt to buoy his students' spirits against the suffocating gloom outside. But now, he had shifted focus to the year's true theme: projection-type charms - spells that created magical constructs, not truly physical yet capable of interacting with the real world as though they were. Gabriel's own beloved Bluebell Flames were a classic example, and this term they were learning spells in a similar vein - the Flame-Writing Charm, the Cushioning Charm, and the Seize-and-Pull Charm among them.
Professor McGonagall, meanwhile, was guiding her Transfiguration class deeper into the mysteries of "creating life." They had moved from simple transformations to crafting increasingly complex artificial minds within their transfigured ants - little creatures that could mimic the behavior of real ones yet follow preselected orders. She had even hinted, with the faintest gleam of challenge in her eyes, that true real-time control of transfigured creatures was possible - though, as she was quick to point out, that was well beyond their current level.
In Potions, the year's speciality was both practical and perilous: Antidotes. The syllabus ranged from antidotes to poisons and venoms, to those counteracting curses, charms, and even misfired transfigurations. Among them was the Antidote for Uncommon Poisons, which, unlike its "common" counterpart, was potent against most magical toxins.
Astronomy under Professor Sinistra had taken on a more theoretical tone this year. She was teaching them to chart the stars, map constellations, and understand the subtle influences celestial alignments could exert upon magic.
Herbology, however, had become one of Gabriel's favorite classes at the moment. Beyond the usual lessons on magical flora - their uses, dangers, and peculiarities - this year they were learning how to integrate spells into their care. They practiced growing plants magically without causing them to wilt from the strain of unnatural growth, charming soil to ideal conditions, conjuring artificial sunlight or moonlight, and maintaining greenhouses tailored for specialized species - those that required blistering heat, freezing cold, dense humidity, or even enchanted darkness.
For once in his unlife, Professor Binns had managed to capture a sliver of Gabriel's attention during History of Magic. Though, truth be told, the credit belonged entirely to the topic, not the ghost. Even Binns couldn't make the Witch Hunts dull.
To wizards, that entire period was something between tragedy and comedy. Most victims of those hunts hadn't been witches or wizards at all, but innocent Muggles. On the rare occasions when the hunters did find a genuine magic user, said witch or wizard would usually make fools of them - like Wendelin the Weird, who'd famously allowed herself to be caught forty-seven times just for the fun of pretending to be burned.
The real horror of that era, Gabriel reflected, came not from Muggle ignorance but from betrayal within their own kind - as with the Scourers in the United States, wizard mercenaries and vigilantes who eventually descended into human traffickers. That, Binns had said in his dry monotone, was how the American wizarding community decided that secrecy and security was preferable to cooperation.
In Care of Magical Creatures, Hagrid had taken a step back from his earlier enthusiasm for mortal peril. Unfortunately, his first attempt at "playing it safe" had resulted in a series of mind-numbingly dull lessons about Flobberworms, but a bit of reassurance had convinced him to find a middle ground.
Now, their classes featured slightly more interesting yet relatively harmless beasts: Ice and Fire Salamanders, for instance, and the ever-adorable Crups. The latter were always a highlight - cheerful, loyal little creatures that adored wizard children and turned into affectionate puddles of wagging twin tails and slobbering kisses. Very different from Muggle children, who they would attempt to maul on sight.
There was a reason Gabriel never had one as a pet.
Divination, on the other hand... Gabriel didn't even want to think about it.
Professor Trelawney had become - to put it mildly - strange. She vacillated between fascinated awe and something that bordered on existential dread every time she looked at him. Gabriel had seriously considered dropping the subject altogether, but truth be told, the woman did know her craft. Whatever one thought of her "Inner Eye," she was undeniably skilled at teaching the practical systems of Divination. So he stayed.
He could really, however, do without the gallons of tea.
Study of Ancient Runes didn't have much excitement to offer either. Gabriel, as it turned out, was well ahead of the curve - at least in the part that mattered most to him: the magic itself. Unfortunately, they weren't meant to actually use runes until the final term. The current lessons focused on memorizing the Futhark scripts and practicing precise calligraphy and drawing.
Finally, there was Defence Against the Dark Arts - and it was finally everything Gabriel had hoped for since his first year at Hogwarts.
Professor Lupin was a revelation. He had scolded Gabriel after the incident with the Boggart - because apparently, beating it into submission wasn't the "proper" way to dispel fear - but even he admitted that watching Gabriel batter the creature into retreat had done wonders for the rest of the class's morale.
From then on, the lessons had been brilliant. They alternated between dealing with dark creatures - and Gabriel still had no idea how Lupin had managed to procure a Japanese Kappa -, defensive charms, and the proper identification and neutralization of jinxes, hexes, and curses.
It was, in short, everything he'd wanted from DADA since his first day at Hogwarts.
Unfortunately, Lupin had recently fallen indisposed - and in his absence, Professor Snape had taken over.
And, the man... well-
-~=~-
"He's trying to get Lupin's secret out," Gabriel complained, leaning back in his chair as he sat across from Dumbledore in the Room of Requirement.
Dumbledore hummed, setting down his teacup with a soft clink. "I'll have a word with Severus. He's been rather disappointed that I didn't name him as Defence professor, even after the curse on the position was lifted. But… well, circumstances have forced my hand."
"Please don't," Gabriel said quickly, making the old wizard arch an amused eyebrow. "It's not really a problem in my class. He doesn't care much for Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs, aside from his usual high standards and his charming grading style. But from what Hermione tells me about the Gryffindor–Slytherin group…" Gabriel shook his head. "Let's just say Neville wouldn't have survived if the Boggart lesson had been led by Snape."
Dumbledore gave a soft huff of laughter, a smile tugging at his beard.
"We'll see," he said, eyes twinkling. "For now, I'm curious - how did you discover Professor Lupin's nature as a werewolf?"
"His name is practically Wolf Wolf, sir." Gabriel replied with a perfectly flat look.
Dumbledore laughed, a warm, genial sound. "Oh ho ho, yes, that would be enough for someone like you, wouldn't it? But please - don't mention it to him. Remus is quite sensitive about the matter."
"You're kidding? I'm not about to risk the best DADA professor I've had so far getting expelled just because he's got a… let's say, hyper-violent time of the month."
"Not violent," Dumbledore corrected mildly. "He's been taking Wolfsbane since he began teaching here."
"Huh. Cool." Gabriel grinned faintly. "You know, I actually wanted to be a werewolf when I was little. Found out about Wolfsbane and made a whole presentation to my mum about why she should let me become one. Got my arse red for half a week for that. The worst part? She waited until I'd finished the entire presentation before starting. She let me get my hopes up."
"I truly cannot reconcile your stories of your mother with the individual I once knew," Dumbledore said with a fond smile - though his eyes turned distant for a brief, thoughtful moment. Then he gave a small shake of his head. "Ah, but enough distractions. My time grows short. Why don't you show me your most recent projects?"
Gabriel brightened immediately, standing up and drawing his wand. He pointed it at one of the training mannequins stationed across the room, tracing a circular motion with the tip before calling out:
"Flamma Euria!"
A torrent of dark blue fire burst from his wand, crashing into the mannequin and slamming it against the wall. He held the spell for a few seconds before cutting it off, surveying the scattered remains of what had once been a dummy.
He turned back to Dumbledore with a proud grin.
"So you managed to make them solid, then," Dumbledore said approvingly. "What was the missing piece?"
"Nothing specific, really," Gabriel admitted with a shrug. "I just needed more examples - more experience with projection-type spells. Professor Flitwick's lessons this year helped immensely."
Dumbledore chuckled. "With all you've accomplished, I sometimes forget you're still only a third-year student. Even if your talent lets you learn beyond your level, you still need the foundations of it. I'll have to keep that in mind for our next sessions. Was that everything?"
"Well…" Gabriel's mouth curved into a smirk. "I also finally got this down."
He raised his wand, releasing a steady stream of familiar azure light - Bluebell Flames, bright and dancing.
"Carpe Retractum," he murmured, keeping the fire steady.
Slowly, a tendril of pure light extended from the tip, melding seamlessly with the flames until he held in his hands a whip of living, burning blue fire.
"Finally managed to copy your thing," Gabriel said with a satisfied grin, eyes gleaming with triumph.
"Oh! Very good!" Dumbledore praised warmly. He gave his wand a casual flick, and a flock of flaming birds erupted into being, circling the room in a swirl of orange and gold. "Now - try to guide your spell to catch them."
"Got it," Gabriel said, focusing intensely as he moved his wand, directing the fiery whip through the air.
"Hmm," Dumbledore mused, watching with interest. "I can't help but notice, however, that this isn't quite the same as my Firewhip Charm - or even the mixed variant I devised. Rather than crafting a new magical effect on the fly by merging different natures, you seem to be projecting the Bluebell Flames through the tendrils of the Seize-and-Pull Charm, and projecting the Seize-and-Pull through the Bluebell Flames. That must be rather taxing."
Gabriel grinned, sweat glistening at his temple. "Yeah, well, I've had plenty of practice with it."
"Ah - your classes on the Expecto Patronum, then?" Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. "The staff mentioned them, so I took the liberty of observing one. Using the Bluebell Flames as a medium to create a controlled zone where you can propagate both the Silencing Charm and the Blindness Hex - quite the clever workaround for your current lack of knowledge in proper warding."
"Yeah," Gabriel admitted between breaths. "I've been studying it. It's kind of like enchanting an object - except you're enchanting space instead of a solid thing. Weird stuff."
"But very necessary," Dumbledore noted with amusement, "and quite essential if you ever wish to perform the Space Expansion Charm. Speaking of your lessons - it is most impressive what you've accomplished. Teaching children one of the most complex defensive charms in existence? Most would call that impossible."
Gabriel's whip snared another flaming bird before he replied, "Honestly, I think it's the opposite. Asking a kid - or a teenager - to feel strongly about something isn't hard. Every day's either a tragedy or an epic adventure for us. Did you know Neville's Patronus is a Hippogriff? It's because the day he finally got the courage to step up and fly in Hagrid's class - and everyone cheered for him - that was one of his happiest memories. If he were twenty or thirty, you think that would hit as hard? Maybe in his subconscious, sure, but not like that. Right now, it's vivid. And that's half the work of the spell done already."
Dumbledore let out a soft, thoughtful hum. "That is a perspective I hadn't considered," he admitted, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. "But don't diminish your own accomplishments, my young apprentice. It is still your merit that you created an environment where their potential could grow - and guided them through it. Have you ever considered a career as a professor once you finish your studies?"
Gabriel chuckled, keeping his eyes on the firebirds. "I'm sure Hermione would love that. But I don't think so. Teaching's fun, sure - but I don't think I've got the temperament to do it over and over, year after year, while following a standardized curriculum to make sure everyone learns something. I think I'd rather teach in an apprenticeship style. One-on-one, pushing someone exceptional as far as they can go." He said with a smirk
"How humble," Dumbledore remarked dryly, but smiling. "Well, you're still young. Perhaps that will change with time."
"True enough," Gabriel conceded, smirking as the fiery whip snapped forward, catching three of the birds at once.
"Out of curiosity," Dumbledore began, watching the last of the flaming birds vanish in a curl of smoke, "how long did it take you to produce a corporeal Patronus?"
"I got it the first time I tried the spell," Gabriel said simply, with no trace of deceit.
"Truly?" Dumbledore's brows lifted, genuinely impressed. "Then it must have been quite a potent memory you used."
"Yeah…" Gabriel's gaze drifted for a moment. "The day I was born. I've been dreaming about it every night since - ever, really. It's my happiest memory. Though lately, I've started to associate it with… some sad things, too. Still, the Love I felt back then…" He gave a small, wistful smile. "That was the strongest feeling I've ever known. I could set myself on fire and it wouldn't burn half as bright."
"Ah…" Dumbledore said softly, a glimmer of realization passing through his eyes. "Yes… Love is quite the powerful thing, isn't it?"
"It sure is," Gabriel replied with an easy smile.
Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes twinkling again.
"Speaking of mysteries," he said with a change of tone, "what can you tell me about your little brush with Fate in the Great Hall?"
Gabriel sighed. "Well, it is what it is. You've probably heard the story a dozen times already. I did a tarot reading just out of curiosity - got the inverted Moon for the past, the Tower for the present, and Justice for the future. What do you make of it?"
"Ah, I don't dare interpret glimpses of the future," Dumbledore said lightly. "I'm dreadful at it. An old friend once told me my Inner Eye was not only blind but also asquint."
Gabriel paused mid-motion, lowering his wand. "Wait- what does it matter if it's asquint if it's already blind? And how can you even be asquint with a single eye?"
"All excellent questions, my boy - and ones I've asked myself more than once," Dumbledore said with a grin. "But my question remains. I've heard about what happened, of course - even managed to view a memory of it. I've also heard the interpretations making the rounds through the castle. They all sound reasonable enough. But what do you believe you saw?"
Gabriel was silent for a moment, thinking. Then, quietly:
"…I think this whole thing doesn't make sense."
"Oh?"
"Sirius Black was a Hogwarts student for seven years, right? And he conveniently forgot there's always a Halloween feast?" Gabriel said skeptically.
"Insanity is, unfortunately, a recurring trait among the Black family," Dumbledore said gently. "It's also quite possible he's lost track of time after so long on the run."
Gabriel gave a humorless snort. "He's sane enough to escape the one prison no one's ever escaped from - to stay ahead of hit wizards, Aurors, and every mercenary looking to cash in on him. He slipped past Dementors and got into the castle without anyone noticing - not even you. But the one thing he supposedly failed at was the final step of his plan? That's just too convenient."
Dumbledore tilted his head, intrigued. "He could, of course, have been planning an ambush for Harry - inside the one place the boy would feel safest."
"If he can get in and out without the portraits even noticing," Gabriel countered, "he could ambush Harry anywhere. Doing it in the one place he knows he'd need a password to enter - and where he'd be surrounded by dozens of wizards with no easy escape - that's just stupid."
"A fair point," Dumbledore admitted, his expression thoughtful. "Several fair points, in fact. So tell me - what would you have me do, then?"
Gabriel tilted his head, frowning slightly.
"Honestly? There's nothing different you can do, Professor. You can't exactly announce that you want to talk to Black - the Ministry would have your office surrounded before sunset. And you don't even know where he is. The only real move is to make sure the search continues - and that you get to him before the Dementors do. At least then you can ask him why he's here before one of those soulless wankers snogs the answer out of him."
Dumbledore chuckled softly, eyes crinkling.
"That was already the plan."