Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own my character, random HP paraphernalia, and I own the plot. That's about it.

**Muse responsible:** Rrissa!

Welcome to my first seriously-undertaken, heavily-edited Harry Potter fanfiction that ISN'T a one-shot! I've worked on it for a long time, and I hope you like it. (I have a lot of chapters-it's not quite finished, but I doubt I'll finish it before Half-Blood Prince comes out, sooo....yeah!)

By the way, JK hasn't really enlightened us with much about the Aurors, so I'm taking shameless liberties with their training programs, the way they're set up, etc etc.

My character's name means, roughly, "She who sees like an eagle." AweinaShe who sees, Aquilaeagle (in Latin!). I took a bit of artistic license. Random fact over. (And no, she is not an Animagus, though if she was, she would be an eagle. Like her name. Duh. And guess what her Patronus is? Betcha can't! Or maybe you can. And yes, it is an eagle.)

**Basic summary/history/thing:** Aweina Aquila (Aweina sounds like "Uh-wain-ya") was an Auror in the days of Voldemort on the team of Alastor Moody, who had been assigned as her mentor before Aweina had made full Auror. However, in one unfortunate incident, she was hit in the eyes six times in a row with a Dark curse called a Lashing Curse, which destroyed her eyes and the tissue surrounding them. (The Lashing Curse tears away flesh as if struck by a whip-just onewould have blinded Aweina forever, and she got six. It scars very badly, and it's difficult to block.) When Aweina was down, Alastor Moody stayed with her until mediwizards could come take her to safety, fending off four Death Eaters on his own and not abandoning Aweina to her fate, rendering him a hero. Again.

After a long period of rehabilitation, Aweina was given two magical eyes created by Alastor Moody, similar to his own, save that they were hazel instead of electric blue. (I am choosing to believe his is electric blue for "image." And if you don't agree, nyah.) Aweina suffered terrible scarring around her eyes from those curses, and always wears a scarf tied around them to save others from the sight of the mutilated flesh. Since her eyes can see through just about anything, the scarf does not hinder her sight.

Now, in Harry Potter's sixth year, Aweina has come to Hogwarts to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. I am fully aware that this is most likely noncanon and the sixth book will be entirely different.

Aweina is a member of the Order of the Phoenix, is still an Auror, and is absolutely deadly at chess. Her wand is rowan and phoenix feather, fourteen and a half inches. She is about five foot five inches-yes, she's small-and keeps her brown hair cut very short. She was a Ravenclaw in her school days, a Chaser on the House Team for two years, (not the best, but not bad)and is one of Alastor Moody's few good friends, though she still sees him more as a mentor. At the beginning of this story, she is thirty-seven, which made her twenty at the time she lost her sight, two years before Voldemort fell. (And she was a brand-new Auror then, too.) Woohoo for my math skills.

Aweina is from a pureblood family, though she rarely ever flaunts this fact and doesn't think it makes much difference to who she is. Her Invisibility Cloak was handed down through her family on her mother's side from her great-great-great-times some big number-grandmother, who was a Druid. It's been kept in good repair and is more than big enough to cover Aweina and another person. She has a trunk similar to Moody's, but with four locks instead of seven. (Another family heirloom, given to her when she finished Auror training.)

_Aweina's thoughts_

And without further ado, after that FRIGGIN long AN, onto the story!

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Aweina got up the morning of the day she would go to her new job at Hogwarts and tied her scarf around her eyes, as was her habit. This did not hinder her in the least as she dressed in her new robes for her job, dark blue with an inside pocket for her wand. Forgoing the hat, Aweina rolled her right eye to the next room, where her supply list was pinned to the wall, and focused on it.

"Robes, check," she muttered, as her left eye looked over the things packed in her trunk, "Formal robes, check, teacher books, check, broom, check, Invisibility cloak, check, Dark Detectoring things, check…" Aweina continued muttering to herself as she made sure everything was in her trunk. Satisfied, she closed it and locked it, strapping her owl Persephone's cage to her trunk. Persephone herself was already in the Owlery at Hogwarts. Aweina went over to the fireplace and set a fire. Taking some Floo powder, she tossed it into the magical flames, dragged her trunk into the chimney, and said, "Hogwarts, Headmaster's office!"

Aweina materialized with a bang and levitated her trunk out of the fire, stepping out quickly before the powder wore off. Turning her face towards Dumbledore's desk, she nodded her head at him.

"Welcome, Professor Aquila," said Dumbledore jovially as she moved her trunk to a spot beside the door. "Please sit down."

Aweina sat. "Please call me Aweina," she said, "You've known me for too long to call me otherwise."

"Very well, Aweina," said Dumbledore, leaning back in his chair and stroking Fawkes absently. "You know what your duties as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor will be, I presume?"

"I have a curriculum planned out for each year, sir," replied Aweina, "Though their lessons have certainly been inconsistent. First that Quirrell, then the…author, then Remus Lupin, then that fiasco with Bartemius Crouch Jr, and last year that Ministry woman." Aweina scowled, though how much Dumbledore could see of her expression behind the scarf was questionable. "Dolores Umbridge set back most of the students a year or more. On the whole, the only professor I really approve of is Remus. Though apparently Bartemius was rather…extraordinary."

Dumbledore didn't move or change expression, but an extra twinkle in his eye showed he agreed with her. "You shall also be teaching…special…Defense classes," he said at last, looking intently at Aweina. "I'd like you to take off your scarf so I'm sure you're looking at me," he added.

Both Aweina's eyes swiveled to look at Dumbledore through the fabric. "If it's all the same, I'd rather not," she replied, quietly, "Rest assured that I am looking at you with both eyes."

"But it isn't the same," replied Dumbledore in exactly the level tone Aweina had used. "Even if you can see my eyes, I would prefer to discuss this without hiding anything."

Aweina looked at Dumbledore for another moment. _He wouldn't ask me to do this without a reason,_ she thought,_ If he wants to meet me eye to eye…_

She reached up and undid the knot, unwrapping the blue silk from around her head, letting it fall into her lap, readying herself for the startled stare she always got when she revealed the scars and bulging, swiveling hazel eyes.

Dumbledore didn't even blink as he regarded the mutilated flesh around her eyes for a moment, where the curses had hit hardest save her eyes themselves, where the burns of the Lashing Curse still looked unhealed and livid. His blue eyes returned to her hazel ones, no longer swiveling as she focused on him.

"Now," said Dumbledore, as if nothing were out of the ordinary, "As I said, you will also be teaching 'special' Defense classes. As an Auror, you are doubly qualified."

Aweina leaned back in her own chair, a part of her savoring the openness of having her scars bared without anyone concentrating on them. "Do you mean the organization young Potter started? The one he nicknamed 'Dumbledore's Army?'"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled again as he smiled and nodded. "A foolish name, but I appreciate it."

Aweina looked at Dumbledore for a moment as her lips quirked in a small smile. "I suppose the initials can remain. After all, did you not confess to organizing it last year?"

Dumbledore chuckled for a moment, then returned to the topic. "As a teacher, you will be expected to patrol the halls once every week, or whenever you cannot sleep, in the hope of catching miscreants. If you happen to meet Harry Potter under his Invisibility cloak, let him pass unless he seems to be on a suicidal mission. But it would not hurt to let him know that you can see him."

Aweina nodded. "Shall I be expected to do anything in my Auror capacity?" she asked.

Dumbledore's eyes turned hard for a moment. "Do whatever you must to protect Hogwarts and the students."

Aweina studied his face for a moment, then nodded. _He means go on full Auror alert,_ she translated in her mind, _Keep the Dark wizards from gaining even a thumbnail on us here._

The Headmaster stood. "Now that we understand each other," he said, "You know where the Defense room is. Your office is adjoined to it, and your quarters are adjoined with that room."

"Very well, said Aweina, "I shall go attend to my duties. With your leave, Headmaster."

Dumbledore nodded again as Aweina retied the scarf around her eyes and levitated her trunk. Exiting the office and going down the moving spiral stair, Aweina paused at the bottom for a moment and smiled.

It was good to be back at Hogwarts.

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Ta-da! First chapter! And feedback is always wonderful! Hint, hint. And I do realize this is a little short and a little simplistic. It gets better, I promise!

-Fireblade K'Chona


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot and Aweina. Do not steal either. Or Ishall be forced to beat you with a mallet. Thank you.

This isn't actually very far past the last chapter. Basically, it's Aweina setting up, saying hi to her colleagues, and the Sorting and Dinner.

And I'm naming Professor Vector Aurelies, just because. I don't actually know her name, so she's Aurelies. Because…it's cool.

I'm very sorry if this appears Sueish, by the way. It's not supposed to be, I promise!

(But if it gets sporked or dumped on pottersues, I'd like the link so I'll know what I need to change! )

_Aweina's thoughts_

**Muse responsible:** Rrissa!

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Aweina levitated her trunk down the hall, going down the stairs, over a few passageways, and into the Defense classroom. She paused, looking over the empty desks, the bare walls, the blank chalkboard. Smiling, she set her trunk down in the bedroom adjoining her office. Taking one of the four keys in her pocket, she opened the third lock. Waving her wand at the open trunk, her robes and cloak flew out, her selection of scarves, her books, her other personal things. They settled in the wardrobe, on the cloakstand, on the bedside table, wherever they were supposed to be. Once the compartment was mostly empty, Aweina closed it…

And opened the next compartment. This contained her office supplies, mostly-books filled with suggestions for exercises, a grading guide, quills, ink, and so on. Aweina carried these into her office and plunked them on her desk.

"I'll do the other stuff later…" she muttered, waving her wand distractedly at the books, which sailed onto the shelf. The quills, ink, parchment, and such stayed on her desk. Picking up some of these supplies, Aweina went back into her classroom, dumping them onto her desk there and looking the desk arrangement over.

"Hmm."

Raising her wand, Aweina levitated several desks and moved them to the side, leaving just enough room to walk between the wall and the chairs. Continuing this, Aweina didn't stop directing the desks until they were lining the walls, leaving a large clear space in the center of the classroom.

Placing her wand back in the inside pocket, Aweina set out into the hall to say hello to her colleagues.

Her eyes swiveled behind the scarf, as was her habit. Pausing before a tapestry of a dragon, Aweina said, firmly, "Peeves, don't even think about it or I'll curse you into next Tuesday."

The poltergeist didn't reply, and Aweina ignored him as she continued on to the staff room.

Severus Snape was in the room, his nose in a book as he slouched in a chair in the corner. As soon as he heard Aweina open, then close the door behind her, he sat up straight and looked at her.

"Aweina." He nodded.

"Severus." Aweina inclined her head in his direction, but did not dare say more. As a member of the Order, she knew Severus was a spy, but she respected his accomplishments-and his privacy-and would not break his cover.

Besides, she didn't really like him all that well, for all he was valuable to the Order.

Aweina found a seat and took it, facing the hearth, relaxing back as one of her eyes stared into the fire and the other rolled slowly around, looking the room over, and when it saw nothing but Severus absorbed in his book, refocusing out of the room.

Aweina let her thoughts wander as minutes passed, turning into a half hour, then an hour, the only sound the crackle of the fire and Severus turning a page now and then.

The door opened again. Aweina jerked back to consciousness-had she fallen asleep?-and rolled one eye backward, refocusing on the newcomer.

"Hello, Aweina," said Minerva McGonagall as she entered the room and took a seat.

Aweina raised a hand and waved at her, not moving from her seat.

"You're early," continued Minerva, "The students won't be here for a few hours yet."

"I know," said Aweina indolently, turning in her chair to face Minerva, "But I wanted to set up my classroom first."

"Set things up to your liking?"

"It's mostly organized," said Aweina, not moving her head, but allowing her eyes to spin lazily around.

"I remember your Auror office," said Minerva, wryly, "'Organized' seemed to consist of me not being able to see you behind your papers."

Aweina's eyes whirled again to glare at Minerva-not that this had any effect, since the silk scarf hid her eyes. "It was not."

"It was," said Minerva, smiling amusedly. "I don't see how you managed to maneuver."

Aweina looked pointedly at her. Again, this had absolutely no effect, but Minerva apparently got the message anyway. "It's all on my desk," said Aweina at last, "And the tallest thing is my quill."

_At the moment,_ her mind added, treacherously.

"Well, I'll have to see how long that lasts," said Minerva, settling in a chair.

Aweina gave up. "So, what have I missed here?" she asked, conversationally. "I mean, in the last few years. I know about the Defense teachers and the Triwizard Tournament, but that's about it."

Minerva thought for a moment, then began to talk. She ranged from topic to topic, from Dolores Umbridge to the Triwizard Tournament, rambling on to other things after those were expounded upon. Aweina listened intently, taking mental note after mental note.

Minerva finished, at length, and Aweina nodded. "Thank you. I'd forgotten how eventful Hogwarts was…anything else I should know?"

Minerva said, evenly, "I'm sure Albus brought you up to date."

Aweina, catching the meaning of this, nodded again.

Severus stood, closing his book. "The students will be arriving shortly," he said, nodding to both Minerva and Aweina before he stalked from the room. Aweina blinked behind her scarf. _I must have slept far later than I thought,_ she pondered, _I thought it was _morning_ when I got up. Ah, well._

Standing, Aweina swiveled one of her eyes to the front of her head and walked towards the door. "Where do I sit?" she called back to Minerva.

"Four to the left of Dumbledore," answered Minerva, "Between Aurelies and Flitwick."

"Thank you," said Aweina, and walked into the door.

Slowly, she stepped back and refocused the eye facing forward. Minerva, in spite of herself, was laughing. "I was focused wrong," growled Aweina, wrenching the doorhandle open. "That really hurt."

She stalked down the hall, waiting until she could no longer hear Minerva before reaching up to tentatively inspect her nose, which had been mashed flat against the door.

_Not broken, not bleeding…just hurts,_ she decided, after a brief inspection, and dropped her hand, taking a turn down the stairs.

Her right eye swiveled lazily as Aweina kept her left fixed on the path before her. Taking another turn, her ears picked up the noise of several hundred students chattering, echoing up an empty stairway through an open window. Aweina took a secret passage and cut through the walls and across several hallways, at last emerging in the Great Hall. The students were only just entering, and the foremost ones didn't even notice her. All to the good. Aweina hurried up to the staff table and took her seat between Flitwick and Aurelies, nodding to both of them. Neither of them bothered to stare at her scarf, or the way she took her seat without any fumbling.

The students streamed in, and both Aweina's eyes fixed on a single boy, who took a seat midway down the Gryffindor table. Harry Potter scanned the teacher's table idly, messy black hair half-covering his scar. As his gaze met Aweina's scarf, she inclined her head towards him, and smiled inwardly when he blinked and stared.

The students finished taking their seats, and Minerva led in the first-years, all looking rather terrified.

The Sorting Hat was placed on the stool, and it began to sing. Aweina didn't pay that much attention to the song, instead letting her eyes wander the Great Hall.

One of them landed on a blond-haired boy, sitting between two larger ones, his face seemingly affixed in a permanent sneer. _That one's a Malfoy, if I'm any judge. _Aweina made a note to watch him as the Sorting Hat chose the Houses of the first few students.

Applause followed duly after each student was directed to a House, more excitedly from the House in question. At last, it was finished, and Dumbledore stood.

"Welcome, and welcome back to Hogwarts for another year!" he called into the Hall. Aweina watched him, wondering if he was using a Sonorus charm or whether the tone of voice came with the post of Headmaster. "I would like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Aweina Aquila!"

Aweina stood as applause filled the hall. Her trained ears picked up a few snatches of whispering, and she watched amusedly as several students pointed at her blindfold and murmured to each other.

"Mr. Filch would like me to inform you that all of the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products have been added to the list of things not permitted in the hallways. The list is posted in his office for reference," Dumbledore added as Aweina sat. "Thank you, and dig in!"

The plates filled with food, to gasps from the first-years and grateful sighs from most of the other students. Aweina reached for a noodle dish a few feet to her left and began dishing it onto her plate, her right eye fixed on the task, her left watching some of the students nudge each other and stare at how the "blind" woman didn't grope at all for anything, but placed everything exactly where it was supposed to be.

Aweina finished filling her plate with other dishes, turning her eyes away from the accompanying stares, and began to eat. _This is good…_ she thought to herself, _At least compared to my cooking. I wonder if they can beat Mrs. Weasley's custard, though?…_

Deciding to test this when dessert appeared, Aweina applied herself to her food.

Dessert duly appeared, and Aweina couldn't decide whether or not the house-elves food equaled Mrs. Weasley's custard. She allowed her mind and eyes to wander as Dumbledore gave his short after-dinner speech.

At last, they were dismissed, and Aweina went back to her rooms, too full of good food and far too sleepy to do anything but fall into bed.

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See the little purple-gray button down there? It wants to be pressed!

-Fireblade K'Chona


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** See the name of the site? Fan. Fiction. I am a fan. This is not canon. I own only Aweina, the plot,and random students I may or may not make up. If you take Aweina ormy plot,I will beat you over the head with a mallet until you give it or her back. Thank you.

**Muse responsible:** Rrissa!

_Aweina's thoughts_

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Aweina got out of bed the next morning as sun streamed in the window. Dressing in her regular black robes, she tied a black scarf around her eyes and headed down to breakfast, whistling idly.

There was a schedule for her neatly sitting on her plate. Aweina picked it up and focused both eyes on it. _First class Gryffindor and Slytherin sixth years…_ she read, silently, _Double for them. Right. Then first years till lunch, then third years, then break until dinner. Can do._ Folding the parchment, Aweina stuffed it in one of her several pockets and poured herself some tea.

After breakfast, she went back up to her classroom. Turning to the board, she wrote the words "Professor Aquila" on the board and hastily stuffed the parchment and quills on her desk into drawers. Summoning her homework plan, she set it on her desk and found "Sixth year."

Nothing caught her attention, so Aweina decided to let the sixth years off homework today, unless, of course,something occurred to her mid-lesson.

That done, Aweina sat on her desk and set one eyeball to watching the hall outside her door. It wasn't long before the students arrived, lining up and chatting quietly in the hall.

"Door's open," she called, rather amused.

The sixth years took this as permission to enter, which it was. Slowly, they filed in and took seats around the room. Aweina waited. There were still whispered conversations going on, and more than once she caught, "blind" and "scarf."

_So they think I'm blind? They're going to get a surprise… _she thought to herself as she counted heads. The number of sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins tallied with the number she had counted on her roll list.

At last, one of the students said, "But she's blind!" slightly louder than he had probably intended. The class hushed as every head turned to look at Aweina.

_Let's go for the puzzling but humorous approach,_ Aweina thought to herself. "Yes, I am blind," she said, mildly, "But I can read lips."

There was hasty nodding among the sixth years, but it slowed as they tried to work out what she had actually said. At last, a bushy-haired brunette raised her hand. Aweina pointed at her and said, "You. Miss?…"

"Hermione Granger, Professor Aquila," said the girl, putting her hand down. "Um…what?"

Aweina smiled very slightly and turned her head in Hermione's direction, watching her. "Yes?" she asked, after a long silence. "What, what?"

_She was at Headquarters this summer,_ she thought, _Though apparently, she hasn't ever noticed me. Well…I am rather shorter than everyone else… _Aweina brought her attention back to Hermione.

The girl blinked. "If you're blind, how can you read lips?" she asked, clarifying.

"Ah," said Aweina, "You go right for the personal questions, don't you?" She continued watching Hermione. Ronald Weasley, who she recognized from several Order meetings-not that he had been there, but she had seen him in the halls-and Harry Potter were also looking at her, apparently amused. "You had Alastor Moody as a professor several years ago, did you not?" asked Aweina, at last.

There was a chorus of yeses and nods around the room.

"Remember his eye?"

Another round of yeses and nods.

Aweina shifted her weight. "Two years before You-Know-Who fell, I was a part of a select team of Aurors. We were summoned one night to a place where Death Eaters were launching an attack on Muggles. As soon as I Apparated there with the rest of my team, I was hit in the eyes six times in a row with a Lashing Curse. That's a Dark spell that rips away flesh as if struck with a whip."

Most of the class winced. "So I was down, and fairly soon it became obvious that there were too many Death Eaters for us to handle. The rest of my team was either down or separated from Alastor and I, and Alastor, who was my mentor at the time, covered me while we waited for the mediwizards to get there. Alastor fought off four, maybe more-I couldn't see, obviously-Death Eaters single-handedly in his guardianship of my life for quite some time before mediwizards came and got me away from there."

Aweina paused for a moment. Eyes had widened around the room, and a few were muttering to each other. "Those curses cost me my sight. After intense rehabilitation of the tissue around my eyes, Alastor made me two eyes similar to his own, which I wear now. I thank him every time I see him for my regained sight." Aweina finished her story and waited again for the inevitable question about the scarf.

Sure enough, someone else raised their hand. Aweina pointed. "You. Mr…"

"Neville Longbottom, Professor," said the boy, nervously, "Um…if you don't mind my asking, why do you wear a scarf around your eyes?"

Aweina raised her eyebrows before she realized this had little to no effect. _Ten years and more and I still try to use useless facial expressions,_ she thought ruefully, before answering, "My eyes can see through multiple layers of stone and wood. Do you truly think a single barrier of cloth hinders my sight?"

Before anyone answered, she stood and walked briskly to the center of the room. "We have delayed our lesson too long."

Allowing her eyes to travel over the students, Aweina said, "Who here is considering a career as an Auror?"

Harry raised his hand instantly, as did Ron. Hermione half-raised her hand, and a few other hands rose into the air.

"How many of all of you think you have any idea of what being an Auror actually means?" Aweina asked, next.

Harry kept his hand up, but most of everyone else put them down.

_Time for the fireworks… _thought Aweina, _Let's see…I have that resistance for Stunning after training-if I dodge, I should only get hit once or twice, and anything else I should be able to handle. If I can't…well, I'll recover. Dumbledore said some of them fought off Death Eaters…so I should be careful._

Aweina went to the desk closest to the door and began walking along them. "You, come out to center floor," she said, pointing to a Gryffindor girl. "And you, and you," she added, passing over Harry and choosing Ron and Neville. "You two, too," she said at last, choosing a Slytherin girl and another Slytherin boy. "Names."

"Lavender Brown," said the Gryffindor girl.

"Ron Weasley, and he's Neville Longbottom," said Ron, pointing at Neville.

"Pansy Parkinson," said the Slytherin girl, eyeing Aweina up and down.

"Blaise Zabini," said the boy at last.

"Very well," said Aweina, "I want you to get into a V formation and attack me with your wands."

Aweina was treated to the entire class looking either shocked or blank. "Now," she said in a clipped tone, which sent the students scrambling into a formation. "I am going to try and show you a taste of what being an Auror is like, though it will be rather scaled down. You," she said, waving at the five students she had chosen, "Are Dark Wizards. I am a lone Auror. You advance in formation, then do whatever you wish-split up, clump together, whatever. Now."

Ron was the first one to fire off a curse-"Stupefy!" he shouted, pointing his wand at Aweina.

Alastor's Auror training instantly took over. Aweina dropped and rolled as the Stunning spell shot over her, coming up on her feet as the Slytherins shot two curses at her in unison-a Jelly-legs curse, which she blocked, and another Stunning spell, which clipped her. Aweina staggered for a moment, then recovered. Blaise looked shocked. "Sorry!" he said, stepping out of formation, "I-"

Aweina ducked another curse and shouted, "Be original! You're one sad lot of Dark Wizards, asking an Auror-your enemy-if she's all right!"

Neville shouted "Furnunculus!" which rebounded at Aweina's quickly fired Shield spell.

"Petrificus Totalis!" she called, pointing her wand at Pansy. The girl's body went rigid as she fell.

"Come on!" Aweina yelled again. "I'm limited to the Body-Bind, but you are making this _easy_!"

"Expecto Patronum!" shouted Neville, wildly. His wisp of a Patronus shot over Aweina's head. "What was that supposed to do?" Aweina barked as she blocked another spell and Petrified Ron Weasley.

Her left eye, rolling behind her, gave her a hint of warning slightly too late. A Jelly-Legs hex hit Aweina squarely, dropping her to the ground. Aweina muttered a few choice words too quietly for the students to hear-luckily-and put up another Shield spell as she unhexed herself. It wasn't easy, working magic on yourself, but-well, if you didn't get good at it on the battlefield, you were pretty much doomed.

Standing again, she got Neville Body-Bound before having to roll and dodge another hex from Lavender Brown. "This is more like it," she called approvingly, at last nabbing Blaise. "But you're down to just you now," she finished, standing and advancing on Lavender.

The student aimed a Stunner at Aweina, but not before the Auror Petrified her.

"The exercise is over," she said, going around and freeing the trapped students, who stood and went back to their desks. "Now, replace all those Jelly-leg hexes and Body-binds with Dark and Unforgivable curses, as well as far stronger Defense spells."

The class was silent as they thought this over. "An Auror has to be trained enough to withstand _and win_ a battle like that," said Aweina, quietly. "Notice that with five against me, and hexes and jinxes flying all over the place, I only got hit once and clipped by a Stunner."

The class was still quiet. Aweina cleared her throat and went to the board, picking up a piece of chalk. "But I'm not here to teach you about being an Auror, unless you want private tutoring," she said, giving Harry a brief "glance," or rather the turning of her face towards him momentarily, though her eyes were spinning over the class. "I'm here to teach you how to defend yourself against Dark curses."

Turning to the blackboard, Aweina began her lesson, writing a list of spells down the board, making a list of categories, and calling up students one by one to categorize them. Some had nothing to do with Defense Against the Dark Arts. Some were names of Dark curses. Others were counterjinxes. The lesson went on as they finished categorizing and moved on to practicing Shield Charms and other useful defense spells.

At the end of the class, Aweina decided to give some homework anyway and called out, "Sixteen inches on alternative Shield charms to be turned in on Thursday!"

There were good-natured grumbles and a few true moans as the students left the room. Once they were gone, Aweina dropped into the chair behind her desk and rubbed her temples. _Why did I think teaching would be easy?_

But as the next set of students entered, Aweina shook the thought from her head and stood again, to continue her teaching.

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Reviews are much appreciated.

-Fireblade K'Chona


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I own Aweina and the plot. You steal Aweina, she'll hex you into oblivion, you steal the plot, she'll hex you into oblivion and I will beat you with a mallet. Yup.

**Muse responsible:** Rrissa.

_Thoughts_

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The thing with assigning homework, Aweina found, was that the professor eventually had to correct it. She glared through her scarf at a pile of first-year essays, assigned Wednesday and turned in Thursday. Determining that they weren't going to vanish under her glare, Aweina sighed and dipped her quill in the purple ink she kept for correcting.

Right answer, right, wrong, right…

Aweina, in general, disliked reading. Before she had lost her eyes, she had liked it well enough, but now it was rather difficult for the Auror to read for more than a few minutes before getting a headache.

Sure enough, several times through her correcting Aweina found that one of her eyes was focused on the sheet below the one she was correcting, or that both of her eyes were focused on the one below the one she was correcting, resulting in quiet swearing and much use of the Erasing charm.

After twenty minutes or so of correcting, Aweina put her quill down and pressed her hands against her eye sockets under the scarf. "Ow," she muttered, allowing her eyes to focus on different things and begin to lazily spin, as usual.

_I think I have cramps in my eyes, _thought Aweina, irritably, _I've forgotten how hard it is to keep both focused on one thing for so long._

She stood and left her desk, figuring she would finish grading the three assignments that remained later. Aweina shut the door to her office and wandered down the halls of Hogwarts, rather aimlessly. A few classrooms were occupied, but Aweina happened to be on break until an hour before dinner.

At last, she wandered into the staff room. It was empty, as she had expected, so Aweina sat down with a sigh in one of the chairs.

Allowing her eyes to spin lazily, Aweina glimpsed a fourth-year cutting class and nicking food from the kitchens-she made a note to catch him when he came past the staffroom-Madam Pince shelving books in the library, a Potions class several floors below busily adding powders and liquids to their cauldrons. Aweina watched with one eye for a few minutes interestedly, while the other eye kept a lookout for the errant student.

The fourth-year passed the staffroom, munching on a cookie, and Aweina called into the hall, "Detention and ten points from Hufflepuff, Robinson. Report to Filch on Saturday at four."

Robinson jumped and bolted, and Aweina didn't go after him.

The bells rang for break, and the halls filled with chattering students. Aweina saw Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger heading towards the staffroom.

"Wonder what they want…" she muttered to herself, standing and stretching, slowly.

There was a knock on the doorframe. "Enter," said Aweina, finishing her stretch and wincing at a pop in her left elbow-she had broken it a few years ago in a scuffle with a few Dark wizards, and it still twinged from time to time.

The three Gryffindors came into the room, and Aweina turned to face them. "Yes?" she said, shaking out her left arm. The students looked at each other.

Aweina waited.

"Professor," said Harry, at last, glancing back towards the door, "I talked to Professor Dumbledore earlier this year, and…well…he told me you would be teaching the DA."

"Which would be…what?" said Aweina, keeping her face turned towards Harry, but allowing her eyes to wander.

"The special Defense group we started last year," said Hermione, smoothly. "To practice practical Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"You mean the little group called Dumbledore's Army, then," said Aweina, spinning her eyes to watch their reactions. Ron's eyes widened, Hermione's eyebrows went up and her mouth opened slightly, and Harry blinked several times.

"Uh…yes," said Harry, finally, caught off-balance. Aweina watched their expressions fade and momentarily envied the use of their eyes and eyebrows to convey their emotions.

"I am going to be teaching it," she said, sitting back down and leaning back in her chair, "You were correct. When is the next meeting?"

"Tonight," said Hermione, immediately. "In the Room of Requirement, from seven to eight-thirty."

"I'll be there," said Aweina, "Thank you for letting me know. Though next time, I would appreciate it if you scheduled it with me."

The students took their cue and left the room.

_Almost class-time,_ realized Aweina,_ I should get back for those fifth years._

She went back to her classroom. The uncorrected sheets were still on her desk, and Aweina sighed in exasperation. Picking up the quill, she managed to correct all of them with a minimum of mistakes before her fifth-year class arrived.

This class was Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff fifth years. They sat quietly, waiting for Aweina to finish. The corners of Aweina's mouth twitched as she graded the last assignment. _Less than a week, and I'm already developing a reputation,_ she thought, wryly, before standing and beginning her lesson.

Dinner was meatloaf, one of Aweina's favorites. She noted with amusement that several students still watched her, fascinated at the way she picked things up and set them down without apparently looking at them-though when she turned her face to them and tilted her head quizzically, they tended to return to their own meals rather hastily. Dessert was blueberry cobbler; then came Aweina's first DA meeting.

The Auror tried to arrive early to the class; however, even by entering the room at six forty-five, everyone was already there. "It looks like I'm the one that's late," she quipped as she closed the door behind her. A few laughs met her ears before the room fell silent again.

Harry managed to push his way through the gathering to stand in front of Aweina. "I taught this group last year, Professor," he said, "Stunners, hexes, shield charms, disarming charms, and we had just started the Patronus Charm when we were…interrupted."

"I see," said Aweina. "Have you worked in teams, or have you been concentrating on solitary defense?"

"Uh…solitary defense," said Harry, blinking. "I didn't really think about teams…"

"That's where we'll start, then," replied Aweina, crisply. "We'll get to the Patronus after I see where your initial levels are."

Looking over the group, Aweina stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled, in just the way her cousins had taught her all those summers ago. The piercing tone silenced any remaining chatterers.

"Harry tells me you're up to speed on solitary defense," she said, "And you had just started the Patronus Charm."

Nods, mutters of agreement. "Do we get to keep working on it?" asked Ron.

"Eventually," replied Aweina, and waited for the sighs of disappointment. "We are going to do something I did in Auror training-dividing into teams. I'd like to try this today, if you wouldn't mind."

The group looked to Harry, who nodded. Aweina held back a smile. "Very well then. We shall be in two groups today."

The students began to move, but Aweina shook her head. "I'll choose," she said, knowing that they would gather into groups of friends, which wasn't the point she was trying to make. Aweina pointed to various students and indicated what side of the room they should go to. "Weasley, there, Granger, there, Chang, there, Finch-Fletchley, right? Yes, over there." After a few minutes, the group was completely divided.

Aweina thought for a moment. It wouldn't exactly do to run around the school hexing each other, but…

She had forgotten about the Room of Requirement. Somehow, it expanded and shifted, until it was a maze of bookshelves and tables. Aweina stared in amazement. "Right," she managed, after a few moments. "We need to be able to tell the groups apart-"

"How about these?" said Ginny Weasley, holding up several colored scarves from somewhere. Aweina nodded. "Those will work very well. You-" she pointed to one group-"Will be the Orange team. You will be the Purple team," she added, pointing to the other. "Tie the scarves on your right upper arms."

"What are you, Professor?" asked Harry, politely. "You're wearing a blue scarf." His eyes flickered to look at the band around her eyes. Aweina turned her face towards him.

"Because I will be watching," she retorted, blandly. "Now. Accio!" she said, pointing her wand at the remaining two scarves.

They flew to her, and Aweina caught them. "How many of you have ever played the Muggle game Capture the Flag?" she asked, separating the scarves until she held one in each hand.

A few Muggle-borns raised their hands. Most people looked blank. Aweina set to explaining the game. "My first teacher when I began Auror training-not Alastor-was a Muggle-born," she said, "This was one of our main team exercises. Capture the Flag is a game where each time tries to steal the other team's flag-in this case, scarf." She held up the scarves. "The first team that captures the other flag wins. However, there are rules you need to follow. Firstly, each team has a 'side,' which-oh." Aweina stared at a line that had suddenly drawn itself across the room.

Suppressing a shiver at the uncanny way the room read her thoughts, Aweina said, "The Room has kindly taken care of this. This side-" she pointed-"is the Orange side. The other side is the Purple side. If you cross to the other side, you may be hexed. When you are hexed, you are 'wounded' and must remain at the place where you were hexed-that is, if the hex in question allows you to stay-until another of your team crosses and counter-hexes you. You cannot counter-hex from your side of the line-you must be at least three feet from the 'wounded' wizard in question."

Aweina thought for a moment. "You may not Summon the opposing team's scarf, move it from where it is hidden, or charm it in any way. If you are guarding the flag, it's all very well, but guards may be hexed even on their own side. In fact, I'm going to change a rule. No matter what side you are on, you may be hexed by a member of the opposite team. Questions?"

No questions. Aweina handed the scarves to a member of each team and said, "Hide these on your sides. I will be up there-" she looked around and found a table with a chair on it which had a good view of the entire playing field-"And if any one of you disobeys the rules, I will call a foul and hex the offender. And be warned-" Aweina smiled, "Bookshelves and tables are no barrier to me. Right. Hide your flags, decide on a strategy if you so desire, and we will begin when I whistle."

The students dispersed, and Aweina clambered onto the table and sat down in the chair. After a few minutes, both teams seemed ready.

Aweina whistled, and the game began.

Nothing happened for the first few minutes, which was usual for Capture the Flag. Aweina immediately noted that the Purple team had spread out, hiding behind tables and shelves in the "corridors", obviously intending to hex anyone who came in their way. The Orange team had guards as well, but there was a small group off to the far side of the room which Aweina was watching…

Orange team crossed the line, five people in an arrow. _So someone remembered my class,_ thought Aweina, remembering how she had told the sixth-years to advance in a V.

They got fairly far before a defender jumped out from behind a corner and Petrified two of the team. Two of the remaining three leapt in front of the third and shouted hexes themselves as the last un-hexed the Petrified students. They grinned at each other as the Purple fell, elated with success.

"Stupid," muttered Aweina, "Keep a rear-guard-ah."

Another Purple had crept up behind and, instead of shouting hexes, whispered them, picking off three of the five before the Oranges noticed. They whirled in surprise, but the Purple had the advantage and Stunned both of them.

Several Purples were now on the Orange side, working in pairs rather than in larger groups. The pairs were spread out evenly, searching for the flag.

And that was when someone tried to break one of the rules. An Orange was hiding in a niche between shelves on the Purple side and was trying to un-hex his fallen teammates. Aweina raised her wand and Petrified him. The boy looked rather startled as he fell over.

Meanwhile, the Purples had met duels of their own. The pairs were apparently working, but one pair had run into a group of four and were hexed. One was Stunned, the other had been hit with a Tickling Charm and was rolling on the floor with laughter. But…

The giggling Purple had managed to snatch up her wand and wave it around enough so some sparks shot out of the end. They hovered above her, rising up several feet to form a thin column.

Alerted, some other Purples came to their aid and rescued them.

Aweina spotted a student tucked into a corner, whispering charms and pointing her wand at the scarf around her arm-apparently trying to change the color. Aweina rolled her eyes-and no one could quite roll eyes like her, since they went spinning around her head-and Stunned her.

The game progressed, neither side really gaining an advantage. Aweina had to hex three more students before they got the idea and stopped breaking rules; after that, the game was rather dull.

Neither side had an actual strategy-it mostly seemed to be running into the other territory in groups and getting hexed. Neither team even got near the other flags.

After a while, Aweina whistled again. The groups gathered-unhexing those in their path-near where she sat.

"That," said Aweina turning her face to stare from student to student, "Was terrible. Neither team had a defined strategy-it seemed to be simply little groups rushing into the other team's territory and getting hexed. Neither of you got even near the other team's flag."

"Well, what are we supposed to do?" retorted a Ravenclaw. Aweina turned her face to the speaker and "stared" at her for several seconds. When the one in question shifted uncomfortably, Aweina continued. "We have about an hour left. Go back to your teams, formulate a strategy, and use it for the rest of the game. I will give you five minutes. Go."

The Purples and Oranges divided into huddles, whispering fiercely. Occasionally a head would pop up and look around, before diving back in.

After a few minutes, the Oranges dispersed and scattered. The Purples remained for a few minutes more, and scattered as well. Aweina whistled.

The strategies immediately came into play. Orange pressed an attack, sending about half their group into Purple territory. They overcame by force of numbers, and as they pressed deeper, a few lingerers on the edges darted away and farther into Purple territory-obviously scouting for the flag.

Purple retaliated by sending their numbers behind the Oranges, cutting them off from their own side. Shouted hexes and Stunners flew all over.

Meanwhile, several Purples slipped into Orange territory. They scattered, clearly intending to use stealth rather than numbers as they penetrated deeper. Orange managed to cut off most of them, but two of them got around-

And a Purple laid hands on the Orange flag. Grabbing the flag, the Purple fled, continuously renewing a Shield Charm around herself.

An Orange had the Purple flag as well. Now most of the Purples were in a dilemma-if they went and chased the flag-bearer, they left the main force of Oranges unattended.

But they couldn't lose the flag.

Several Purples detached themselves from the Oranges and ran to block the flag-stealer, as those who had been guarding the flag came to hex the remaining Oranges. Meanwhile, the Purples on the Orange side had gathered around their flag-bearer, and were guarding her by hexing everyone in her path. One misplaced Stunner knocked down the Orange flag-bearer-

And the Purple ran across the line, winning the game to cheers from her teammates.

Instantly, the Room of Requirement reverted to having the bookshelves and tables at the walls of the room with the hexed on the ground, waiting to be returned to normal. Aweina spared a few moments to Ennervate several Stunned students, and soon all of them were back on their feet.

"Now, that was a good game," said Aweina, "Wonderful strategy from both teams." She proceeded with more compliments, then began to point out flaws in each strategy and how to correct them.

The end of their time came, and Aweina dismissed them with, "Now get to your dormitories, or I'll have to put you in detention. And leave the scarves."

The students left, and Aweina closed the door behind herself. She stood in the hall for a moment, staring at nothing in particular. Or, rather, one eye was staring at one of the walls, and the other was looking down a floor or two at Peeves busy rigging something to a nearby suit of armor.

"That was incredible…if the Auror staff heard about this, they'd snap the DA up the moment they set foot out of Hogwarts after graduation…" she muttered, stunned by the level of skill they had shown. "That was incredible."

At last returning to herself, Aweina set off to her own rooms, intending to hang a few pictures before going to bed.

----

Reviews are loved.

-Fireblade K'Chona


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I own Aweina and the plot.

**Muse responsible:** Rrissa!

_Aweina's thoughts _and "-0o0-" will denote the beginning and end of a dream or flashback.

------

The week continued fairly uneventfully. There was no Dark activity, no further DA meetings for this week at least…just ordinary classes.

Aweina stared mournfully at the next set of papers she had to correct-these ones long essays by the seventh-year students. She toyed with the idea of making a student correct them, but…

Blast. They'd favor themselves and their friends, and would likely downgrade their rivals. Aweina groaned and dropped her head into her hands, resigning herself to it.

She had just focused both eyes on the same sheet of paper-the top one-and was beginning to read it when someone knocked on her door. "Enter!" said Aweina, rolling an eye up to see who it was, automatically focusing through the door.

It was Harry Potter. He closed the door behind him and took some time scrutinizing the photographs Aweina had hung on the walls. "What's this?" he asked, pointing to one. Aweina rolled an eye up and kept the other on her correcting. "That's my training-group picture," she said, absently, "End of our first year in team-training. Generally we're in groups of five or six, with a more experienced Auror as mentor. Alastor's on the left-or he was when the picture was taken, seems he's lurking in the back today. He was our main teacher…the one with the purple robe is Wesley Prewett, always had an odd fashion sense, that one did, the one with the hat is Lucy Redanne, then there's Paul Thompson trying to hide behind Lucy, and the one petting the owl is Kali Wensen."

Harry scrutinized the picture for another moment while Aweina corrected a technicality of the description of a spell. "Then this one's you?" he said, pointing. Aweina's left eye rolled up again to see herself, grinning and waving, wearing someone's scarf tied around her waist. "Yes," said Aweina, shortly.

"Before you lost your eyes," persisted Harry.

"Get to the point, Potter," said Aweina, sidestepping the rather sensitive topic.

Harry came to the chair in front of Aweina's desk and sat. Aweina raised her head to look at him, though only one of her eyes was actually focused on him.

"Um," said Harry, "I was wondering…I don't get much news at the Dursley's…"

"That's the family you live with, isn't it?" said Aweina, and received a nod. "I didn't spend very much time at…the Order's headquarters this year," continued Harry, "And I was wondering…if you could tell me what Voldemort has been doing."

The last seven words were said so fast, Aweina could hardly understand him, but she deciphered it after a moment. The Auror leaned back in her seat and said, "I can't."

Harry looked crestfallen, though Aweina doubted he realized it. "Why?" he said.

"Because there are far more experienced-and I use that as a relative term-" said Aweina, aware that she was speaking to a wizard who should have died dozens of times over, "-wizards working on finding where he is, what his plans are, and so on. Professor Dumbledore, for one. Alastor for another. And-I know you know about him-one particular professor at this school. All of them are better equipped to find out what he is doing, linked though you may be."

At Harry's start of surprise, Aweina smiled. "Albus told us about your link at one of the Order meetings a while ago," she said, "However, it does not make you better equipped to do a job we have been trained to do."

Aweina saw the defiance entering the boy's face, and remembered what her reaction would have been, if she had been a teenager. "Don't go out and try to prove you're better," she warned, "That would probably lose us the war."

Harry outwardly bristled. Aweina continued. "I know that most of the times you've faced the Dark Lord, it's been by accident. You're not stupid, Harry Potter. You know that you are an extremely lucky person. But you had best hope that luck never leaves you, or…well, bad things would happen."

Aweina paused. _Damn. I've never been good at speeches, but I've dug the hole…might as well climb into it._

She gave an inward sigh and continued, "I know that many times it has not been your choice to face the Dark Lord-last year being an exception," she said, pointedly. Harry's face went expressionless. "However, I would ask you-not order you, as a teacher would, but ask, as a fellow wizard would-to try and keep yourself out of danger. You may not like it, but…well, you're the only one of you we have."

Harry blinked, but looked Aweina steadfastly in the…well, in the scarf, as it were, but both Aweina's eyes were focused on him. "Now, Mr. Potter," said Aweina, moving her head to "look" at the pile of parchment in front of her, though she was still watching the boy, "Go play a game of chess or do some homework or something. I have to correct these blasted essays, and if you're here much longer, I'll find some reason to postpone it-again."

Harry took the hint, stood, and left her office. Aweina looked back at the rolls of parchment under her hands, swore under her breath, and dipped her quill in the ink to continue.

Half an hour later, she had a royal headache and less than half of the essays had been corrected. "Merlin, that hurt," Aweina muttered, rolling her eyes around, "But I can probably get away with going to bed now."

Raising her wand, Aweina warded both doors to her office-the one in the hall, and the one in the classroom-with spells she cast so often they had become automatic. Retreating to her bedroom, Aweina closed the door and locked it. Taking off the scarf around her eyes, she tossed it onto her bedside table.

Removing her robes and putting on some Muggle pajamas Lucy had given to her a while ago, Aweina lay down, closed the remains of her eyelids, and fell asleep.

_-0o0-_

_An alarm sounded in the Auror practice-grounds, and Aweina looked up from her "duel", startled. Her opponent, Lucy Redanne, disarmed her in her distraction and handed her wand back as Alastor Moody came sprinting into the arena. "Wands, everyone!" he shouted above the general din, "Group seven, to the center in eleven seconds or you'll be left behind!"_

_Aweina and Lucy exchanged looks and sprinted towards their group leader, skidding to a halt as Wesley and Kali almost ran into them. Paul appeared seemingly out of nowhere-as was his particular talent-after a moment, and Moody held a frying pan, of all things, into the center of the group. More Aurors came through the doors or Apparated in, shouting and adding to the confusion-"Nine! Fourteen! Three!" But Moody's group remained at attention and grabbed the edges of the Portkey-to be yanked hard…_

_Into a melee. Death Eaters and Muggles sprinted in all directions, Aurors and mediwizards darting back and forth under Shield charms-Alastor's group snapped into their formation as several Death Eaters saw the new target._

_There was no telling how long the battle was-Aweina fired curses and Shielded herself, disarming, Stunning, hexing-and worse. Wesley went down to a Dark hex-Lucy covered him as mediwizards rushed to them._

_Spells after spells, curses, hexes, charms-any spell that could be thought of was fired in every direction. But Aweina's inner mind babbled in fear-there was no organization, no delineated lines as she had expected, no obvious territory where the Dark wizards were and where the Aurors would be-_

_And the Muggles were in the way, bewildered as the masked fighters shouted spells at the unmasked ones and vice versa, not sure where to go or which way to turn._

_The Dark Mark rose, and if possible, more chaos overtook the battle. The gut reaction of wizards was to fear the Dark Mark-but they had a responsibility to fight _against_ it, and the confusion this generated slowed them for crucial moments-_

_And Paul was down, with Kali covering him. Aweina and Alastor were cut off by a surge of fleeing Muggles, and both pivoted so as to be back-to-back, covering the other's blind spots. _

_Then…_

_A masked figure, looming up directly in front of Aweina-_

"_Oculsecui!" the figure shouted, aiming point-blank at Aweina's eyes, shouting an incantation she had never heard before-_

_And she was down, her face filled with-quite literally-blinding pain. She rolled and tried to come back up, but-_

"_Oculsecui!" shouted the figure again-_

_And again, and again-_

_Pain so intense she could not see, was not aware of anything but the strip of burning agony across her face and the shouts around her-the sounds of rapidly shifting feet as Alastor covered her, growling curses one after another as the Death Eaters closed in-_

_-0o0-_

She was screaming, and someone was shaking her. "Wake up, Professor Aquila!" came a voice, penetrating the nightmare of those many years ago.

Aweina stopped screaming as she came awake and tried to steady her breathing, the air coming through her lungs in short, hard gasps. "Merlin, I haven't dreamed ofthat for years…" she muttered, as her breathing steadied, and an eye rolled towards the one who had awoken her. She blinked, the tattered remains of her eyelids flickering over her eyes and not hindering her sight in the least. "Professor _Snape_?" she said, at last-somewhat incredulously.

Indeed, her fellow Order member was standing beside her bed, a long form of shadow in the darkness. "I was patrolling when I heard screaming," he said, "I thought it was perhaps a student out of bed. When it seemed to be coming from your quarters, I broke the ward on your office door and woke you."

"Thank you," said Aweina, both her eyes looking up at Snape, though her face was turned to her knees.

"Lu-" he began, raising his wand, but Aweina shot out a hand and snatched his wrist, cutting him off. "No light. Please," she said, quietly, but firmly.

"If you are well, I shall take my leave," said Snape, nodding sharply and turning.

"Thank you," said Aweina, taking her wand from her bedside table. Snape left, and closed her office door behind him.

Aweina directed her wand at the outer door through the still-open bedroom door and warded it. Closing the inner door with a charm, she set her wand down and fell back to sleep.

She woke the next morning with only the vague memory of troubled dreams after being awakened by Severusand dressed as usual, in black robes for today, and a purple scarf around her eyes. Tucking her wand into her pocket, Aweina eased the scarf slightly and checked her reflection in the mirror.

_However many disadvantages there are, these eyes make up for it in other ways,_ Aweina thought, turning and rolling an eye behind her. _I can see the back of my head._

Satisfied, she broke the wards on her office doors and set one on her personal quarters before heading down to breakfast.

To her amusement, there were several students along her pathway to the Great Hall, and all of them watched her avidly as she maneuvered the steps with the careless ease of one long used to sprinting up and down them, late for class. Or, as it happened, sprinting around various training grounds as she practiced dueling…

Whatever the case, the students still watched her-unobtrusively, or so they thought, and it would have been to any but Aweina and Alastor. Since those two could see them even if they were behind walls or doors, it was a moot point.

Aweina shook her head slightly to bring herself out of her inner ramblings and took pleasure in nodding to each "hidden" student as she passed. The vague amusement at their startled, somewhat guilty jumps backwards lasted her to the Great Hall.

There was an owl sitting at her place at the teacher's table, and Aweina sat before she took the paper and gave it two Knuts. Unfolding it, she looked at the first line and sighed, the vague amusement slowly dissipating.

"Death Eaters, captured this June and moved to a secure location, have escaped said location and are currently at large," she read quietly to herself, trying to keep at least one eye on the words. "Lucius Malfoy won Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smi-damn," muttered Aweina as her eye slowly focused to thefifth page of the Daily Prophet. "Lucius Malfoy, Augustus Rookwood-"

She stopped reading aloud as Professor Flitwick sat down beside her with a genial nod in her direction. Setting the paper down, Aweina let her eyes whirl crazily for a few moments before settling them to their regular lazy spin. "Flitwick," she said, smiling at the Charms Professor.

"Are you finished with that?" he said, nodding to the Daily Prophet.

"For now," said Aweina, slightly gloomily, "I was correcting essays last night, had a rather uneasy sleep-and reading makes my eyes hurt at the best of times."

She handed the paper to him and turned to her breakfast. "Wonderful," she said to herself, good mood slightly returning, "Bacon."

There were still students in the Hall who watched Aweina move with slightly astonished looks on their faces. _Now, be fair-some never had Alastor-or, rather, the imposter-so they wouldn't know about his eye,_ she argued to herself. _Though it does get rather annoying, how they watch…_

Shaking the thought from her head, Aweina returned to her breakfast and took some pancakes from a dish in front of her.

The day dragged on slowly, from the third-year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors to the first-year Hufflepuffs, basic classes Aweina nonetheless tried to keep her temper with. Her nightmares the night before hadn't helped matters-at odd moments, a flash of the dream would pass through her mind, causing her to pause for a moment before continuing the class. At last, the last class filed out the door, and Aweina collapsed in her chair. She tilted her head from side to side, feeling her vertebrae crackle as she rolled her head.

One of her lazily spinning eyes saw a figure standing outside of the classroom. "Come in, Potter," she called, and the boy started. "Erm…" he said, "The next DA meeting is going to be next Tuesday, same time, all right?" Harry asked.

"Certainly, certainly," said Aweina, waving a hand lazily, "I'll slap something together. Did you have any suggestions?"

"Erm…small-group stuff?" said Harry, slowly. "Like the game last week, but different?"

Aweina turned her face in Harry's direction. "That's a good suggestion, but I'm just trying to get them to work _in_ teams, for now, rather than acting as individuals. I was thinking another few exercises until they get it down, then beginning the small-group training."

"Yes, Professor," said Harry, patiently. "Erm…when is your birthday?"

Both Aweina's eyes swiveled around to stare at him, her eyebrows rising beneath the scarf. "What kind of question is that?" she said, bemused.

Harry shrugged. "When?" he repeated.

"October sixteenth, if you really have to know," said Aweina, nonplussed. "But if you're expecting the year-well, you won't get any help from me."

To her surprise, Harry only nodded and left the room.

"And what was that about?…" she murmured to herself.

Unbidden, her mind turned to memory-not the one of losing her sight, but that of regaining it.

_-0o0-_

_Aweina lay in St. Mungos, in a room somewhere. It was a private room-a rare commodity in these dark times, but someone-Aweina suspected Alastor-had made sure she had the room to herself._

_It was…strange, being unable to see. She was oddly…loose, and felt somewhat distant from her body._

_She had few visitors, but those visitors came regularly-Lucy, Kali, and Alastor. _

_Paul was in one of the main infirmaries. The remaining member of their group, Wesley, was several rooms away from Aweina, she'd been told, but he would be unable to see any other visitors for quite some time._

_Not that, if he visited, she could see him anyway…_

_Aweina choked back a sob that tried to fight its way from her throat. "I'm getting better," she whispered to herself, "I am."_

_Yet, even as she repeated the words, they rang hollowly in her mind, seeming to laugh at her folly._

_There was no recovery from blindness._

_She had heard one of the Healers talking to someone else-Moody, perhaps? Aweina hadn't been exactly lucid, but she had heard the Healer confirm that her eyeballs-and much of the tissue around it-had been blasted away, that her eyes were completely destroyed, and that she would never see again._

_Aweina heard a creaking in the hall, and recognized the slight limp of Alastor Moody-the only visitor who came daily._

_Kali and Lucy had come the day before. Aweina had wished they would leave, but they had insisted on talking and laughing, acting as if nothing was wrong. At last, she had surreptitiously pressed the button on the side of the bed that called a Healer, and one had come to shoo them away._

_But she was glad of Alastor's visits. Her mentor seemed to understand how she felt, and either talked to her or simply remained quiet, depending on her mood._

_The door opened, and the hinge squeaked. Alastor Moody entered the room and closed the door behind him, as usual. He turned-Aweina had memorized the pattern of footsteps-and took the eight steps needed to sit in the chair on the left side of her bed._

"_I've brought you something," he said, in his low growl of a voice. Aweina turned her face towards him, out of habit, and winced as she accidentally tugged the bandage over where her eyes had been._

"_Is it food?" she said, taking a wild guess. She didn't smell anything, though…_

"_No. You haven't been eating, anyway," said Alastor, and this time there was a slight reprimand in his voice. Aweina shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not hungry," she said, at last._

"_You know that I made my magical eye," Alastor continued, changing the topic._

_Aweina nodded, though she really could not see-hah-the point of this._

"_Please sit up," said Alastor. Puzzled, Aweina sat up. She heard her mentor stand and set something on the bed, and wondered what he was doing until-_

_He was untying the bandage around her eyes. Aweina flinched, but she had learned that whatever Moody did, it was for a reason, so she remained still._

_There was the sensation of cool air on her now-exposed eye sockets, before there was a crinkle of paper, the opening of something-a jar?-and suddenly a hand over the left side of her face._

_Aweina gasped in shock as something popped into her eye socket, but did not get a chance to say anything before Alastor's hand covered her right eye socket-_

_And she was staring at the opposite wall. She could see the wooden door and the plaster wall-and, as she blinked the remains of her eyelids in shock, _through_ the door and into the hall-_

_She her head, slowly, to stare at Alastor, bringing both her eyes into focus with an effort._

_He was smiling._

_Aweina shrieked in joy and leapt from her bed, upsetting the jar to fall forgotten on the floor,flinging her arms around her mentor and hugging him as tightly as she could. Alastor awkwardly returned the hug as she babbled thanks at him, letting her eyes spin, taking in everything in the room, until she was dizzy._

_After a few moments, she became aware that her poor mentor probably could not breathe, and was likely rather taken aback by this display of emotion. Embarrassed, she released him and sat down on the side of her bed, sheepishly swinging her legs up and pulling a blanket over her legs, leaning back against the pillows as the Healers had strictly ordered her to do when receiving visitors. Alastor sat down again. "Er…" she began, "Uh."_

"_You don't need to thank me," said Alastor, gently, "Thank me by recovering so you can return to your duty!"_

_At the last sentence, his voice returned to his usual gruff tones, but Aweina could hear the fondness beneath it._

"_You…don't know what this means to me," she said, at last, "You can't possibly know…but…thank you. Thank you for my sight, Alastor."_

_Alastor didn't answer, but when Aweina swiveled an eye towards him, she saw that he was still smiling._

_-0o0-_

Aweina smiled herself, faintly, at the memory of that day. Of course, it was only later she'd started wearing the scarf, when she'd noticed people flinching at the livid, ugly scars around her eyes…but nothing had managed to dim the joy of that day.

In fact, that memory, the incredulous joy that had filled her mind when she had first seen the wall opposite her bed, made her best Patronus…

Swiveling an eye downwards, Aweina absently focused through her chin and found her quill to continue correcting the essays.

-------

That was more of a background chapter than anything else, but I really liked it. Actually, I really like Aweina! She seems like someone I'd respect a lot, and…I dunno, I just like her! Cos she's cool.

Next chapter: Coming soon!

Reviews are loved!

-Fireblade K'Chona


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I own Aweina and the phrase "Dumbledore's Army, Doofus Amigos!" You steal Aweina, she'll hex you into oblivion, you steal the phrase, both of us will curse you into oblivion, though in my case I'll curse you into next Tuesday. I don't own Harry Potter or Happy Bunny.

**Muse responsible:** Rrissa!

_Aweina's thoughts _and "-0o0-" will denote the beginning and end of a dream or flashback.

-

The second and third DA meetings had passed-both in one week, strangely enough, and it was the third Thursday in the school year. For once, Aweina had beaten the students to the Room of Requirement and actually had a few moments to herself before class started.

The past two meetings had been more team-building games, and they had worked beautifully-and very quickly. Again, Aweina had been astonished at the level they had shown-

But then, the students were younger and more flexible than the adults in Auror training, who tended to be _extremely_ stubborn. Aweina's own training group had been a prime example-even after the first few weeks of team-training, which was incredibly intensive, it had still taken Alastor weeks to beat his five trainees into shape.

Aweina turned away from her musings and looked down at the box beside her. Several students had asked about using the Patronus charm, and Aweina had given in-they were to practice it today. And since she had remembered that Harry's worst fear was a dementor…

Well, she had a boggart in the box beside her, locked in securely. Aweina certainly didn't want the thing to get out of control, and she was passing the time by remembering and re-remembering the day she had regained her sight, in case things got out of hand.

The students drifted in at last, several at a time, and seemed rather surprised to see Aweina standing calmly where she was. "At last, I'm earlier than you," she quipped, to a few smiles.

It didn't take long for the rest of the group to gather, and Aweina waited patiently for a few moments. Silence fell after a short bit of chatter.

"We will be practicing Patronus charms today," she announced, and paused for the applause. "Does everyone remember how?"

Nods.

"Good. Today will be _practical._ Go practice them on your own a few times, and return when you're warmed up. Potter, I need to speak with you."

Harry came forward as the rest of the DA scattered to practice. "Yes, Professor?" he said, patiently.

"I've brought a boggart," said Aweina, getting directly to the point. "And I need to know…will it still turn into a dementor?"

Harry thought for a moment, then nodded. "Good," said Aweina, briskly, "If things get out of hand, I'll expect you to help me subdue it. But only use the Patronus if it's still a dementor."

Harry nodded again. Aweina rolled her eyes around and saw that several students had conjured corporeal Patronuses. "All right, that's enough, come back," she said at last, and the spellcasting ceased.

"I've brought a boggart," she said to the DA, "It will turn into a dementor. If things get out of hand-all of you know the Riddikulus charm, don't you?"

"Yes," chorused the class. "Good," said Aweina, "Then if it turns into something else, kindly fire Riddikulus charms at it until I can get it back into the box. Everyone, back-no, Potter, stay right there-"

Taking several steps away, so Harry was closest to the box, Aweina flicked her wand at the box. The lid flew open, and-

A dementor rose from the box, turning its hood this way and that. The room darkened, and Aweina felt the cold pull of the dementor's despair. She did her best to overrule it, holding fiercely to the moment of regaining her sight. "Potter, back!" shouted Aweina, "Granger, forward, then Weasley, then Chang-go!"

Hermione, her face ashen, shot a Patronus. Her silvery otter appeared, but it was weak and pale…

Then Ron Weasley, and Ginny at the same time, since Aweina had forgotten to specify which of the siblings should go first. Cho Chang followed, her face pale and her swan misty, and Aweina shouted out names as the boggart halted, confused-

Neville Longbottom was next, and he quailed in front of the dementor. Seeing its chance, the boggart swooped forward, began to shape-shift-

"Expecto Patronum!" Aweina roared, whirling her wand at the dementor and concentrating on the delirious joy of the moment she had regained her sight. A brilliant silver eagle shot from her wand, between Neville and the dementor, battling it back-

And a bright silver stag was fighting alongside it.

"Riddikulus!" said Aweina as the dementor faltered.

With a whip-crack, the dementor's robes turned bright red, with sequins on it. There was a chorus of laughter from the students, and the boggart went still farther backward…

And into range of Aweina, at last too far from Harry to sense his fear. With another whip-crack-Aweina was impressed for a split second, since the students had been battling it so much-it transformed.

Alastor Moody's mangled body lay on the ground, wand snapped just out of reach of his right hand, eyes glazed in death. The laughter stopped abruptly. Aweina's lips tightened, and she shot another Riddikulus charm at it-

ADeath Eater rose before her, tall-much taller than she, not that that was hard, face merely a suggestion beneath the hood-but the lips were smiling. And it rose the wand to aim at Aweina's eyes-

"Riddikulus!" shouted Aweina again, and the Death Eater's robes turned sequined and bright red, as the dementor's had. "Riddikulus!" she shouted again, stepping forward and forcing it back.

The boggart was obviously weakening. The glittery Death Eater stumbled backwards, and with a final "Riddikulus!" it vanished.

Aweina drew a deep breath, then another, steadying herself. Calmly, she placed her wand inside of her robes and turned to the students, who were watching her carefully. Most of their expressions wavered between sympathy and the last vestiges of amusement at the sequined Death Eater.

"If any of you plan to go into Auror training, be prepared for intensive work with boggarts," said Aweina, as steadily as she could manage, "Many times, your worst fears will appear on the battlefield, and you cannot enchant them away as I did just now. You must learn to work past your fears, or they will claim you. Good work, everyone-if you wish to remain and practice the Patronus Charm some more, feel free to do so. Class dismissed."

Before anyone could say anything, Aweina left the room, walking steadily, extremely glad that her scarf hid her expression. _Stupid, bloody boggart,_ she thought to herself, turning her walk into a stalk down the stairs. _That was a good run of Patronuses, though._

Aweina paused at the bottom of the stairs and drew a few deep breaths, leaning against a nearby wall. Like it or not, the image of Alastor's mangled body had scared her…so she tried to turn her fear into anger at the stupid thing.

_At least I didn't lose control that time…like I did my first session after I got my sight back,_ she thought, somberly, shivering a little as the remembered images flickered in her mind's eye.

Paul…down and screaming, obviously fatally injured…Kali and Lucy's bodies, without a mark upon them but stark terror on their faces…Wesley, neck broken…Alastor's mangled body once again…and as always, the Death Eater, rising to take her sight one more time…

Aweina shook off the memories of that particular boggart, which Paul had finally had to step in and banish for her. "I'll go for a walk," she muttered to herself, striding firmly down the stairs. "And I'll patrol extra-late. If I'm tired enough, the dreams won't come…"

Yet even after patrolling the halls and grading papers, still they ventured into Aweina's mind…

_-0o0-_

_The battlefield was covered with bodies, spattered with blood. The remaining Aurors-Alastor's team and Roxanne Bone's, sped into formation on their broomsticks, bearing down on the Death Eaters…_

_But they were picked off, one by one. Wesley fell from his broken broomstick, screaming…Lucy slid to the side and landed on the ground like a broken doll…_

_And then they were on the ground, pressing grimly forward, for what else could they do?_

_But there was a new addition-Aweina's students were among the dead as she fired spells and spun her eyes…_

_Until Alastor went down, wand snapping as he fell forward and the Death Eaters peppered his body with spells…_

_And just to the side was Harry's body, and Hermione's, and the Weasleys', Remus, McGonagall, Severus-_

_And she was all alone, and the Death Eaters were advancing…_

_-0o0-_

This time, Aweina did not scream, but when she awoke, the sunlight barely touching her window, she closed her eyes-inasmuch as she could-clutched the blankets to herself, and shivered.

The next few weeks passed quietly, DA meetings the only lively points in Aweina's life. They practiced Patronus Charms again, and moved on to singular and team dueling. Aweina was drawing heavily on her half-remembered Auror training-it had been quite a long time ago, after all-and relying on her own creativity for the rest.

_I'm not able to teach them any of the prohibited spells…they're underage, most of them, and I'd get arrested,_ she thought to herself as two groups of students advanced upon one another in the Room of Requirement while the rest looked on, _But still, they're doing a bloody good job. Especially on offense…hmm, I'll have to spend a bit more time on defense, then._

The short, pitched duel in front of her-three students on two-ended with one down on the latter team and all three on the former. Aweina revived the downed members of the DA as cheers from the other students arose and Ginny Weasley was hoisted onto the shoulders of a Ravenclaw and her brother Ron, who carried her around the room before setting her down.

They gathered around Aweina as she cleared her throat, as usual. "Good job on team-dueling," she said, briskly, "Can you spare next Saturday? I'd like to take you outside, but if it's raining, we won't do anything."

Eager nods and murmurs of assent and excitement. "This one's the eighteenth, isn't it?" said Hermione. Aweina nodded. "October eighteenth," she replied, "Two days from now."

"It's a Hogsmeade weekend," said Hermione. Aweina shrugged. "Weekend after that," she said, "Today's the sixteenth…"

"Then your birthday is today!" interrupted Harry with a grin as the Auror tried to figure out the date, stunning Aweina into silence. "One, two, three!" said someone else, and the "Happy Birthday" song rose into the air as the Room of Requirement shifted, creating a table and a cake in front of Aweina-not to mention a party hat on every head.

Aweina just _barely_ remembered to keep her mouth closed, and was glad for the scarf over her eyes, since it covered most of her shocked expression. The song ended-very out of key-and the students cheered as the candles on the cake flared with light.

What could she do but blow out the candles? Aweina tried-but they kept dancing back to life as soon as she stopped blowing. At last, grinning in spite of herself, she extinguished them with a wave of her wand. Picking up the knife she suddenly found in her hand, Aweina cut the cake carefully, looking inside it to make sure there wasn't anything nasty in there.

The cake was empty of all but more cake, and Aweina passed around slices. "So how old are you?" said Ginny, and blushed bright red when she realized what she'd just said.

Aweina turned her head in the girl's direction and said, dryly, "When you're my age, you'll know."

There was a confused silence, but someone broke it with a chuckle, then a laugh. Aweina hopped up to sit on the table, taking her own slice of cake and digging in with a fork.

"A few of us brought presents," said Hermione, "And Ron got the cake and hid it in here."

Aweina stopped chewing for a moment to stare at Hermione, though her head wasn't facing them. Realizing that after a moment, she swallowed. "Ah…thank you," she said, off-balance, "Do you normally do this for professors?"

"Well, you're the only one we know the birthday of," said Harry, with a shrug. "Here."

He passed forward a small package, which Aweina took. Setting her cake aside, she opened it, and drew out…

A silk scarf, much like the ones she wore around her eyes, but this one was bright red and patterned with Snitches.

Aweina laughed. "Thank you! For a moment there, I thought they were going to be Gryffindor lions-and seeing as I was a Ravenclaw, that could have been awkward."

Another package was tossed forward, and Aweina opened it, to find a long, dark green scarf.

A _very_ long, dark green scarf, she found, after trying to get it all out of the package and simply pulling out more and more material. Swiveling an eye up, Aweina saw that several of the students were holding back grins.

"Very funny," she said, dryly, giving the lie to a smile she was failing to hold back herself.

Ginny Weasley tapped the package with her wand, and now Aweina held a card that said, "Happy Birthday, Professor Aquila, from us here at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!"

In quite a loud voice, too, so loud that Aweina nearly dropped it. Now there was good-natured laughter coming from the students, and the professor couldn't help but join in.

She walked away from the Room of Requirement with a stomach full of cake, a now-silent card, and draped with six scarves-most of them wildly patterned, one of them striped, and one of them in Ravenclaw blue. As Aweina entered her office, she set the card on her desk and sent the scarves into her room.

Persephone was sitting on the desk, a package tied to her leg, as were two other owls. "I did leave my window open, didn't I?" said Aweina, more amused than exasperated at her own absentmindedness. "Well, let's see what you've got, then I'll take you back to the Owlery."

Persephone had a package from Paul, Wesley, and Kali, along with a card that sang the Happy Birthday song shrilly until Aweina Silenced it. Inside the package was a set of bright red dress robes, scarf, and cloak. _Wesley's doing,_ decided Aweina, holding the robes up against herself, _Only he would _ever _pick something in this color._

After a few moments, however, the bright color faded to a shade of blue-green, far more suited to Aweina's taste. She chuckled to herself, imagining the scene-Wesley insisting on the robes staying red, and Wesley and Kali simply glaring at him with their arms folded until he gave in.

There was an unfamiliar owl, but the present was from Lucy-surprisingly enough, from America. The card offered no explanation, simply saying, "These are popular among American Muggle teenagers today-Lucy." When Aweina opened the package, mystified, she found pajamas-the shirt printed with a large, cartoon rabbit, smiling, with the caption, "You suck." The pants were printed with more rabbits and more sayings, but Aweina gave up on reading the miniscule writing. Deciding she didn't get it, Aweina set Lucy's gift aside.

The third owl was familiar-Alastor Moody's gray barn owl. Aweina detached the letter-simply a letter-from his leg and opened it.

_Aweina Aquila,_

_Best wishes on your birthday. Meet me for drinks this weekend at the Three Broomsticks, side room. There is something we need to talk about._

_-Alastor Moody_

Aweina read over the letter-well, note really-a few times before it caught fire and fell from her hands. Aweina shook her head at Alastor's paranoia, though she understood it only too well, and offered her arms to the owls.

Lucy's owl took off and fluttered away through the window, but Moody's owl and Persephone stepped onto Aweina's forearms. Turning, Aweina edged out of the door and carried them up to the Owlery.

Friday passed too slowly for either Aweina's or the student's comfort-the students were looking forward to a Hogsmeade weekend, and Aweina was wondering about Moody's letter.

At last, Saturday came, and Aweina dressed in black robes and the red scarf with Snitches. Ignoring the quizzical looks of the students lined up by the door, waiting for Filch to check their permission slips, Aweina stepped outside.

She walked about halfway down the lawn towards the gates, when she realized that it would probably take her half an hour today-seeing as the stretch of road was very long. Well, the students might have to put up with it, but Aweina was a teacher…

Pulling out her wand, Aweina tried to remember if she'd left her window open. Recalling that she had, she said in a firm voice, "Accio broomstick!"

Her Cleansweep, a sturdy broom that had survived many a friendly Quidditch match, aerial duels, and no few battles, came to her side after a few moments. Swinging her leg over, Aweina took off, avoiding a thestral or two absentmindedly.

She touched down in front of The Three Broomsticks after a few minutes, entered, and set her broom in the broom rack, warding it against thieves: anyone who tried to take it away would be victim of a Stinging Hex and a Tickling Charm simultaneously. Turning to Rosemerta, Aweina asked if Alastor was in yet.

"He Flooed in a few minutes ago," said Rosemerta, "Side room. Can I bring you anything?"

"Butterbeer for me today," Aweina replied, cheerfully, and flipped a Sickle at the witch. Taking the butterbeer, she went into the side room, whistling.

"You really cannot whistle," said Alastor's gravelly voice as he shut the door.

-

Well, there's another chapter done! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I had fun writing it. Reviews are muchly loved!

-Fireblade K'Chona


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I own Aweina and the phrase "Dumbledore's Army, Doofus Amigos!" You steal Aweina, she'll hex you into oblivion, you steal the phrase, both of us will curse you into oblivion, though in my case I'll curse you into next Tuesday. WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I AM EVIL!

Well, not really…

**Muse responsible:** Rrissa!

To **Shahanna:** Well, the thing is, there tend to be multiple pages in one report, so Aweina's a bit stuck. Glad you're loving it!

_Aweina's thoughts _and "-0o0-" will denote the beginning and end of a dream or flashback.

* * *

"You've caught me," said Aweina, swiveling an eye back to face her teacher, "And I caught the tripwire, you behind the door, and the Stinging Hex on the cap of this bottle."

This custom-of Alastor setting up minor traps for the Aurors he had trained-had begun long ago, when first the group had met. Aweina still remembered that day with much amusement…

_-0o0-_

They had edged into the room cautiously, looking at each other, then around for their mentor. Suddenly, Lucy was caught by the ankle and held high in the air, upside-down…Aweina was hit with a Body-Bind and fell over, while Wesley and Paul fell victim to Tickling Charms…Kali's predicament was perhaps the most amusing, as her upper body froze and her legs began jerking around in a strange parody of the Muggle Riverdance…

_And Alastor had strolled out of the shadows, eyed them, and said, "You're going to need a _lot_ of work."_

_-0o0-_

Alastor nodded and took the butterbeer, removing the hex as Aweina locked the door, removed the tripwire, and untied the scarf around her eyes. Brushing her hair into place absently, Aweina slipped the scarf into her pocket and sat down near the fire, enjoying the touch of air on skin that rarely felt it. She took the butterbeer back from Alastor and popped the cap, raising the bottle to her mentor.

"Happy birthday," said the other Auror as he raised his own hip flask. Both of them sipped.

"I noticed your new scarf," said Alastor, after a moment, rolling his eye towards Aweina's pocket. "Snitches, is it?"

"I let my birthday slip to Potter a while ago, and he and the rest of the special Defense class threw a party," replied Aweina, laughing, "There's a striped one, one color-shifting one, the one in my pocket, a few other crazily printed things, and one in a decent shade of Ravenclaw blue."

Alastor chuckled for a moment or two. "Oh, yes, and one of them was a Weasley's Wizard Wheezes card-there was just more and more material until their younger sister unhexed it for me," said Aweina, with another laugh.

"Sounds just like them," said Alastor, "They're doing well. I wouldn't be surprised if they outsell Zonko's, at least by catalog."

"Well, they don't have a branch here," replied Aweina, smiling, "But it's only a matter of time, _I_ believe."

"How's the job?" said Alastor, after a few moments of silence. He leaned back in his chair, his normal eye on Aweina's face while the other spun lazily.

"Most of them are doing fairly well," Aweina replied, "A few of the new ones I'm having older students tutor, but most of them are progressing nicely. That…_woman_ last year didn't help them at _all._ And of course, the older students' Defense career has _gaping_ holes in it-hardly any of them knew anything about alternative shielding spells, for instance."

"And the…special group?" inquired Alastor.

"It's a good thing I'm not recruiting for the Aurors at this time!" laughed Aweina, "They'd be snapped up in minutes. I'm working with them on team dueling-they seem only to have been taught singular defense, which is well and good, but-" Aweina dropped into an imitation of Alastor's gravelly voice-"'Either you stand and fight together, or you'll fall one by one!'"

"And in addition to not being able to whistle, you can't do very good imitations," retorted Alastor, dryly. Aweina shrugged.

"Anyway, I can't teach them some spells at the moment, because most of them just aren't _ready,_ but I'm doing what I can," she finished.

Alastor remained quiet for several moments, then said, slowly, "If you can…give Potter extra tutoring. One-on-one, like I did with you. He's a very promising lad."

Something in his tone made Aweina swivel both eyes to look at her mentor. "There's news," she said, flatly. It wasn't a question.

"Nothing overt," said Alastor, leaning forward and dropping his voice. Aweina checked for eavesdroppers and leaned forward as well. "But…there's stirrings. Rumors. Things are rather tense. Most of our…suspects…are nervous."

"It's the calm before a storm," muttered Aweina, slowly, after a few moments of thought, "When you're not sure that anything's wrong, but there's enough suspicion to put your back up…"

"You've got that right."

"Last year, Potter was receiving lessons in Occlumency," said Aweina, after a few moments, "I remember I got to headquarters not long after the row between Severus and…and Sirius. Remus filled me in on what he could. Too bad I wasn't much good at it. Occlumency, I mean."

"You're better than you think you are," said Alastor, sitting up and taking a drink from his flask. Aweina blinked in slight surprise-compliments from Alastor were rare.

"Well, I'm not half as good as Dumbledore. Or even Severus," she said after a moment, "I can block, but I'm not that good at lying. Duplicity's not my strong point."

"_None_ of the Aquilas are good at lying," Alastor pointed out, "Your entire family is almost painfully honest."

"I'm not sure whether that's a compliment," Aweina replied, wryly. "Is there anything I need to be briefed on?"

"If you can, insult Severus in the next few days-he needs a row about now to 'confirm' himself, and you-well, you're an Auror," said Alastor, "On the side of 'saintly Potter,' as he puts it. Albus will let you know when the next meeting is."

Alastor stood and stretched, slowly. Aweina fished the scarf from her pocket and held it in her hand, ready to tie it around her eyes again…but at the moment, she didn't really want to. "Shall we associate with the students, or are you leaving?" she said.

"I've been pulled back to train more Aurors," said Alastor, sighing. "Half of them are too terrified of me to do anything, and the other half think my reputation is three times the size it should be."

Aweina smiled. "Well, you'll whip them into shape soon enough. You did for _us,_ after all."

"I'll have to," said Alastor, "Happy birthday."

The Auror vanished with a whip-crack. Aweina smiled to herself-the brief meeting was all too typical of her mentor-and tied the scarf around her eyes. Settling it, she picked up her butterbeer, unhexed the doorknob so her skin wouldn't turn green-the last of Alastor's traps-and went into the bar.

There were students there, chattering happily as they drank butterbeer. Aweina shook her head at a wave from Potter and saw Severus through the door.

Moments later, he walked into the Three Broomsticks.

_Might as well stage the fight now,_ thought Aweina, rolling an eye around the room, _There's Slytherins in the corner…all right._

Filling her voice with scorn, Aweina said to Severus as he walked towards the bar, right past her, "Not enough to influence the students against me, and now you're polluting this bar?"

Severus stopped in his tracks, startled, and whirled around to face Aweina. Aweina scratched her right ear-a general Order hand-sign, used mostly to indicate that the Order was involved in whatever was happening. Severus's eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed in recognition. "For your information, Aquila," he spat, "I've been drinking here for more than ten years. If anything, _you're_ the interloper."

Aweina was filled with admiration for Severus-he was indeed a superb actor. There was just the right amount of venom in his voice to make her think it was real as the students hushed.

She set down her mostly-finished butterbeer on the bar, firmly. "_Interloper,_ am I?" Aweina said, deliberately, "I see the Snape arrogance _right_ on cue."

"_Arrogant,_ am I?" snarled Severus, "When an Aquila battles with me, _then_ I'll be arrogant."

For a moment, Aweina was completely, utterly bewildered-it seemed the most inane comeback ever to have existed. Then she realized her fellow Order member was dragging in the Snape/Aquila feud-it hadn't flared up for years, but neither family particularly liked the other even now. Aweina rose to her family's pride and drew herself up to her full height-admittedly, more than six inches shorter than Severus, but nevertheless somewhat impressive if you were sitting down, as the watching students were.

"You _dare?_" she hissed, clenching her fists. "You _dare_ insult the Eagle with your sniveling, squirming _snake_?"

It rather fit that both the Snape and Slytherin sigil were snakes, and that the Ravenclaw and Aquila sigils were eagles. There was a double-attack there for anyone to see-first, a slur on Severus's family, second on his Hogwarts house.

"You call _us_ sniveling?" said Snape, his voice rising. "When the Eagle's feathers are dragging in the mud, associating with _Muggles_?"

The silence in the bar was tense. Every student Aweina could see-and that was all of them-was on the edge of their seats, listening for all they were worth.

"Oh, I _forgot!_ You're too _high-and-mighty_ to even _speak_ with those on friendly terms with Muggles!" shouted Aweina, allowing her voice to rise as if with anger to add authenticity. "Your _noses_ so high in the _air_ that you can't even smell your own _stink!_ You-all of you-positively _reek_ with snobbery and stiff-neckedness!"

Aweina realized that "neckedness" wasn't a word, per se, a split second after she had said it, and hoped people would ignore it. No one seemed to have noticed it, and Aweina focused both eyes on Severus.

His fists were clenched, knuckles white, and his eyes were so narrowed Aweina was amazed he could still see. "Draw, _Aquila,_" he spat at last, "If you have the _courage._"

Aweina very nearly applauded as she turned and left the bar. "On brooms, Aquila," Severus said as she reached the threshold, "Unless the Eagle is too cowardly to _fly,_ now"

Aweina took her broom from the rack, nodding inwardly at Severus's sense. He had chosen the brooms so spectators would be less able to see…therefore, the highly-trained Auror and former Death Eater would be able to hold back their full strength.

Aweina stalked outside, wishing absently that she hadn't worn the scarf with Snitches today. It seemed rather incongruous with the fight they were staging.

Severus left the bar with his own broom in hand, talking quietly to Malfoy, whose face was tight with anger. At last, Draco nodded, and Severus stood several feet from Aweina.

He nodded tightly, and both mounted their brooms. They flew upwards, keeping a careful distance from each other, until they reached about two hundred feet. To the students, both would be black blobs…this was a problem.

Severus solved it by taking out his handkerchief and muttering a spell, Transfiguring it until it was a banner with the Snape crest upon it. He tied it to the handle of his broomstick.

Aweina followed suit with her own, making the Aquila crest of a mantling red eagle on a field of blue, with four red lilies surrounding it and tying it to her broom. The banners fluttered in the light breeze.

"I'm assuming this is like a 'training session,'" said Severus. Aweina nodded and turned her broom, turning to face Severus again when she was twenty feet away. The Auror drew her wand. "We'll give them a show, but don't use anything…special," she replied, hoping he could hear.

Severus nodded, and whirled his wand at Aweina. The air rippled as a curse flew at her, but she blocked it with a shouted incantation. Not pausing, the Defense teacher fired two Stinging Hexes back at him.

Curses and counter-curses flew, mostly jets of light-more to impress than actually harm-but occasionally they would fire larger, more serious spells at each other. Nothing the other would not be able to block, but even so…

Aweina whirled her broom away from a Body-Bind and rolled in the air to avoid a more powerful version of the same spell Severus fired. One of her eyes detected a figure on another broom, flying several dozen feet below the duelers-just over the students' heads.

"**Stop!**" boomed a voice, as Dumbledore pulled his broom up. "Get yourselves down here _immediately._"

Both of the two sullenly descended, halting their fired spells. Aweina and Severus landed several feet from each other, holding their brooms so their family crests were obvious. Aweina rolled an eye to look at Severus-his expression was positively _murderous._ Thanks to the scarf, Aweina had little need to manufacture an expression, but she still managed to school her face into something approaching anger.

"I have not seen such disgraceful behavior from two of my staff in my _entire_ career," said Professor Dumbledore, the sparkle gone from his eyes, "Getting into a duel in public, in front of _students,_ no less-all over a petty feud you should have abandoned _years_ ago."

Looking back at the students, Dumbledore waved a hand at them. Slowly, they dispersed. "We will continue this conversation in my office," he finished, and Disapparated.

Both Aweina and Severus followed suit, appearing just outside the gates of Hogwarts. A few minutes walking saw them sitting in Dumbledore's office.

None spoke as Albus put his broom away and sat down behind his desk. He looked at the two professors over his steepled hands…

And stood again, beaming. "_Brilliant!_" he said, all the sparkle returning to his eyes, "I couldn't have staged it better on my own! I could hardly keep from laughing!"

"You're a good actor, sir," began Aweina, awkwardly.

"Not _half_ as good as you two were a few minutes ago! Oh, the rumors will be _flying_ that Severus is on bad terms with the Aurors! But who started it?"

"I did," said Aweina, "I spoke to Alastor today, and he told me to stage a fight as soon as possible."

"I must confess, for the first few minutes I had no idea what was happening," said Severus, reluctantly, as Albus turned his head to look at him. "But this will improve my…credibility…considerably."

"Of course it will," said Albus, eyes twinkling, "You and the Auror professor, on the bare edge of breaking into insults and duels…if you can act tense around each other, sit as far away from each other as possible and avoid each other in the halls-that sort of thing-it would help even more. You have to keep up appearances for the students, of course."

"But what will our punishment be?" said Aweina, a tone in her voice making it obvious that the "punishment" was no such thing.

"Oh, nothing-" said Albus, flapping a hand impatiently-"But if you can act tense and angry for the next few days in class, maybe mutter insults when you pass each other, it would help. Severus, what will you tell the Dark Lord?"

"The Auror is a despicable piece of vermin," said Severus, "As pure-blooded as the Aquilas are, they are hardly better than the Weasleys-even the _Potters-_for associating with Muggles and Mudbloods. I refuse to associate with the woman."

"We'll work on that," mused Dumbledore, "Good. And Aweina?"

She shrugged. "I'll act tense-next time in the Three Broomsticks, maybe I'll get Alastor to come and I'll rant about Severus in the students' hearing. Something like that."

"Good," said Dumbledore, "And somehow appropriate…Alastor did tip you off. Very well, consider yourselves scolded. Kindly return to your duties."

Aweina nodded to Albus and turned, taking her handkerchief off the broom and Transfiguring it back to normal.

There were no students to impede her on the way to her quarters, and Aweina put her broom away. Grabbing a piece of parchment, she began a letter to Moody.

_Dear Alastor,_

_I absolutely, positively, cannot _stand_ Severus Snape. He had the _nerve_ to imply that I was an interloper, and to insult my family when his own are little better than the snake on their crest! As well, he insulted my House, which was the last straw. We dueled on broomsticks-it was a draw, but I would have _won_ if Albus Dumbledore had not cut into our little…discussion. I admit I probably should not have let my temper get the better of me in front of the students, but he insulted my family _and_ my House, so I defended my honor accordingly. I don't know if I'm going to be able to bear having him as my colleague, but Albus told us we had to "get along." On the other hand, I fear my broom-dueling skills could use some work. Even now, you're the best coach I know of-perhaps you could give me some pointers some weekend-not this one, I'm busy-and we could go out for drinks afterward._

_Yours, Aweina Aquila._

Aweina looked over the letter, scanning it for any sign that it was a coded message-which it was. Confident that to an outsider, it would appear simply as an old feud erupting again-as well as telling Alastor everything he needed to know about the fight, and that she would like to talk with him-she folded it and sealed it. _I sound like a pompous arsehole,_ she thought, wryly, _But it's convincing. I think. If anyone spots a loop in it, though, it'll be Alastor…and I'll get an earful._

Writing Alastor Moody's name on the outside, Aweina walked to the Owlery and sent Persephone into the night.

* * *

Good chapter? I liked it! It was muchly fun to write. Moody is bloody awesome! Anyway…reviews are loved! –unsubtle hint-

Toodles!

Fireblade K'Chona


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** Kindly note the name of the website. Thank you. Now, all I own here is Aweina, the phrase "Dumbledore's Army, Doofus Amigos," and the plot. Oh yeah, also Aweina's friends and Persephone!

As a sidenote, Blaise is…not really evil here. I don't know why, but I like Blaise better when he's sort-of-good. He's the good-ish Slytherin, in my opinion, if anyone was wondering why he seems to be halfway decent.

**Muse responsible:** Rrissa!

_Aweina's thoughts _and "-0o0-" will denote the beginning and end of a dream or flashback.

* * *

Aweina acted crabby and bad-tempered the next few days, glowering and muttering under her breath whenever Severus happened to cross her path. He held up his part as well, glaring at her coldly and taking different routes whenever possible. As Monday rolled around, she found herself on the receiving end of murderous glares from the Slytherins, a side effect she hadn't considered until now…

She kept one eye on Draco Malfoy as she scribbled on the board. Already she was thanking Merlin for the training and little tricks Alastor had given and played on her-they kept her on her toes, when things were serious. As they were now.

Each time Aweina entered her office, she had to carefully unhex her doorknob, since Slytherins took every opportunity to jinx it. She had not sat down in her chair today, because there was a rather nasty curse on the seat she hadn't had the chance to remove yet. Aweina kept the chalk with her at all times, and had removed her quill and ink from her desk.

Even now, the Slytherins were giving her ugly looks-though they were getting their own share of looks from the Gryffindors. Aweina had been slightly amused to hear that the Ravenclaws were praising her loudly whenever Slytherins walked by, which apparently set the other house even more on edge.

_Apparently the inter-House rivalries haven't died,_ she thought, wryly, as she finished writing down the precise definition of a Blocking Spell-occasionally used by cheating Quidditch players on their goal posts, but primarily used to block objects from hitting the wizard in question, quite a handy little spell for the ones stoned out of their villages in the Middle Ages.

_He's going to try something,_ thought Aweina instantly as she turned, keeping an eye on Draco as the look on his face changed slightly. _I'll just guard for it, then…_

"Ah…Parkinson, Brown, forward please," she said, letting her other eye roll over the students. "Brown, kindly perform for us a Blocking Spell. Parkinson, throw a cushion at her."

The Slytherin girl picked up a cushion and flung it at Lavender as the Gryffindor recited the incantation. As it should, the cushion flopped harmlessly to the ground a foot away from Lavender. "Back to your seats," ordered Aweina, "Zabini, explain why this is not always a practical spell."

"Because it does not block most magical attacks," said Blaise, promptly. "It's useful when Muggles are throwing things at you, but not when a wizard is firing spells."

"Good," said Aweina, turning back to the board, "Now, the official definition -"

Somehow, Aweina's attention had slipped from Draco Malfoy, and he took that opportunity to strike. _"Accio scarf!"_ he shouted-

And Aweina's scarf was yanked away from her eyes. She stiffened in shock and whirled reflexively, groping for her wand and dropping the chalk-

The room went dead silent, broken only by the sound of the chalk as it rolled away and the soft _flumph_ Aweina's Ravenclaw-blue scarf made when it fell to Draco's desk.

Aweina rolled both of her eyes forward, half-reached up to her face, but folded her arms just in time, to maintain an illusion of control.

She was well aware of how she looked-red, ugly scars around her eyes, legacy of the Lashing Curse, looking barely-healed at best, her eyes large, bulging, and rotating slowly-though Aweina tried to keep them forward-and only tattered remains of eyelids. "Well?" she said, her voice somehow steady, "Are you _happy_ now, Mr. Malfoy?"

The Slytherin didn't answer, eyes locked on hers, expression blank with shock. Aweina took a step forward, then another. Draco shifted back slightly in his chair as Aweina reached his desk, placed her hands on it, and leaned forward, looking directly into his eyes, face barely three inches from his own.

"You've had your revenge. You've seen what you've wished to see," said Aweina, just barely keeping from snarling the words, "I hope you are _content._ You are lucky. If I had had my wand in my hand, I might have reacted from reflex-and I am a fully-trained, battle-seasoned Auror. You are _extremely_ lucky all I was holding was chalk."

Picking up her scarf, Aweina tied it over her eyes with practiced ease, snugging the knot at the back of her head. "A roll and a half of parchment on the chapter we are on," she said, turning away and walking up to her desk. Leaning on it, she turned her face to every person in the classroom, one by one. "Due Thursday. Malfoy, fifteen points from Slytherin for pranking a teacher and detention with Filch on Wednesday at eight. Class dismissed."

The class slowly filed out of the room, quiet as they packed, shooting looks at Aweina as she waited for them to leave. As the last student left, Aweina waved her wand at the classroom door. It slammed shut with a bang that echoed down the halls-she saw several students jump outside-but took no satisfaction in it.

Removing the curses on her desk and chair took a scant few minutes, and Aweina locked and warded the classroom door, thankful that the sixth years were her last class of the day. Turning, she stalked into her office, warding and locking that door as well-making it clear she did _not_ want to be disturbed.

Secure in her rooms at last, Aweina dropped into her chair, energy running out of her like blood from an open wound. She seethed with fury at Malfoy, but tangled into the miasma were shame and sorrow as well. Aweina dropped her head into her hands and let her eyes roll around slowly, ignoring what she saw.

She stayed that way for a long time, half-wanting to cry, half-wanting to find Malfoy and murder him slowly-well, perhaps not _murder,_ just severely injure-and being slightly thankful that the curses had destroyed her tear ducts.

Like it or not, Aweina could not shed tears anymore, even if she had wanted to.

There was a timid knock on her office door. Aweina focused through it and saw Potter, of all people. _Why is _he_ here-oh, yes, I asked him to speak to me before class, didn't I,_ she thought. Picking up her wand from where it lay on the desk, she unlocked the door from where she sat. "Enter."

Aweina was proud that her voice was absolutely steady, no hint of the anger beneath. Harry Potter came into the room slowly, almost fearfully. "Get on with it, you _know_ I don't bite," Aweina snapped, and Harry jumped.

It did the trick, though-he closed the door and sat down in the chair opposite Aweina. "You wished to speak with me, Professor?" he said, very, very politely.

"Alastor thinks I should give you private dueling lessons. Moreover, I agree, and Dumbledore agrees," said Aweina, without preamble-she wasn't in the mood. "When are you free?"

"Well…I've got the rest of the Defense hour free at the moment," said Harry, glancing at Aweina nervously, "Then I have an hour after school officially ends, then Quidditch practice till dinner. I can also come…tomorrow, from four to five."

"Tomorrow it is," said Aweina, "I'm not in the mood today, and it would affect my teaching."

Harry was looking at her with an odd expression on his face-something close to pity, Aweina realized. If anything, that made her even more irritable, the last vestiges of sadness flooded in a tide of anger. "I don't _need_ your pity, Potter," she said, rising sharply and tucking her wand into her robes, "I got _plenty_ of it after I lost my sight. I got it my first training session with Alastor-and I believe that was the only time I truly deserved it. I've had pity on numerous other occasions, when people look at me, see only the scarf, and think only of the loss of my eyes."

She reached up and brushed the scarf with her fingertips, unconsciously. "I _chose_ to be an Auror, boy, and I accepted-still do accept-everything that comes with it. The responsibilities, the risk-all of it is just part of my life. There is no room for _pity_ there." Aweina nearly snarled the last words, but kept her voice on the edge of calm.

Harry opened his mouth as if to say something, closed it when Aweina turned to face him, but opened it again. "I'm sorry," he said, "It sounds stupid, but…"

"Go away, Potter," said Aweina, dropping into her desk chair, "Just…go away. Tomorrow, four-thirty, my classroom. Check the door for hexes first-the Slytherins don't seem to like me anymore."

Harry left the room quickly, and Aweina let her face fall into her hands again.

How am I going to be able to teach them? Any of them? I won't be able to look at Malfoy without thinking of that, and the rumors will be flying-are flying, if I know anything about students…

She didn't know how long she sat there, but her door opened again. Aweina rolled an eye up, and saw Professor Dumbledore standing there. "May I?" he said, lightly.

Aweina waved a hand vaguely; Albus interpreted it as 'sit down' and took the chair in front of her desk, closing the door with a wave of his wand. "I heard," he said, leaning back.

Aweina briefly wondered what Albus _didn't_ hear about, at least at Hogwarts. "I gave Malfoy the standard detention for pranking a teacher," she said, glad her voice was steady. Then again, perhaps it wasn't so surprising-she had lived through far worse than this, battles, Alastor's training, and far too many funerals.

"As you should have," said Albus. "Will you look at me? It's disconcerting to talk to the top of your head."

_"Disconcerting," my arse,_ thought Aweina, _I've never seen him disconcerted in the slightest._ This wasn't exactly true, but Aweina ignored the evidence in her mind. _Still…_

Aweina made herself look at Alastor, or turned her face to him, at least. "And before you start, I've got both eyes on you," she said, rather more sharply than she'd intended. Dumbledore nodded. "What precisely happened?" he said, gently.

Aweina drew a breath. "I was writing down the definition of a Blocking Spell when Malfoy used a Summoning Charm on my scarf," she said, voice flat, "I whirled around, almost went for my wand before I got my reflexes under control, and-well. The scarf landed on his desk."

"I don't think any of the students have ever seen the long-term affects of a Lashing Spell," said Dumbledore.

Aweina laughed cynically. "Bloody well right. They stared at me like…"

Her voice trailed off as she remembered the stark shock on the faces of most of the students, even terror on some of them. "I don't know how I'm going to be able to face them tomorrow."

"You will," said Albus, firmly, "It didn't hamper you before."

Possibly to Dumbledore's surprise, Aweina laughed again, this time even more cynically. "After I recovered, before I started using scarves, I was usually in the company of Aurors. They're no strangers to scars or wounds, or even magically replaced body parts-but it was because of the stares of the non-Aurors that I chose to start using these." Aweina reached up and touched her scarf lightly.

"Are you going to write to Alastor?"

Aweina paused. "Yes," she said, at last, "I suppose I need to. I wrote him about Severus's and my…quarrel, but this needs telling."

"And you're closer to him than you are me," said Dumbledore, "I see."

Aweina didn't move, but she was surprised-Albus had driven straight to the heart of the matter. "He gave me my eyes," she said, bluntly, "If I can't talk to him…who can I talk to?"

Even Albus didn't seem to have an answer to this. After another few minutes, he stood and left.

The next day at Hogwarts was about as awkward as any Aweina had ever had, and that included when she had inadvertently turned Professor Crowe (who had been the Defense teacher at the time) into a buffalo. Aweina _still_ wasn't sure how she'd done that, but at least Professor Crowe had taken it in good humor, whereas she…

Well, the first years barely uttered a word and flinched whenever she called on them, the fourth years had whispered amongst themselves the entire lesson, and the sixth years…

They were the first Slytherins she'd had that day, the first-year class being made up of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws and the fourth-year class Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. The Slytherins openly eyed her up and down, their shock gone, whereas the Gryffindors tried not to look at her, but when they did, their expressions were pitying.

All in all, it was enough to make Aweina want to scream. Though it was rather petty of her, the Auror did take slight pleasure in making the chalk screech on the blackboard and watching them flinch as she wrote the date in the corner of the board.

"Today we will study offensive magic," said Aweina, turning to the class, "We have been looking at defensive magic for some time, but today we will focus on curses."

"Like the Conjunctivitis Curse?" said Pansy Parkinson, face innocent. The Slytherins snickered and the Gryffindors divided worried looks towards Aweina and glares at the Slytherins. Aweina took mental hold of herself. _All right…so they're going to aim for jibes today, to see if they can break my control. I can't take points for a question, though…damn it._

Aweina answered smoothly, "The Conjunctivitis Curse is something you should have learned last year, Parkinson, but if you feel you must, we can go over it."

_There. A small jibe back,_ thought Aweina with satisfaction as Pansy scowled. The Gryffindors looked rather startled, but Harry and Ron exchanged grins-quick ones, but Aweina's eye was on them at the moment-that their teacher was holding her own.

"There are of course the basic petrifying jinxes," said Aweina, turning back to the board and scrawling the names of a few, "These are aimed to prevent your opponent from return attack until you can launch a lengthier spell. However, some wizards can shatter these without use of their wands, and a few of us are mostly immune to at least the basic ones. All wizards can learn to block them, though, or dodge them, therefore nullifying them as effectively as resisting them or shattering them. Someone tell me the incantations for these on the board."

Hermione raised her hand immediately, as always, but Aweina pointed over her shoulder at Lavender Brown. "Name three."

The Gryffindor rattled off three, and Hermione got the rest. "All right-Longbottom, Malfoy, Patil, and Zabini, middle of the room."

The four students named obediently filed into the center. "Remember the shielding spell you learned a few days ago? Good. Now, I am going to be the Dark wizard. Your job is to block these petrifying spells, if you can. Last one up gets five points to their House. Block _only._"

The four spread out, in accordance with some of Aweina's earlier practical lessons-give your opponent multiple targets, and you're harder to hit. Aweina drew her wand and pointed it at Parvati.

The girl dodged, but Aweina had moved already to Zabini, who hadn't been quite ready. He just barely managed to block the spell and staggered as it clipped him. Aweina moved on to Neville, who blocked very competently, and Petrified Parvati.

The purpose of this exercise was simply to practice blocking, but Aweina kept an eye on Malfoy and dodged the Stunning spell he fired at her. "Five points from Slytherin," she said, crisply, "I said defend _only._" A split second after she finished, Aweina fired a Petrifying spell at Malfoy, who fell.

Neville and Blaise were the only two left, and they eyed each other, then Aweina warily. Aweina waited for a moment. _If they team up and guard each other's backs, they'll have learned the lesson I've been trying to get to them…_

After a moment, she attacked Neville, sending one of the more difficult curses to block at him. Neville squeaked and fumbled the shield as Aweina bore down on him-

And Blaise blocked it without thinking, obviously as surprised as everyone else in the classroom. As the spell went careening away and shattered a windowpane, which Aweina repaired with an absent wave of her wand, she smiled at them. "_Very_ good!" she said, "You've gotten the lesson I've been trying to teach you."

Blaise and Neville looked rather confused. Aweina UnPetrified Parvati and Malfoy and went back to her desk. "You, Blaise, sprang to protect Neville without thinking," she explained, "I've been trying to instill teamwork in you, and this shows it's working. Congratulations, and ten points to both Houses."

The lesson continued with a few further jibes from some of the Slytherins, but Aweina's success kept her temper even and she ignored them easily.

The end of class came, and Harry stayed behind. "Ah, yes, I teach you now, don't I?" said Aweina.

Harry nodded as the rest of the class left and Aweina erased the board. "Wand out," she said, putting the chalk down, "I'm going to draw directly from Alastor's one-on-one training with me. You're going to be worked very hard, but I'll turn you into a competent dueler."

Harry nodded again, setting his bag down and drawing his wand. Aweina drew her own wand, running a hand absentmindedly over the smooth rowan, and turned towards Harry as she realized she had been looking at him through the back of her head. "First of all, do you know how to stand?" she said.

Harry moved into a stance. Aweina shook her head. "No-you need to stand braced, but in a movement where you can easily dodge. Actually, put your wand away-we're going to start with all kinds of dodging. Rolls, turning and running, diving, getting behind stuff-" she grinned as Harry groaned, tucking his wand inside his robes.

"Right. Now, set your feet like this-"

The next half-hour or so was intensive for both Aweina and Harry as they worked on various dodges. First Aweina taught him how to fall, slapping the ground and rolling away. She gained bruises from the stone floor as she showed Harry some things Alastor had taught her-throwing herself to the side, backwards, forwards, rolling different ways, and the various ways to dive behind things. Even at the best of times, Aweina got bruises from practice, and this was no exception.

After teaching Harry how to fall, dive, leap over and behind objects, and so on, Aweina set him in the middle of the room and fired basic spells at him-nothing extreme, simply a few simple enchantments that would turn his robes bright purple if he didn't dodge.

Aweina nodded approvingly as Harry dived behind her desk. Alastor had tried this with her, Wesley, and Lucy at the same time, and yet their robes had turned nearly solid yellow, even though Alastor had multiple targets.

Harry's robes had gained a few splotches of purple, but overall he was doing well as he dodged. "Don't be afraid to fall!" called Aweina, "Being afraid to hit the ground will only handicap you, and a minute of hesitation could cost you your life!"

When Harry was breathing hard, Aweina told him to draw his wand. Harry looked at Aweina in disbelief. She watched him until he drew, muttering. "Now we are going to duel," she said, "You on defense-run and dodge behind things, but feel free to toss a curse my way." Aweina smiled wolfishly.

Harry held his wand ready, and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

Aweina dodged, flinging herself to the floor and rolling, and shot a Jelly-legs hex at him from under a desk. Rising sharply, she ducked behind another desk, firing a Stunning spell at him.

Harry blocked with "Protego!" and dived behind another desk.

Aweina pressed Harry, not using her full skill as an Auror, but drawing on her memories of her first days of training with Alastor-the one-on-one sessions, mostly. Even now, Alastor surpassed Aweina in dueling-she could hold her own against him for a long while, but eventually he always won.

Harry was skilled in dueling-perhaps not surprising-and he held his own rather well, getting hit only a few times. He never scored on Aweina, but then, Aweina was a battle-seasoned veteran and very skilled at dodging.

As the end of their hour approached, Harry shouted something Aweina had no notion he would be able to cast-"_Leglimens!"_

To her shock, Aweina was hit-

found her memories brought to the surface of her mind-

_-0o0-_

_Their first day in training, running around the arena, over obstacle courses and diving behind things as Alastor fired light hexes-_

_Training on broomsticks-no, not training, a real battle as she brought her broom sharply up-_

_Running through Hogwarts in fifth year, racing her friend to the library-_

**The fragmented thoughts began to coalesce into whole memories-**

_Another battle, the first Aweina had been brought into-Alastor bellowing orders alternated with spells as she went back-to-back with Lucy…_

_Another battle, on brooms, high above a Muggle city-Ministry members busy erasing memories of Muggles as Aurors swooped and glided above the city to keep the Dark wizards back…_

_Then the battle Aweina remembered best-_**she tried to wrench her mind away, but Occulmency wasn't her strong point**_-the Death Eater appeared in front of her, and she was aware of details she hadn't paid attention to before, Alastor shifting against her back and the descant of screams on the battlefield, as the Dark wizard rose his wand and shouted, "Oculsecui!"_

_There was blinding pain and her screams tore the air as the flesh was _ripped_ from her face, the Lashing Curse whipping cruelly across her eyes-_

_And she was down and shrieking as the Death Eater fired the spell again, and again-she lost count in the pain, the burning agony across her face, and Alastor was above her, growling curses as she writhed in pain, trying to escape the torture-_

_-0o0-_

Aweina came back to herself on her hands and knees, gasping and trembling as if she had just run six miles and fought a battle at the end of it. She shook as she knelt, breath coming in pants as her heart pounded against her ribs.

_Just a memory,_ she tried to convince herself as she slowly dropped further, sat down, and leaned against the wall, wiping sweat from her forehead.

One of her eyes landed on Harry, whose face had gone white. He stumbled forward and dropped to his knees near Aweina. "Professor?" he stammered, obviously taken aback by Aweina's reaction.

Aweina realized her scarf was damp with sweat, and even though her breathing had steadied, she was still quivering like a leaf in a high wind. "I should have expected that, Potter," she said, "Well-maybe not _expected_ it-but…you're bloody strong, you know that? I couldn't break free…"

She realized she was babbling and cut herself off, leaning her head against the wall and bringing her eyes so they no longer focused through her scarf, taking refuge in the darkness. "I-didn't realize-" stuttered Harry, "The pain-how-"

Aweina swiveled an eye to look at him. "I don't know how I survived the pain," she said, quietly, "You-you're the first person to see that memory. _Ever._ Alastor knows what I went through-he was _there-_but I've never told anyone else…"

Her voice trailed away. Harry bit his lip nervously. "I'm-I'm sorry," he said, voice still shaky, "I-I don't know why I used that spell, it just sprang to mind, and-"

"Remind me to tell you about the time I accidentally turned Professor Crowe into a buffalo," said Aweina, getting her breath under control by looking at the wall across from her.

Harry chuckled weakly. "Really?"

"I still don't know how it happened," replied Aweina, resting her head against the wall and scratching her temple underneath her scarf, where some of the sweat had dried and was starting to itch. "Anyway…I would appreciate it if you didn't do that again, Potter. I relive that battle in…in dreams, and I would prefer to forget it entirely."

Harry was quiet for a few moments, occasionally opening his mouth as if to say something, then closing it. Aweina kept an eye on him but left her head leaning against the wall. _I remember Occulmency…if what he just did was correctly cast, he _lived_ that memory with me…not good._

Sure enough, Harry occasionally half-raised his hand to his face, as if to check that his eyes were still there, faintly shuddering, even though he had been a mere bystander.

A few minutes later-was it only minutes?-Professor McGonagall _burst_ into the classroom, followed closely by Madam Hooch and Professor Sprout. "We heard screaming in the staffroom-" said Minerva, looking around the classroom, wand out.

Aweina groaned, but stood up slowly, leaning against the wall. "I was helping Potter with defensive magic," she said, carefully, making sure her legs would hold her, "He shot a-a Leglimens spell-"

The three professors whipped their heads to Harry, who bit his lip and stared at the ground. "I-it hit me hard," said Aweina, licking her lips, "He-Potter somehow brought up the memory of…of…"

She raised her hand to her scarf and tapped lightly beside one of her eyes. "He's bloody strong, even if it wasn't what he'd meant to do, and I've never been good at Occulmency, and I couldn't break free-I relived…"

Aweina cut off her sentence and snatched her hand away from her scarf. Turning her face to the wall, she pressed her forehead against the stone, shuddering. "The pain-"

There was sudden sympathy on the faces of the other three professors. Aweina gathered herself and turned her face back towards them. For a moment she imagined what they must have heard-a long, frantic scream, echoing through the halls, possibly accompanied by a yell from Potter. Aweina turned her thoughts away from it deliberately.

"Well, if you're unhurt-" began Professor Sprout, awkwardly, but was cut off by the sound of running feet. The door was filled again, this time by two prefects, Professor Flitwick, and Severus Snape. "We heard screaming," they chorused-well, all of them but Severus, anyway-and tried to get into the room.

Aweina sighed, and retold the story, edited slightly-Potter had hit her with a spell, and she had suddenly relived a very painful battle. She finished just in time for more people to come into the corridor, breathing hard from the race up the stairs.

Aweina sighed again and looked around for her wand-Potter handed it to her-and began putting the desks and chairs back, as Professor McGonagall took over.

* * *

Well…yeah, there was another chapter of Aweina's story! Poor Aweina.

Anyway…review, please!

Fireblade K'Chona


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** Kindly note the name of the website. Thank you. Now, all I own here is Aweina, the phrase "Dumbledore's Army, Doofus Amigos," and the plot. Oh yeah, also Aweina's friends and Persephone!

**Muse responsible:** Rrissa!

_Aweina's thoughts _and "-0o0-" will denote the beginning and end of a dream or flashback.

And before someone asks, it's just strange coincidence that all Aweina's sibling's names so far start with A. You'll find out about Allen and Andrew this chapter, but I swear I didn't mean to make their names start with A! So…live with it!

Oh, and I have Quidditch Through the Ages, which is where all the random Quidditch trivia came from.

* * *

Luckily, the incident with the Leglimens spell-which caused Severus to give occasional odd looks at Potter at mealtimes, the only part of the day when Aweina saw the two in the same room-was glossed over and forgotten. However, the rumors about what Aweina's scarf hid had gotten more horrific and more ridiculous.

Rather than feeling ashamed about it anymore-Aweina had gotten over that years before, after all-she was annoyed by it now. It had been mildly fun to turn her face towards students who didn't think she could see them and nod at them, but now they stopped in the halls to peer at her, in case her scarf had slipped, and mealtimes were irritating unless Aweina remembered to keep her eyes off the students.

She solved the problem in her classes, at least, by pushing her students hard, so they couldn't concentrate on her face lest they fall behind. Thursday-not the next DA meeting, that was Saturday-rolled around with the third years just before lunch. This lot-Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws-whispered amongst themselves less than other classes, perhaps, but they all peered curiously at her when they thought Aweina wasn't looking.

It was a very sunny day, but Aweina ignored the beauty outside as she called on a student who was staring at her. "Incantations for…Disarming charm, basic Shield Spell, and the Jelly-legs hex," Aweina said, pointing to the student in question, who jumped-Aweina had pointed right at her without turning her head.

She rattled off the three with barely any thought, though, and Aweina nodded in approval, awarding her house-Hufflepuff-with two points. She was about to call on another student when she cut off mid-word to swivel both eyes outside.

There was a flying class out there-first years, by the look of them, but one of them was rising off the ground to shouts from Madam Hooch. Aweina rushed to the window, and it became plain the broom was out of control-

"Accio broom!" she shouted, whirling her wand to point into her office. Her Cleansweep shot towards her, and Aweina leapt on without apparently looking at it as she flung open the windows. Tucking her wand inside her robes, Aweina shot from the class-the students, by then, had come to the windows as well-and aimed her broom towards the wayward student, who was yelling in fright and barely holding onto his own broom.

The boy was very high off the ground, and the broom suddenly accelerated as one of his feet inadvertently kicked it forward. Aweina bent low over her own broom, a slight remembered thrill of being one of the Ravenclaw Chasers shooting through her, replaced quickly by the intense concentration aerial dueling had always instilled.

She swerved to avoid an owl and streaked closer to the student-

Who slipped from his broom.

Without hesitation, Aweina shot into a dive, reacting with vaguely-remembered Quidditch strategies and more recent Auror training upon seeing a falling person. She flew towards the ground, calculating the angle-

And she caught him as he landed in front of her on her broom. The boy whimpered in pain-he had hit Aweina's broom with his legs open-but Aweina wrapped an arm around him and pulled out of the dive.

She landed heavier than usual and let the first-year fall gently to the ground. Taking her wand, Aweina pointed at the wayward broomstick and Summoned it back.

"Thank you, Aweina," said Madam Hooch as she rushed to the boy.

"No problem," replied Aweina vaguely, turning and kicking off the ground again.

She flew in through her window, and the Defense class resumed as soon as she landed near her desk.

Class continued, and the rest of the day-and the week-passed with no further incident. Aweina began to look forward to the DA meeting on Saturday-there were no further incidents, and while that was good, the constant peering at her got on her nerves.

Saturday morning rolled around, and Aweina strolled onto the front lawn with her broom over her shoulder after breakfast, whistling tunelessly and not caring. There were a few students out already, most of them already on their brooms. Aweina nodded to herself in satisfaction and mounted her own broom, kicking off from the ground. Rising, she soared a few feet above the students and, sticking her fingers in her mouth, whistled piercingly.

She did a head count, and found everyone there. "We will drill for a while in air-dodges," Aweina announced when their attention was on her, "Then you'll have to use them while I cast spells at you. No hexes, yet-we're going to be cautious about this-but your robes will turn yellow if you don't dodge."

That said, Aweina guided the students into a line and had them fly in a long oval beneath her. At odd intervals, she shouted, "Roll left!" or "Roll right!" or "Sharp turn left!" and so on, keeping a careful eye on their skills. Predictably, it was the Quidditch players who were the best at these maneuvers, though all of them could at least sit on a broom.

_Well, they'll only really learn by _doing,Aweina thought, and shouted for them to break formation and dodge her spells.

She cast in random directions, over her shoulder sometimes, or above her and below. For a while, Aweina noted that some of the students were clearly thrown when she didn't turn her head to them to cast the spell, earning yellow splatters on their robes. Gradually, they became faster, and a few still had mostly black robes-Harry and Ginny Weasley among them-but others were nearly _entirely_ yellow.

Then Aweina divided the groups into teams, removing the splatters with a wave of her wand, and told them to act in groups. Yet again, the Quidditch players were best at this-notably the ones who were Chasers, since they most often acted in concert, whereas Seekers and Beaters were usually independent. By this time, every student was able to block the minor spells Aweina allowed them to cast, and dodge them if they couldn't get their wands up in time. There were a few dropped wands, but over the course of the morning, the students grew better in keeping hold of them as well.

Aweina let them go at noon, satisfied-she would have gone on training them, but she was hungry, and she had an Order meeting this afternoon.

The Auror's pride in her students lasted through lunch, and she went up to Dumbledore's office-where she would Floo to Grimmauld Place-whistling again, cheerfully mangling a Weird Sisters hit.

"Ice Mice!" she proclaimed at Dumbledore's gargoyle, and stepped onto the staircase.

Minutes later, she stepped out of the fireplace in Grimmauld Place's parlor, brushing the soot from her robes and face. Swiveling an eye around, she spotted Remus, Minerva, and Alastor already in the kitchen. Switching to a hum as tuneless as the whistle, Aweina strolled into the room.

Alastor had apparently spotted her arrival, since he had just poured her a cup of tea. Removing the Itching Jinx from the handle absentmindedly and adding two sugars, Aweina sat down. "What's on the agenda today?" she said, lifting the cup to her lips and sipping.

"Potter's training, Fudge, and an outbreak of Muggle killings in Scotland," said Remus, tiredly. Aweina scanned her fellow Order member carefully-he looked even wearier than usual-then she remembered. "Full moon was a few days ago, wasn't it?" she said, sympathetically. Remus nodded. "Drink tea," advised Aweina, taking another sip from her own, "And eat chocolate!"

Remus smiled at her as Dumbledore, Severus, Mrs. Weasley, and Bill Weasley stepped into the room. "The twins couldn't make it today," said Bill, taking a seat with a sigh and Summoning himself a teacup, "They're apparently on a breakthrough, or something."

Mrs. Weasley sniffed disapprovingly, but didn't comment as Bill passed her a cup. "Arthur's still trying to clear up that mess about those enchanted Muggle post supplies," she said.

"What's this?" said Tonks, who-for once-had not made much noise coming in. "Enchanted post supplies?"

"Apparently the envelopes are attacking people's faces and the stamps are being rude," said Molly, after a sip of tea.

Albus cleared his throat. "Everyone is here who could make it today," he said, "For those who have not heard, we will be discussing Harry's training, Minister Fudge, and the recent outbreak of Muggle killings in Scotland. I would like to start with Harry."

The Order looked at Aweina, who coughed uncomfortably. "Ah-I was giving him some training in dueling the other day, one-on-one, and he caught me with a Leglimens," she said, covering her slight discomfort with a sip of tea.

Those who had not already heard of this had various reactions-Bill choked on his tea, Molly sat straight up, and Alastor, Remus, and Tonks said "_What?_" in exactly the same tone.

"He caught me with a Leglimens," repeated Aweina. "I-well-it's hard to explain."

"Which is why I brought a Pensieve," said Albus, lifting the silver basin Aweina hadn't noticed until now-perhaps her eyes had been focused through it. "Aweina, would you kindly remove the relevant memories and place them here so we can more accurately judge his strength?"

"Certainly," said Aweina, taking her wand from her robes, "I'll add the DA meetings, including the one from this morning, one or two classes, and…um…"

"If you would add the one-on-one lesson where Potter caught you with a Leglimens, it would be helpful," said Albus, mildly. Aweina hesitated.

"I…the memories he brought forward…" she said, haltingly, "There isn't anything…it's battles, mostly, but-"

Aweina cut herself off and reached up to touch her scarf, absentmindedly. Taking a sip of tea, she tried again. "I relived the battle when I lost my eyes," she said, keeping her face turned towards the table, "I don't mind Alastor-he was _there-_but…"

"Aweina," said Alastor, gently. "We have to know his strength. It could be vital to-"

Aweina sighed as her mentor trailed off. "I know, I know," she muttered, "I'd rather not, but it's not as if it makes any difference…Albus, pass the Pensieve."

Drawing her wand, Aweina summoned up the memory of the first DA meeting and drew it from her mind, setting the strand into the bowl. Next came the other DA meetings, that morning's DA meeting on the brooms, a Defense class or two where Harry had been involved in the practical side of Aweina's teaching…and at last, the entire one-on-one lesson. Aweina let it drop into the small pool of silver in the bottom of the bowl, and put away her wand. She reached her hand over the bowl, and the other wizards and witches took it as their cue to reach with her, so they would land in the same memory at the same time-

Aweina hooked her fingers through as many others as she could reach, and brought her hand down.

They were in the memory of the first DA meeting. Aweina watched herself, with a slight feeling of disorientation, as she gave directions and climbed onto the table, starting play with a whistle.

The Order stood close together, save Severus, who was off a little on one side, and watched. The Aweina in the memory gathered the players up and sent them off to formulate strategies…

Dimly, Aweina became aware of a conversation behind her. Tonks and Bill were whispering together conspiratorially, and as Aweina rolled an eye back to look at them, Tonks said, "Two Galleons on Harry's team winning."

"You lose, Tonks," said Aweina, startling the younger Auror, "Though they did come damn close."

Soon enough, the memory was over-a chuckling Bill accepted two Galleons from a grumbling Tonks-and the surroundings shifted.

It was the meeting from that morning, so the other wizards looked up, straining to see the figures on the broomsticks. "Potter's on my right," said Aweina, focusing her left eye upwards, "By Ron."

The Order members watched Potter again, muttering amongst themselves. Aweina ignored them, wishing vaguely she'd brought a book to read-traveling in her own memories was, for the most part, rather boring.

The two Defense class memories passed without incident or particular comment, though both Remus and Alastor shot approving looks at Aweina, and Tonks said she would have been glad to have Aweina as a teacher herself. While Aweina flushed slightly in embarrassment and pleasure, the scene changed again-

To the DA meeting with the boggart. This elicited fierce whispering among Remus, Molly, and Minerva, which Aweina ignored, watching her students again.

She noted with some pride that her Patronus had been quite strong, executed flawlessly. Aweina watched as the dementor fell back, and-

Suddenly, it changed, as the students laughed at its new sequined robe, and turned into Alastor's mangled body. Aweina bit her lip sharply and looked at her mentor, who was regarding his own corpse with slight bemusement. It changed again, though, and with a whip-crack…

The Death Eater rose in front of her past self, and Aweina flinched at the memory's expression-terror mingled with nearly incandescent anger.

The memory changed again, and as the rest of the Order went closer to the DA to listen to what the past Aweina was saying, Alastor limped over to the other one. "That was different," her mentor said, mildly, "Isn't it normally Lucy who appears first?"

Aweina snorted in spite of herself-the comment was so purely ridiculous, she couldn't help beginning to chuckle. "That was before the Triwizard Tournament," she said, sobering slightly, "In training, I feared for my teammates, but since then…you've been there as well."

She didn't need to voice the thought that it had been hard to learn, absurd as it was, that Alastor was human and could be defeated, which, though she had known it intellectually, had been somehow hard for Aweina to accept.

Aweina brought her mind deliberately away from the topic as the scene changed again-to the one-on-one training session.

Strangely enough, it was _amusing_ to see herself diving behind objects and demonstrating rolls-Aweina winced in sympathy as her past-self crashed into a desk and rubbed her hip surreptitiously-the bruise hadn't gone away yet. As she executed a perfect dive, only to hit her head on the blackboard as she came up, Aweina became aware of snickers behind her-mostly from Bill and Tonks, though Remus _definitely _looked on the verge of laughter.

"I'm glad I'm entertaining you," she said, dryly, to the chucklers, and turned to Alastor. "And I don't understand how you kept from laughing while you were training us," she added, as an afterthought, "Remember the time Wesley went through one of those barriers you put up?"

Alastor laughed at the memory. "I remember that," he said, grinning, "And Kali's triple somersault when she tripped over the dummy was impressive."

"I'd forgotten about that," mused Aweina.

The reminiscing was brought to a close, however, as Harry and Aweina began exchanging spells. Aweina tensed in anticipation as Harry aimed another spell, as her past-self dodged out, and suddenly-

"_Leglimens!"_ cried Harry, and immediately, the memories began flickering.

Aweina was astonished by the clarity-she had been through only one set of Pensieve memories involving a Leglimens before, and the memories in the memory had been weak, memories within memories, but these were bright and vivid-

Her group darted around an arena as Alastor fired hexes. It flicked to a battle on brooms, but the Order was on the ground-no, she was running through the halls to the library-

_Was I ever that short?_ Aweina thought, distractedly ignoring the fact that she was _still_ that short-

Another battle, grimmer than the first, and another as the Order stood in a Muggle city as wizards swooped overhead on brooms-

Then the one Aweina had been dreading. Watching, holding her breath, Aweina looked at herself as the Death Eater rose in front of her-

Aweina heard herself begin to scream as the first curse hit her, and it was no wonder that teachers and students had come running-the scream was loud and filled with pain and anguish-

As her past-self went down, Aweina watched dazedly as the past-Alastor whirled and blasted the Death Eater that had hurt her, watched as her mentor looked down at her and his face turned furious, watched as he fought four Dark wizards at once-

And the Leglimens ended abruptly, and they were back in the classroom. Aweina watched herself fall to her knees, then sit down slowly as Harry came timidly forward. Gradually, she became aware that the Order wasn't paying attention anymore, watching her instead-

She reached a hand out, and the other wizards took hold of it. Mentally preparing herself, Aweina wrenched them out of the memory-

And they were back around the kitchen table, most of them blinking with the disorientation traveling through a Pensieve always brought. Aweina reached into the basin with her wand and brought the memories out, allowing the silver strands to settle back into her head.

The clock struck-and to her surprise, it was five-thirty in the evening. "We were in there a long time," Aweina said, breaking the silence.

Nods all around. They had indeed been in the Pensieve for a long time.

The awkward silence continued, with the other wizards glancing at Aweina, then away, until Aweina remembered something and leapt to her feet, glad for the excuse to get away. "Oh, Merlin, I promised my mother I'd go out to dinner with her tonight!" she yelped, looking around the room. "Er…can one of you take notes, or something?" she added, sheepishly, picking up a piece of kindling from the box by the stove.

"I'll take them," said Remus, conjuring up a piece of paper and a quill, "Don't keep your mother waiting."

"Thank you!" replied Aweina, and darted out of the room, heading towards the dining room. Pausing only to take some Floo powder, Aweina called, "Defense Against the Dark Arts office!" and leapt into the flames.

Stepping out of the fire on the other side, Aweina pulled out her wand and tapped the piece of kindling. It turned into a long, white cane-such as blind Muggles used.

_That was awkward,_ thought Aweina, recalling the meeting, _But I really _am_ late._

Hurrying into her room, Aweina doffed her robes and pulled on some Muggle ones-jeans, a t-shirt, and a light coat. Thanks to Lucy, the clothes were "the height of Muggle fashion!" as she called it, and Aweina needed only to brush the soot off herself and slip her wand into an inside pocket of the coat to look like an ordinary Muggle woman.

Returning to her office, Aweina picked up the cane and slid the loop of cord around her wrist. Checking herself in the mirror absently, Aweina straightened her scarf-blue, today-and left the room.

Walking down to the gates took only ten minutes, today, and as soon as she had stepped off Hogwarts grounds, Aweina Apparated to the Muggle side of the Leaky Cauldron.

Immediately, Aweina fell into her blind Muggle act. Several weeks after she had gained her new eyes-and shortly after she had started using a scarf-Paul had suggested Aweina observe blind Muggles in case she ever had to go undercover. Aweina had followed his suggestion, since she had still been on the wounded list and wouldn't be able to go back on duty for some time, not to mention that she couldn't read for long periods of time and she had been _bored._

She had observed that blind Muggles used two main methods to find their ways around-white canes that they constantly swept the ground before them with, and dogs in a special harness. Aweina didn't like dogs, particularly-she couldn't stand the way they constantly licked hands and faces, and much preferred cats-so she used a white cane whenever she had to venture into the Muggle world.

Aweina spotted her mother standing at the end of the block, and began sweeping the cane in front of her, walking slowly towards her mother. At last, Riana Aquila turned and saw her daughter. Aweina's mother called her name and came towards her, smiling.

Aweina smiled back at her mother, and clasped the other woman's hands in her own-Aweina's strong fingers contrasting with her mother's slender, almost frail ones. Instead of the wedding ring on her left hand, Riana bore a gold band with a black stone-the custom of the Aquila women when they lost a husband. Aweina's father had died of a heart attack several years before, but Riana lived on in the Aquila manor, along with several of Aweina's cousins, her brother, and several nieces and nephews.

"It's wonderful to see you," said Riana, warmly, and Aweina smiled in pleasure.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she apologized, "I got held up a bit."

"It's fine," said Riana, taking Aweina's free hand and placing it on her right forearm as if escorting her-for the benefit of a few watching Muggles-and began to "guide" Aweina forward.

"Where are we going?" said Aweina, sweeping her cane over the ground.

"It's a relatively new place," said Riana, "Apparently, it's a Chinese restaurant."

"Lucy was going on about all the Chinese restaurants in America in her last letter," said Aweina, musingly, "She's in…Washington State now, I think, but she'll be back for Christmas."

Riana nodded and turned a corner, walking down another street. "It isn't far," she reassured, "Your brother was taken to lunch there by one of his Muggle friends, and he highly recommended it. And best of all, it isn't too far from the pub."

By "the pub," Riana of course meant the Leaky Cauldron. Aweina nodded. "It sounds good," she said, "Lucy dragged me to a Chinese place once, last time I was in America."

"When were you in America?" queried Riana, casting Aweina a quizzical look.

"Four years ago, actually," said Aweina, "New York City. Lucy, Paul, and I were…er…on the trail of someone. Turned out he was hiding in New Jersey, but it was quite a good restaurant. Though the border situation did get a little sticky."

"Here we are," said Riana, foregoing any comment on Aweina's job and opening the door for her daughter. Immediately, a smiling waitress stepped up to them. "Table?" she said, politely.

"For two," said Riana, and the waitress took a menu, hesitated, and then took another menu. Turning, the woman led Riana and Aweina down the bar, around a corner, and to a table by the window. Aweina slid in and propped up her cane beside her, and the waitress shoved one of the menus into her hands.

_I really hate it when they assume I need things put into my hands,_ thought Aweina, with a purely internal sigh as she nodded politely in the waitress's general direction and opened the menu, _At least I didn't get a papercut this time. Oh, lucky me, Braille._

"Lovely to see that this place has Braille," said Riana, cheerfully, "And it's new, too! Rather unusual, actually, isn't it?"

Aweina sighed out loud this time, with irritation as she placed a finger on the menu and began to run over it. "Kindly flip your menu and read the drinks list," she said, patiently, to her mother.

Riana obliged good-naturedly, and Aweina focused an eye through the Braille menu to read her mother's. "Tea, I think," she said, scanning the entrees, "For drinks, that is. Uh…spring rolls sound good…"

"Rice, of course," said Aweina's mother, still scanning the back of the menu.

"I think I'll have the sweet and sour chicken," said Aweina, stopping her finger on the menu and folding it. Riana flipped her menu back over and read over it.

"Stir fry and Mongolian beef sound good," she said, thoughtfully. "I'll get both. We can split the stir fry."

Aweina noted-with slight amusement mingled with exasperation-that the waitress was watching them. More specifically, Aweina. Aweina raised her hand and waved it, turning her face towards the waitress-making the woman jump.

They placed their orders, and the tea arrived quickly. Aweina just barely remembered to put on her act as the waitress carried the pot towards them, running her hands lightly over the table, hitting the sugar and salt, making sure she knew which one was salt and which pepper, and so on. The waitress shoved the cup into Aweina's hands, presumably so the "blind woman" wouldn't have to feel for it, but Aweina hadn't been expecting it and nearly dropped it.

With another internal sigh, Aweina motioned for her mother to pour the tea.

The meal was excellent, and Aweina ignored the waitress's slightly patronizing tone as she asked whether she wanted a fork, but took almost vindictive pleasure in taking a pair of chopsticks and clicking them together. Lucy had been astonished at how quickly Aweina had picked up the chopsticks in America, and Aweina still didn't know why she had been able to use them with little effort, but nevertheless, it worked for her.

Luckily enough, the restaurant became rather busy, so Aweina and her mother could chat-and eat-without being watched by the waitress, who now had other customers to attend to. "How's the new job, by the way?" said Riana, waving her fork absently.

Aweina swallowed her bite of rice and nodded. "It's quite a lot of fun, teaching," she said, "I'm drawing on my job training for the practical side-and I do a lot of practical, since I can't write on the board for long." Riana nodded sympathetically. "Mostly, I write down spell names or incantations, and have them come up and write it themselves. I tend to limit it to the first ten minutes of class, then practical, unless I have a lecture to give."

"Are you going to give them the 'dangers-of-being-an-Auror' speech?" said Riana, thoughtfully, "You know, the one Alastor spouts off to the new trainees each year?"

Aweina remembered her first day well…apprehensive, knowing that barely half the students ever got through training…and then Alastor had come through the door and rattled off the speech to the new ones, long before they had ever come close to training groups. It had frightened Aweina, but stiffened her resolve at the same time…though she had noticed at the next drill several faces had been missing, and had never returned.

"That may be a good idea," Aweina answered, slowly, "I'll probably revise it, though…tone it down a little, and I may only give it to the special group." Aweina turned her face up towards her mother. "You know, the one Fudge made a big stink about last year."

Riana made a face. Aweina's eldest brother, Allen-who lived at the Aquila manor with his mother and several other relatives-worked in the Ministry, heading the Accidental Magical Reversal Squads, of which the number was always changing. He was several steps below the Minister, but Allen preferred to keep his station quiet, going out with his squad-officially called First Squad, but nicknamed Al's Ducks for some reason-whenever possible, rather than throwing his rank about. His stories of the amusing predicaments wizards found themselves in were the highlight of family parties.

Allen had been present when Fudge came back raging about Dumbledore-the Minister had called a meeting soon after Albus had left Hogwarts, and Allen, the highest ranked in his department, had attended and witnessed the Minister's rage.

"More tea?" said the waitress, appearing at their table. Aweina checked the level inside their pot without thinking and said, "Yes, it's almost empty."

The waitress gave Aweina an odd look, but took the pot anyway. "Enough about me," said Aweina, "How's the family?"

"Allen's good, but busy," said Riana, "Oh, yes! Andrew's visiting!" She named Aweina's youngest brother. "So are Violet and Lucia," Riana added, also naming Andrew's wife and daughter. "She was eight months old yesterday."

Aweina smiled at the thought of her youngest niece-Lucia was absolutely _adorable_ right now, and was sure to turn into a beauty when she grew up, with Andrew's deep hazel eyes and Violet's luxuriant dark hair. She was showing magical tendencies early, as well-Andrew had been indecently proud of his first child when she had turned some of his hair bright green, contrasting dreadfully with her father's light brown hair. Andrew had worn the green proudly for weeks, until Violet-exasperated with her husband-had insisted he get a haircut.

"I'll have to drop by sometime and visit!" Aweina said, affection in her voice. "How's Evan?"

That was Allen's oldest child, a five-year old boy. "He's gone Quidditch-mad," said Riana, "He insists on riding his toy broomstick all around the house, and can't decide which team he likes best-the Kenmare Kestrels, or the Montrose Magpies."

"I'm a Puddlemere United fan, myself," said Aweina, shaking her head slightly in amusement, "Why don't you steer him towards the oldest team in the league?"

Riana fixed Aweina with a wry glare. "What Auror _isn't_ a fan of Puddlemere United?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I can't _imagine_ what you mean, Mother," said Aweina, innocently, "Just because we go around singing, 'Beat Back those Bludgers, Boys-'"

Riana prodded her daughter with a chopstick before Aweina could finish, and both burst out laughing at the looks on one another's faces.

The rest of the dinner was spent swapping stories-Aweina related the broomstick incident with the first year boy, and Riana, not to be outdone, rattled off the recent exploits of Aweina's youngest cousin, four years out of Hogwarts and now working in Zonko's as a product tester-resulting in dozens of amusing incidents. Aweina laughed hopelessly at the account of her cousin running afoul of an enchanted Sugar Quill and sprouting goat horns, not to mention a duck's beak, a lizard's tail, and pig ears.

Most parts had worn off in a few minutes, but the duck's bill had stayed for hours, causing every word to come out in a quack.

The fortune cookies came at last, along with the bill. Riana picked up the check as Aweina took a cookie, breaking it open and, remembering her disguise, setting the fortune down. Her mother read her own fortune first. "You love Chinese food."

Aweina snorted. "What kind of fortune is that? Though judging by the way you devoured that meal…"

Riana smiled and picked up Aweina's fortune. "Winter brings many surprises," she said, looking over the slip of paper. Aweina nodded.

"Hopefully Lucy will get back from America for Christmas," she said, with a smile, "Or my group will be one short for our party."

Riana nodded and left exact change in Muggle money. "Well, I'm off home," she said, leading Aweina from the restaurant and giving her a hug, "We're starting Christmas preparations already!"

"Love you, Mother," said Aweina, returning the hug. Riana smiled at her daughter a last time, stepped into an alleyway, and Disapparated.

Aweina turned and began sweeping the cane across the sidewalk. Finding an alleyway for herself, she stepped in, checked for Muggles, and left for Hogsmeade.

* * *

Uber-long chapter! It was fun to write, hope you enjoyed! Now…reward all my hard work with reviews! -grin-

Fireblade K'Chona


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** Kindly note the name of the website. Thank you. Now, all I own here is Aweina and the plot. Oh yeah, also Aweina's training group and Persephone!

**Muse responsible:** Rrissa!

_Aweina's thoughts_ and "-0o0-"will denote the beginning and end of a dream or flashback. Oh, and the letter being read aloud is in italics too.

Clarification for something you'll find out later: Remus and Aweina are _not_ together. They knew each other at school, were assigned partners on a project or two, helped each other study for tests, that sort of thing. They were friends at Hogwarts, and it's lasted, but that's all that's there. Sorry for those of you who were hoping for a torrid romance. :P

* * *

Sunday and Monday passed quietly, and soon enough, the week rolled around to Tuesday yet again. Aweina walked up and down the width of the classroom, passing periodically in front of her desk, lecturing on some of the nastier defensive curses-ones that did not only block and neutralize, but turned back the spell, sometimes adding unexpected, nasty side effects. Sporadically, she stopped to call on a student, asking questions on previous lessons.

Aweina had just turned to the board to write an incantation, intending to quiz another student, when a gray owl swooped into the classroom through the last still-open window as the days grew colder. Said owl flew across the classroom, dropped a letter on Aweina-she caught it-and glided out the window again. Aweina stared at the letter and after the owl for a moment, nonplussed.

Turning both eyes to the letter, Aweina looked at the seal-an official one in blue wax…the Ministry seal.

_Um…maybe it's Allen,_ she thought, slowly opening the letter, _He…has an odd sense of humor…_

Still, there was a worm of dread that had suddenly writhed to life in her stomach, causing Aweina to bite her lip nervously.

As she scanned the note's first few lines, the chalk fell forgotten from her hand, shattering on the stone floor. Aweina gasped in shock and staggered-the words alone were like a physical blow from someone the size of Hagrid. Catching herself heavily on the desk, Aweina dropped the letter, but her eyes followed it…

Hermione and Ron had leapt to their feet the moment she had staggered. Aweina drew a ragged breath, trying to keep it from sounding like a sob and failing. Hermione picked up the letter, and Ron stood uncertainly, staring at Aweina.

"Read-read it," Aweina whispered, biting back a sob. Apprehensively, Hermione began to read.

"_To Professor Aweina Aquila,_

_We of the Ministry regret to inform you that the Dark Mark has been found hovering over your home, Aquila Manor._" Hermione stopped dead in horror, as the class gasped collectively. Aweina motioned curtly for Hermione to continue and almost staggered again as her hand left the desk. She returned it, turning her face to stare at her fingers, white-knuckled as she gripped the edge of the wood like a lifeline. _"Though it has been years, we…regret to say that the meaning has not changed,"_ continued Hermione, her voice trembling.

"Among the dead are your mother, Riana Aquila, your brother, Andrew Aquila, your nephew, Evan Aquila, and your niece, Lucia Aquila."

Aweina had only reached her mother's name before she couldn't read anymore, but she released another gasp-close to a sob-at the other three names. Her nails dug into the wood of her desk as she tried to keep from falling over.

"_Please come to your home by Floo as soon as possible," _finished Hermione, falteringly, _"Regretfully yours, the Ministry of Magic."_

Aweina was in shock-though her eyes were whirling, she could barely see, and only her grip on her desk kept her upright. "Mother…Andrew…" she whispered, in a choked voice, "Evan…he was only _five._ He was only five. Why? Lucia…she was a baby. Just eight months…I sang her to sleep when she had a cold this August…"

Aweina was horribly conscious of the stares upon her-the horrified looks on the faces of all her students. She whirled her eyes away, memories twisting through her head as her view of the room spiraled…

_-0o0-_

Aweina, teaching Andrew to ride a broom, though she was barely old enough to use a real broomstick and her little brother could barely hold on to his…

_Playing tag with Evan, chasing him down the halls of Aquila manor…_

_The dinner with Riana, just that weekend, laughing about the Auror's strange collective support of Puddlemere United over tea…_

_Lucia, her newest niece, holding the baby in her arms as Andrew clasped Violet's hand tenderly between his own…_

**And suddenly, unbidden, breaking through the miasma of anguish and memory-**

_Alastor's roar breaking through Aweina and Kali's conversation, making them both jump-"Remember your duty, Aurors!"_

_-0o0-_

Aweina straightened to attention at that remembered shout out of reflex, stiffening her spine with an effort of will. Aweina the woman was put to the side, and Auror Aquila came to the fore. Duty-that was always an Auror's first consideration.

"Class dismissed!" she barked, in a voice that sent the students scrambling to pack their bags, and pulled out her wand. Waving it at the door, she set a complex ward that would seal the room to anyone but her when it was closed. Aweina turned and went into her office, setting another ward on her office door. Pausing, she went into her bedroom, kicked the door mostly shut, and took off the purple scarf she had on. Setting it on the bed, Aweina took a plain black scarf from her bedside table and tied it in place with a few efficient movements. Turning, she set wards on her windows, thanking Alastor silently for her training, and Auror Aquila went back into her office.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in there-as Aweina had half-expected as she warded her personal door. "Take that letter to Dumbledore now," she said, still in her 'orders' voice, "And once all of you are out, shut the door."

"Professor-" began Harry, but fell silent. Aweina turned her face to him, and searched his eyes. Harry's face was troubled, his brow furrowed.

Aweina drew a breath, and said, in a quieter tone, "I…you probably know how much I long to grieve for them. But now, it is duty that matters. Get that letter to Albus, Harry, and whatever you do, do _not_ leave Hogwarts."

Turning smartly, Aweina took a handful of Floo powder and flung it into the fireplace. Stepping in, she shouted, "Aquila Manor!"

Minutes later, Auror Aquila strode out of the fireplace in the front hall, nodding to several Ministry officials. "I am Auror Aweina Aquila," she said, back in her 'orders' tone of voice, "Here to investigate."

To her surprise, Alastor was there, and he limped up towards her. "Let's make sure it's really you," he said, in his growl, "What form does your Patronus take?"

"An eagle," said Aweina, straightening to attention, "And Lucy gave you a singing rubber duck last year for your birthday. A few years ago, Paul and I were having a snowball fight, and you blew them up when we ganged up on you." Alastor nodded, though some of the Ministry members looked startled at the mention of a snowball fight.

"That's her," he said to the Ministry officials, "Let's go."

Remus was there for some reason, along with Kingsley, who _had_ a reason-he was an Auror. So were Paul and Kali-Lucy was still in America, and Wesley was somewhere classified, last Aweina had heard. Obviously, Paul and Kali had dropped whatever they were doing when they had heard to come here. Other Ministry officials were swarming over the castle, and several reporters from the Daily Prophet were there.

"Let's start from the beginning," Aweina heard herself say, and strode out of the hall, into the front courtyard. Stopping-trailing other Aurors-she turned and made herself look up.

Even in the daylight, the Dark Mark hovered above the house, the skull and serpent vivid. Aweina noticed detachedly that the members of her family who lived in the manor were in the front of the house-Violet, Andrew's wife, or rather, widow, was sobbing on Allen's shoulder. Even at this distance, Aweina could see the white knuckles on her brother's hand.

"They hit the nursery," said Kingsley, "Most of your family was out to lunch, but apparently Evan and Lucia had colds, and your mother and Andrew were looking after them."

Aweina's fingers tightened around her wand, and she gave a short nod before striding back into the house. Whirling her eyes around, Aweina demanded, "Why has no one summoned the house-elves?"

Paul turned to look at her. "We're not part of your family, and they're…still in shock," he said, voice distant, and Aweina could tell he was struggling to hold back his own sorrow. She didn't answer, but put her fingers in her mouth and whistled piercingly.

As most of the people in view winced, two house-elves appeared in front of Aweina. The twins, Topsy and Turvy, were young, for house-elves, and had only served for a few years. Their mother, and their ancestors on their mother's side, had served the Aquilas for as long as the records went.

Topsy and Turvy wore matching tea towels wrapped like togas, like many house-elves did, and were indistinguishable from one another unless you either saw them on a daily basis or, like Aweina, knew that Turvy had a burn scar on the top of his right foot, where he had dropped a kettle of boiling water one day.

Both house-elves were distraught, and Topsy seemed on the verge of tears-she was better with children than Turvy, and most often minded them when the adults were busy. Aweina dropped to a knee to get closer to their level, and said, "I need you to help us search the house, top to bottom."

The house-elves nodded, and went to stand by the wizards Aweina indicated; Kingsley had Topsy, and Paul got Turvy. Alastor had been talking to a Ministry official, and broke off the conversation as Aweina turned towards him.

"They thought they should search with us," Moody growled, "I managed to convince them that Aurors would be better able to defend themselves."

Aweina nodded distractedly-it was what she had expected. "I hope they don't mind me taking charge-" she began, but Moody cut her off. "You're an Aquila, the only one in any condition to help. You'll need to do the secret passages."

"You search the third floor with Kali," said Aweina, "I'll…ah."

She had been trained to always search in pairs, but with Paul and Kingsley paired with house-elves, there was no partner left for her.

"I'll do it," said Remus, stepping forward. Aweina nodded. "Very well," she said, Turvy, you and Paul do the fifth floor and towers. Don't even leave a linen closet unsearched. Topsy, I'd like you and Kingsley to do the laundry and first floor. Alastor, Kali, you do the third floor and fourth. Remus and I will get the second floor and passages."

The Aurors, house-elves, and Remus dispersed. The search on the second floor took little time-Aweina combed the place with her eyes, moving from room to room. Remus stayed on guard, keeping close to Aweina.

When the search was finished on the second floor-empty, but for a boggart lurking in a bathroom cabinet; Remus and Aweina dispersed it with only two appearances of the full moon, one of the Death Eater, and one of a dead Lucy. Their battle finished, Aweina glanced at Remus, looked around, and touched a stone in the wall casually.

Part of the wall slid aside, revealing a staircase. Aweina led Remus downstairs, emerging in the kitchen, then through another passage up some stairs, down a portrait gallery, and emerging from a family tree tapestry near the tallest tower. Aweina resolutely kept her eyes away from the names-this tapestry was updated magically, and the deaths of her brother, mother, niece, and nephew would have appeared promptly at the moment of their demise.

It took nearly an hour and a half to comb the castle from top to bottom, for even after Aweina and Remus had emerged, rather dusty, from the passages, Aweina and Alastor teamed to search the fourth floor, fifth floor, and towers again, this time with more than one set of magical eyes.

However, after the search, it was plain that there were no Dark wizards in the castle. As they descended from the tallest tower to the third floor again, Aweina steeled herself for what was to come…for the nursery was on the third floor.

The hall was bristling with Ministry wizards, Order members among them, some of them trying to keep Daily Prophet reporters and photographers back. Aweina managed to push through without being grabbed by a reporter, and entered the nursery.

The bodies had been left where they had been found, though each had been draped with a sheet. Aweina clenched her fists, trying desperately to keep herself under control…

Hammerblow. Her mother was near the crib, sprawled on the floor, arms outstretched-Aweina could see them under the sheet-as if reaching for…

Hammerblow. Baby Lucia was several feet away, position of her body odd, unnatural, as if she had been blasted from Riana's arms…

Another blow, and Aweina was surprised she was not reeling as she looked at her brother in a corner, lying across it as if to guard…

Yet another blow, because Evan was lying curled in the corner, in a tight ball, and for a split second Aweina thought he was just playing hide-and-seek again, trying to fool her with the 'if-I-can't-see-her-she-can't-see-me' gambit, curled tight under a sheet, until she remembered he was dead, would never play hide-and-seek with her again…

Someone grabbed her arm firmly, and steered her out of the room, back into the hall, and now the reporters saw Aweina. "Auror Aquila, do you have any comments-" shouted one of them, holding her quill ready, and a camera flashed, taking a picture, but Aweina couldn't move, couldn't speak-

Alastor bellowed over the din, "Auror Aquila is not commenting at this time!" and escorted her down the hall, guiding her into a mercifully empty sitting room. Dimly, Aweina saw Remus close the door behind them and lock it as Alastor let her down into a chair.

Aweina was…numb, mind still reeling under the blows of seeing her mother-_dinner on Saturday­_-and Andrew-_he had nearly always lost good-naturedly to her in chess-_little Evan-_Quidditch mad at five, she had given him a ride on her broom that summer-_and Lucia, her newest niece, the adorable, chuckling baby-_she had been so light in her aunt's arms just after birth when Andrew proudly told her Lucia's middle name was Aweina…_

"Aweina?" said a gentle voice, in front of her, and Aweina focused an eye on him with difficulty. Remus was there, dropped to a knee in front of her chair, but it was hard to see him-

_I don't care,_ she decided, and tore the scarf from her head, letting it fall carelessly to the ground. Remus came into view more easily now; Aweina had found over the years it grew difficult to focus through objects when she was upset, possibly because she couldn't shed tears, or possibly not.

"They-oh, please, _why?_" Aweina pleaded, voice wavering on the very edge of control, begging Remus for an answer. Why was her beloved mother dead? Why had her brother and nephew and niece been murdered? Why would anyone kill a baby, why would they ever kill Lucia? _Why?_

Remus bit his lip unhappily, as Aweina remembered he did when he was thinking-_Funny, it seems like yesterday he was helping me study for that Care of Magical Creatures test in the library,_ she thought out of nowhere, but her mind whirled away from the flash of memory.

"I don't know," said Remus, quietly, "I don't know why anyone would do such a thing." Rolling an eye to the side, Aweina saw Alastor nod slowly, and knew he was seeing others in place of her family, knew both of them saw loved ones in the places her kin were in now-

Before she knew it, Aweina had slid to the floor on her knees with a thud, and had fallen forwards, only to be caught by Remus. Aweina clutched the front of his robes and buried her face in his shoulder, her control shattering as she broke into desperate sobs.

She noticed dimly that Alastor had taken the seat Aweina had so recently vacated, and was resting a hand on her right shoulder, registered numbly that Remus had gently put his arms around her. At this point, Aweina probably would have cried on _Severus's_ shoulder, had he offered-which he wouldn't have-she was so afraid and grieving, not to mention as tense as a harpstring on the breaking point.

Aweina didn't know how long she wept, only conscious that she couldn't take the pain riding on her shoulders, and that crying might siphon off a little. Neither Remus nor Alastor said anything, but Remus remained still, his arms loosely around her, and Alastor's hand was comfortingly heavy on Aweina's shoulder.

After a long while-half an hour? Two hours? Aweina had no notion of time anymore-she felt the sobs lessen, felt some of the strain leave her. Even after she quieted, the Auror remained on Remus' shoulder for a while, waiting until she could shoulder the burden again.

After a time, she straightened slowly, sinking back onto her own knees, which were numb by now, and released Remus' robes. Reaching into her robes, Aweina found her handkerchief and blew her nose. Detachedly, she noticed that Remus' robes weren't even wet-but of course, her tear ducts were years gone and she could shed no tears. Tucking the handkerchief away, Aweina picked up the scarf and knotted it around her head again.

She rose and straightened her robes, taking her wand in hand again. "Let us investigate," she said, voice steady.

Aweina's emotions had frozen, the storm of grief calmed for now. She was not calm, per se, but rather on the other side of calm…she seemed to be floating loosely, detached from everything around her. She glided down the hall, wand in hand, and swept back into the room, the image of control-though the Auror was extremely glad they had left the sheets over the bodies of her family.

She swept her eyes over the room dispassionately, doing her best to remain aloof. Aweina considered the positioning of the bodies, and when she spoke, it was as though her voice was coming from a long way away. "From the layout of the…the bodies," she said, "It appears the attacker stood there." Aweina pointed to a spot about halfway between the window and the hearth, in front of a tapestry of a unicorn. "It looks like my…my mother, Riana, tried to take the baby and run, but first Lucia, then Riana, were murdered." Aweina pointed at Riana and Lucia, respectively. "Meanwhile, Andrew and Evan backed into that corner, and…"

Aweina's voice trailed away. Alastor's natural eye narrowed, and the other Aurors looked thoughtful. "Are there secret passages in this room?" said Kingsley, in his low voice.

"Just one," said Aweina, promptly, and pointed across the room from where the attacker had been standing-too far away from Andrew and Evan for them to run for it, and Riana had obviously been making for the door.

The noise outside the room pressed in on Aweina's ears as she glanced through the wall. The Ministry officials, by now looking rather harried, were _still_ keeping back the press of reporters. "Anything?" said Aweina to Paul, who had been searching the room very carefully.

He shook his head wearily. "I talked to some of the Ministry officials earlier," he said, "They found nothing. Neither did your family. And I'm assuming you didn't see anything, or you wouldn't have asked."

Aweina rubbed her temples. What she really wanted-well, other than her family back-was a stiff drink and some sleep. "We can't track if there's no bloody trail to follow," she said, bluntly, "I…I'm not going to be of anymore help. I'm going to the Wands."

With that, Aweina Disapparated, appearing in the pub she had named.

The Crossed Wands was north of the Leaky Cauldron, though still in London. For some reason, it was frequented by Aurors in particular, though other Ministry wizards visited it as well. Every Auror had been here, though, and it was the traditional celebration spot for the ones stationed in England.

_Perhaps it's like our support of Puddlemere United,_ thought Aweina as she mused. _No one knows quite why, but it's a tradition…_

Aweina was well aware that her thinking was rather sub-par at the moment-the internal rambling about the Crossed Wands and Puddlemere United made that clear. She was also aware that this was a rather normal reaction-shock, delayed by instant action and the distraction of duty, was now settling in.

The Auror rather welcomed the numbing feeling as she walked slowly to the bar and sat down. The bartender, a tall witch called Macy who was good at keeping secrets, listening, and knowing when to keep the drinks coming, instantly recognized the look on Aweina's face.

Aweina had been in here before, occasionally with the woebegone, shell-shocked look upon her face that was there now, but far more usually with a cheerful expression. Macy took one look at the Auror and poured her a glass of firewhiskey.

Aweina stared at it. "You'll hear about it in the news," she mumbled, "The Dark Mark…the Dark Mark reappeared over my home."

Macy dropped the flask she had been holding, and it shattered. The bartender stared at Aweina in horror, grabbing the bar to steady herself. "Merlin…" she breathed, "Who…"

Aweina tossed back the firewhiskey without noticing and set it down. Macy refilled it with shaking hands. "Mother. Drew. My nephew Evan. My niece Lucia."

Macy's knuckles were white on the bottle of firewhiskey. Aweina had known the woman for a whileat Hogwarts; Macy had been in third year Aweina's first year, though she had been in Hufflepuff to Aweina's Ravenclaw. "Merlin," she whispered again, supporting herself on the bar. Aweina tossed back the second glass of firewhiskey, mostly to give herself something to do other than talk to the bartender.

Mercifully, Macy stopped talking after a few more questions-the bartender could clearly see that Aweina was in no mood or condition to answer. She simply kept the drinks coming, quietly refilling Aweina's glass down at the end of the bar whenever she noticed it was empty.

Aweina stared at the fourth glass-or was it the fifth?-morosely. The alcohol had dimmed the memories, thank Merlin, shock had fully settled in, and didn't seem like it was about to move much.

_Didn't I order a butterbeer?_ she thought, after a few minutes, _It's what I always get…_

Aweina became more aware that her thinking was even _more_ sub-par than it had been when she had walked into the Wands, thanks to the shock, which would have been enough, and the alcohol. Firewhiskey was strong stuff, and Aweina had drunk rather a lot…

But she didn't feel like moving. Didn't feel like…anything.

Aweina didn't know how long she sat there, head in her hands, occasionally sipping the firewhiskey, but as her eyes lazily whirled, she became aware that Paul had walked into the door, followed by Remus and, strangely enough, Albus Dumbledore. Paul pointed her out, after he had scanned the bar-Aweina was down at one end, slumped over her drink.

Paul sat down beside her. "Oh, Aweina," he said, picking up the glass of firewhiskey and sniffing it to confirm what it was, "You didn't."

"That's only her fourth," said Macy, coming down the bar, "She hasn't touched it for nearly half an hour, though. And I don't think she's in a mood to repeat…the Incident."

Even through her shock and alcohol-fogged brain, Aweina winced. "I thought we'wer never going t'talk about that again," she said, trying not to slur her words and succeeding, somewhat.

Remus raised an eyebrow behind Aweina. "The what?" he said, obviously confused.

Before Paul could open his mouth, Aweina punched him in the arm, not able to make it as hard as she'd intended. "Don't ask," Paul said, hastily, "Just don't."

"B'sides, it was six glasses, tha'time," muttered Aweina, fumbling a hand into her pocket and pulling out a Galleon. She dropped it on the bar. "Take it 'way, Macy."

Paul silently handed her a flask. Aweina took it, sniffed it, and winced-this was the sharp, astringent potion Aurors used when they needed to sober up quickly. With a sigh, she took a sip-not enough to entirely unfog her mind, but enough to clear her speech and enable her to move right again.

She turned slowly on the barstool. "Have I mentioned I despise that stuff?" she said, trying to keep her tone light and failing, for the most part.

"Several times," said Paul, and helped her up. Aweina swatted him away, and as he flinched, wished she hadn't.

_I'm going to start bawling again in a minute-_ she thought, as she crumpled back onto the stool, _Oh, Merlin, please-_

The men waited politely as Aweina fought with her emotions, at last bringing them under tenuous control. "I've canceled your classes for tomorrow," said Albus, gently, "The memorial is next afternoon. You've missed dinner, but I taught the rest of your classes in the room across the hall. I must say, you've brought them along further than I'd expected in just three months."

Aweina nodded wearily, knowing she should acknowledge this somehow. "'nks," she said, in a barely audible tone of voice.

"I'm going to send you back to my office," said Dumbledore, rummaging in his pockets and pulling out a crumpled ball of paper-Aweina dimly saw that it was the letter that had been sent to her that very day-and tapping it with his wand. He handed the paper to her. "Go see Poppy when you get there."

Aweina held on, felt the familiar jerk of a Portkey, and raised a hand slightly in farewell to Remus and Paul.

She reappeared in Dumbledore's office, as he had said, and stuffed the paper in her own pocket. Walking down the moving staircase and through the halls, Aweina numbly followed the order to see Madam Pomfrey, ending up at the hospital wing.

Aweina entered slowly, and looked around for the nurse. It didn't take long-the woman was bending over someone in a bed to the right, with twigs growing out of his ears. After a few moments, Poppy stood up and turned around. "Yes?" she said, absently, straightening her robes before taking a good look at Professor Aquila. "Oh, my."

Aweina leaned heavily against the wall, rubbing one of her temples through her scarf. "Do you have something to help me sleep without dreams?" she said, in a barely audible tone of voice.

Within moments, Madam Pomfrey had given her a flask and a tumbler, with strict instructions to drink a half-cup of it every night before bed for a full week and a half. Before she knew it, Aweina was standing in front of her own door again.

Pulling out her wand, Aweina silently thanked Alastor for putting her through training so grueling she could ward and unward a door even an inch from total collapse, before she drank some potion and fell into bed.

Sleep was not long in coming, and mercifully, there were no dreams.

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That was…a very depressing chapter. It was hard to write, too. –sniffle- Hope you liked, anyway, and please review!

-Fireblade K'Chona


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** I don't own J.K. Rowling's works, kapeesh? If you recognize it, chances are it ain't mine, unless you've been reading the story and recognize Aweina and the other characters I've made up.

**Muse responsible:** Rrissa!

_Aweina's thoughts_ and "-0o0-"will denote the beginning and end of a dream or flashback.

Hrm. I don't really like the part with Paul. It was awkward to write, and it seems…not good to me, or something. Argh. Oh, well. –shrug-

And this is my last chance to update before Potter 6, so keep in mind this will not follow the book at all! Though I do wonder how I'll finish this...well, I'll just see where it takes me!

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The numbing shock that had settled over Aweina lasted into the next day, as she arose to attend the funeral. Her two sets of black robes weren't formal enough for the occasion, so Aweina settled for the blue-green dress robes from Wesley, Kali, and Paul, with a black armband around her left arm-this was common practice among Aurors-and a black scarf around her eyes, which wasn't, unless you were Aweina and had lost your eyes.

The funeral was a rather short service, in respect to Riana, who had never liked long services and had stated in her will that she had wanted a short one. Aweina did not weep, today-the raw emotion had settled, but the shock was still-mercifully-insulating her against it.

She stood at attention by Violet, Andrew's widow, as Aweina's elder brother Allen read a short speech, his voice breaking every few words, and accepted sympathies at the reception in Aquila Manor's great hall with a nod as the wizards and witches walked past her. Aweina felt as if she was viewing the world through her scarf as though from a great distance, and hearing words from leagues away.

Poor Violet, her sister-in-law, who had lost her husband and first child, was on the verge of tears throughout the funeral. Aweina noted dimly when she slipped into a side room with a close friend, presumably to cry as Aweina had done the previous day.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she drifted past the room and looked through the door, closing it tactfully.

Aweina bumped into Allen-literally ran into him, since she had been focused through him-as the reception was winding down. Her taller brother looked like a wreck-much as Aweina imagined she looked, and Allen had no scarf to help hide his expression. Seeing him thawed the shock, a little, bringing the emotions that much closer-and Aweina had to fight down tears again as he put his arms around her, clutching his only sister close to him, as if to protect her.

Which was ridiculous, of course; if anything, Aweina was more likely to protect him, but she returned the embrace, burying her face in her brother's chest, the only part of him she was tall enough to reach, as she released her emotions again.

Alastor was there, along with Remus, Kingsley, Paul, Kali, Wesley, and other Aurors Aweina had trained with, not to mention a few scattered Order members. Tonks was by the refreshments table, knuckles white around the goblet of punch she was holding, her hair a dark, subdued brown today.

As the day wore on and the guests drifted away, leaving only the Aquilas and a few close friends, Alastor drifted over to Aweina and whispered, under the cover of getting some punch-proof of how incredibly distracted he was, since he normally only drank from his hip flask-"Emergency Order meeting, four to five. Hogwarts staff off the hook, if they want to be."

Aweina nodded and Disapparated, glad for something to do at last.

Grimmauld Place was buzzing with activity. Though there were fewer people there than normal, this being an emergency meeting and most people having duties to attend to, the members there were talking in low voices, worriedly and quickly.

Dumbledore came through the entrance, and, as if that were a cue, the Order gravitated towards the kitchen. Soon, they were seated all around the table, most looking intently at Dumbledore, others watching Aweina carefully.

The talking subsided, but as soon as it did, a witch across the table from Aweina jumped up and said, "Albus, how could this happen? I thought You-Know-Who was trying not to draw attention!"

A buzz broke out among the Order, which Dumbledore quieted with a wave of his hand. "Apparently he has chosen to begin striking again," he said, twinkle gone from his eyes and his voice somber.

"Why the Aquilas?" cried the voice of Bill Weasley, far down the table. Aweina bit her lip sharply.

"To unnerve us, I can only presume," said Albus, "The Aquilas are a powerful, old family. If-"

Someone interrupted him; it sounded like Molly Weasley, of all people. "I thought You-Know-Who was concentrated on Muggle-borns again," she said, knuckles white where she was gripping the table.

"You forget, Molly," said Alastor, in his customary growl, "That You-Know-Who targeted so-called 'pure-bloods' in the old days as well. The Bones. The Prewetts. The Potters."

Aweina's head pounded as the other wizards at the table began shouting again, each trying to be heard. Again, Dumbledore quelled them. "Severus?" he said, addressing the man who had just entered and sat, without a word of apology for being late, "What can you tell us?"

As she looked at the former Death Eater, and the spy closest to Voldemort Dumbledore had, something in Aweina snapped. She leapt to her feet, self-control breaking as she shouted, "How could he not know of this? How could he not _warn_ us?"

Aweina's voice wavered, growing higher-pitched as she continued to shriek, "Because of this, my family, my brother, nephew, and my _baby niece_ are dead! _Dead!_ How could he have not heard something of the kind? _How could he not?"_

The rest of the table looked startled at this outburst. Aweina was quivering with strain, on the very edge of another breakdown such as the previous day. Severus' face was blank with total shock as he stared at her.

Aweina realized she was supporting herself on the table, elbows locked, and knuckles white as she gripped the edge. Her entire body was shaking with stress, and her eyes whirled crazily, making her dizzy. She became aware that her breathing was ragged, on the edge of sobs.

With an effort, she scanned the faces along the table-staring at her, surprised as Severus was, and Aweina tensed defensively-

Alastor stood and went to Aweina, where he bent to whisper in her ear. "Aweina, you're in no condition to be here," he murmured, though his student was painfully aware that everyone in the room could hear them-"Go to Paul's. He's home today. This is an order."

Aweina nodded, once, and Disapparated.

She reappeared in Paul's flat, a third-floor apartment in a Muggle tenement house, several streets away from St. Mungo's. Her training partner looked up at her, surprised, from the coffee table-he was sorting photographs-but upon seeing Aweina's state, upset said table to reach her. Aweina sagged into Paul's arms as he put them around her, already breaking down again.

Paul was one of Aweina's closest friends, and had been in Ravenclaw with her through Hogwarts. They had been Chasers on the Quidditch team together, and Paul had often come to the Aquila manor over the summer holidays. It took a while for Aweina to realize that Paul was red-eyed from crying as well, though he seemed to have stopped for now-Riana had been a second mother to him, and Andrew the only little brother he'd ever known.

After a while-not as long a time she had wept as the day before, yet still at least a half hour-Aweina's sobs slowed. The pain and raw grief had turned to a heaviness that dragged on her heart, yet Aweina slowly stopped crying. It took a moment for her to realize that the continued sounds of soft weeping were coming from Paul, not herself. Swallowing, Aweina said, in a still-thick voice, "We must be a sight. Two full-grown Aurors…"

She trailed off. It really wasn't that funny, yet Paul managed a half-sob, half-chuckle. "I suppose you're right."

They pulled away from one another, slowly. "I suppose the blubbering _is_ a bit undignified," continued Paul.

"I won't tell if you won't," said Aweina, letting her face fall into her hands. "Oh, Merlin, I don't know how I'm going to teach tomorrow…"

"You'll manage," replied Paul, bringing himself back to a semblance of 'normal,' as if his training partners dropped in and bawled on his shoulder every day. "I'm guessing Alastor sent you?"

Aweina nodded. "I wasn't-am not-in any condition to do business, or anything," she said, "I should get back to Hogwarts."

Paul, in answer, lit a fire in the grate.

Dinner at Hogwarts was…uncomfortable, to say the least. Aweina had changed into less-formal robes, in dark blue-Aweina had found that if she wore black, she was often mistaken for a student, since she was rather short-but had left on the black armband and head-scarf. The meal was shepherd's pie, a dish Aweina normally devoured, but tonight…

Aweina turned one eye on her dinner and cut it unenthusiastically with her fork, even going so far as to lift the bite halfway to her mouth. After letting it hover there for a moment, she let her hand fall.

Aweina really didn't feel like eating-the heaviness on her heart was affecting her appetite. She felt as though she wouldn't be able to get anything down, or keep it there if by some off-chance she did.

After two small bites of shepherd's pie and a sip of pumpkin juice, Aweina set her fork down and pushed her plate away, resting her elbows on her table and her head in her hands. She could see the students looking up at her anxiously, a few staring openly.

Aweina refocused her eyes so all she could see was the darkness of the inside of her head and behind her scarf, unable to face the looks even indirectly. She sat there all through dinner, the shepherd's pie growing cold on her plate.

Dinner ended, and Aweina left the table, at last refocusing to look through her scarf. She walked dazedly through the doors of the Great Hall and began her journey up the stairs.

_I still have essays to grade,_ she thought, woodenly, _And lessons to plan…_

On the second floor, where Aweina detoured to avoid Peeves-whom she had seen rigging a bucket of water to fall on the next to walk up the stairs to the third floor, but didn't really want to do anything about-walking past the library, she paused.

Several Gryffindor sixth-years were in there, including Harry, Hermione, and Ron, but so were some Slytherin sixth-years. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle stood glaring at Harry and his friends, Draco saying something-Aweina couldn't hear him, but she could see his lips moving-that caused Harry to suddenly draw his wand, green eyes narrowed.

Aweina's eyes darted around the library, but Madam Pince was nowhere to be seen-strangely enough. Sighing heavily, Aweina went into the library, drawing her own wand.

Draco had not actually drawn his, yet, as Aweina drew within earshot, but he was talking in his usual pronounced sneer. The professor only caught the tag end of his sentence-"…your mother."

With a snarl, Harry lunged as Aweina rounded the bookshelf, raising his wand. Draco looked alarmed and jumped back as Hermione cried, "Harry, don't!" and Ron tried to grab at the boy's arm.

Aweina was in no mood to watch Harry curse Draco-though she may have enjoyed it another time. With a flick of her wand, Aweina set up a shield over Draco, and said, in a tired voice, "Expelliarmus."

Harry's wand went flying, landing several feet to the left of Hermione. With another wave of her wand, Aweina's ward dissipated. She folded her arms and began to speak, cutting off the beginning of Harry's sentence. "I don't care what happened here. What I saw was the beginnings of a fight, in which I had to intervene. Mr. Malfoy, ten points from Slytherin for provoking Mr. Potter. Mr. Potter, since you drew your wand and would have hexed Mr. Malfoy had I not intervened, ten points from Gryffindor and detention."

Draco smirked, while the Gryffindor's mouths dropped open. Sensing that Harry was going to protest against this, Aweina held up a hand to forestall talking. The hand still had her wand in it, so the students fell silent instantly. "Malfoy, to your common room. Potter, I see no reason why your detention should not be now. Come with me."

Turning, Aweina led the way out of the library, while inside she babbled with confusion. _Now? Why now? I'm barely in any condition to walk, let alone hold a detention-well, it's done, for whatever reason._

The Gryffindors and Slytherins separated just outside the library, and Ron and Hermione soon left when Aweina did not turn around to talk to them. Harry remained silent until they reached Aweina's office, where Aweina broke the ward on her door and went in, stopping at the threshold to conduct her usual check for traps. Once Harry had closed the door and sat down, he burst out, "Professor, why did you give me detention? Did you hear what he said?"

Aweina sat down in her own chair and put her head in her hands again. "No, I didn't hear what he said, and I don't care," she said, in a muffled voice, and held up her hand again to keep Potter from speaking. "Don't start," she added, "I'm not in the mood."

She rolled an eye up to look at Harry. His expression had slowly changed from outrage to concern. "Professor…you look terrible."

Aweina massaged her temples. "I have a mirror, Potter," she said-more waspishly than she'd intended.

They sat there in silence for a few moments, then Harry cleared his throat. "What is my detention, then?" he said.

Aweina sighed. She hadn't thought this far.

One of her eyes landed on the pile of essays on her desk. Picking up the top one, she handed it to Potter, then passed across a quill and a bottle of purple ink. Harry looked at them, then at her. "What?" he said. "These are seventh year essays…I can't correct these."

"Start reading it aloud," said Aweina, head still in her hands, "Reading puts a strain on my eyes at the best of times, and I'm behind."

Uncertainly, Harry began to read. Aweina listened, stopping him occasionally to have him write out a correction, and at last having him write out her comments and the grade at the top of the paper. She pushed her gradebook across the table as well, and had Harry mark the final grade down in there when he had finished.

It went by rather faster than correcting normally did for Aweina, and minus the eyestrain. They finished grading nine essays, Aweina's attention straying more and more, before Harry stopped reading, realizing the Defense professor was no longer listening.

Aweina sat with her head in her hands, eyes spinning slowly, trying not to remember the events of the day. The memorial service and reception had been more draining on her than she liked to admit, and breaking down at the Order meeting hadn't helped.

_I suppose I should apologize to Severus,_ she mused, remembering with some embarrassment that she had all but accused him of being a traitor. It took several repetitions of her name by Harry before she responded.

"Professor Aquila?" said Harry, a third time, tone worried as he looked at his teacher. Aweina started guiltily. "I'm sorry, Potter, it's just…"

Harry nodded, slowly. "I'm sorry," he said, in a quiet tone of voice, glance darting from her scarf to the black armband just below Aweina's left shoulder.

"Merlin, it's too early for Violet to wear the widow's ring," said Aweina, voicing a thought that had been haunting her all day, her tone rising, "Too early!"

She brought down her right fist on the table and bowed her head still further, rubbing her eyebrows with her left hand. The scarf was making it hard to see again, a sure sign that Aweina was on the edge of still another breakdown-

"Widow's ring, Professor?" said Harry, in a puzzled tone of voice.

"Old Aquila tradition," said Aweina, trying to bring her unruly emotions to heel, "When…when someone's wife or husband is killed, the surviving one of the pair wears a ring with a black gem in it instead of their wedding ring…my mother wore one for years, since my father died of a heart attack."

Harry looked sorry he'd asked. "Um…" he said, hesitantly, "This sounds stupid, but…I'm sorry."

"I know, Potter, I know," said Aweina, "You may go."

As soon as Harry left, Aweina warded the door again and went into her bedroom.

It was the work of a few moments to change into her pajamas and take the prescribed amount of potion. Getting into bed, Aweina stared at the ceiling for a moment, rolled over, and cried softly into her pillow until the potion took effect.

She awoke at the right time the next day-Thursday. Aweina looked back at the ceiling with both her eyes, not really wanting to get up.

_Have to keep moving,_ she thought, groggily.

It had been much the same when her father had died. Aweina, who had been very close to her father, hadn't really wanted to eat, or sleep, or do much of anything. What had gotten her through that hard time was caring for her mother-Riana had taken her husband's death hard, and Aweina's hours had been filled steadily by making sure her mother ate and cared for herself.

Now, though, the distraction was gone-no Aquilas went to the school at this time, since Aweina had no children, Andrew and Allen's kids had been murdered-and would have been too young, in any case, and her cousins' children were either too young to attend as well or had already graduated.

Her robes were green, today, but Aweina used one of her black scarves as an armband just below her left shoulder, as she had yesterday, and another black scarf around her eyes.

Pausing in front of the mirror, Aweina looked at her reflection for what seemed the first time in a long while. "I'm not going to break down today," she told the glass, watching her lips move silently on the other side.

Trying to believe this, Aweina went to breakfast. She managed to get two pancakes down, which was an improvement, though normally she could eat at least fourteen in one sitting.

Returning to her classroom, Aweina waited for her first class-either by coincidence or conspiracy, or maybe just the schedule, it was the Gryffindor and Slytherin sixth-years.

To Aweina's bemusement, several of the Gryffindors were wearing black scarves tied around their left arms. They were a bit hard to see against the black robes, but Aweina could see them-and was startled, yet gratified.

Clearing her throat, Aweina was surprised to find her voice steady as she began that day's lesson. Occasionally, she stopped to write on the blackboard, but overall, she lectured.

The class passed smoothly, as did the next, and the next. Occasionally, Aweina saw a few students-usually Ravenclaws, but there were quite a few Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs-wearing the black armband. At long last, the day ended-and Aweina realized, with a start, that she had a DA meeting to teach.

Aweina had planned to go over shields for more than one person today, but she didn't feel up to it. _What to do?_ she wondered as she headed towards the Room of Requirement. _I'm not up to doing high-level shields today, but we've reviewed the past few times, and I can't put them through that again-_

Suddenly, the idea came to her, and Aweina nodded to herself, firmly. _Right. I'll give them the Auror speech and leave it at that._

She closed the door behind her as she entered the Room, and saw the students already there, chatting amongst themselves. Aweina whistled for attention, and received it.

The DA watched her nervously as Aweina strode to stand in front of the group. "Today will not exactly be a lesson," she said, crisply, "First, I am sure there are wild rumors flying about as to what…what exactly happened to my family, and I shall clarify these."

Most of the students blinked as Aweina cast her eyes over them, looking rather surprised. None of them spoke, though-all of them simply watching her. Aweina cleared her throat and took a slow breath. "Two days ago, most of my family went out to lunch. My nephew Evan and my niece Lucia had colds that day, however, and remained home, under the care of my younger brother Andrew and my mother."

Aweina's voice turned cold and distant as she continued to speak. "While they were home, all four were murdered by Death Eaters, who sent the Dark Mark up for the first time in years. Investigators-including myself and several other Aurors-were able to find nothing, though the matter is still being examined."

The DA was completely silent. Aweina changed tacks, dodging away from the topic. "How many of you have seriously considered becoming an Auror? I don't mean, 'It would be cool to become an Auror.' I mean actually considering how you would train yourself, possibly where you would be stationed, and so on."

A few members raised their hands, among them Harry, Ron, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Katie Bell. Aweina nodded, sharply. "Good. You who raised your hands, stay here. The rest of you may leave."

To confused muttering, those who had not raised their hands left the room. Aweina looked over her prospective Aurors as they filed out, slowly, and something caught her attention-

"Miss Granger, you did not raise your hand. You may leave the room," she said, turning her face towards Hermione and watching her steadily.

Reluctantly, Hermione left the room, face turning red. Aweina closed the door after them with a wave of her wand and looked back at the remaining people-eleven students, total. Not many, but then again, hardly few.

"Have a seat," she said, and the Room instantly provided cushions for the teenagers. They watched Aweina as she took a position in the center in front of them, hands clasped behind her back. Aweina looked over them, remembering the first day of her own training, and the speech Alastor had given…

"What I am about to say is the introductory speech you will be given in Auror training," began Aweina, turning and beginning to slowly pace in front of the group, keeping her face turned towards them, "If you pursue this career, you will hear this speech, or one very similar to it, because each speaker tailors it to their personality, at your first day. So. Aurors."

Reaching the leftmost point, Aweina turned and began her slow walk towards the right of the audience. "Being an Auror is an extremely challenging and dangerous job," she said, "It carries great responsibility, risks, and strength in mind, magic, and body. This career is not one to be chosen lightly, so if at any time you think you may balk at the training, or suffer even the slightest misgivings now, you should leave. For to become an Auror, you must devote every part of your being towards training."

Aweina cast another look at her audience. The students were intent, listening sharply to her as she turned again. "Training is difficult, strenuous-some may even say 'brutal,'" she continued, "You will be drilled hard, in defense and attack, in disguise and strategy, in discovering and following clues in your pursuit of a Dark wizard. You will be taught to work solo, to work in a team in defense and attack, to defend not only yourself, but someone helpless you must keep alive at the same time. You will learn to stand alone and face many attackers, holding them off and _winning. _Again, this is very hard work, though-" Aweina gave a small smile-"I wouldn't call it 'brutal' unless you trained under Alastor Moody, which I did."

This wry remark brought a few chuckles from the students, and Aweina halted precisely in the center of her "stage" again. "In addition to these responsibilities, there are risks and consequences for you," she said, "You may be wounded, someone you are protecting you may be wounded, or you may be killed. I've been an Auror for longer than most of you have been alive, and I've earned my share of scars."

Aweina bent over and lifted the hem of her robe, rolling up her left pant leg to reveal a faded, round scar on her knee. "I got this when I was eight," she said, with another smile, "I was sliding down the banister and fell."

This received a few chuckles. Aweina straightened and pulled up her right sleeve, revealing a long, straight scar on her forearm. "I was ten, this time," she said, "And I had just gotten my own real broomstick. It was raining, so I was flying in the house-" most students winced-"And I gashed myself on a wrought-iron hearthpiece."

Aweina let her sleeve fall and tapped her right hip. "There's a scar here," she said, "A burn scar, about two inches long. I was practicing dueling when I was fifteen, and didn't dodge quite fast enough."

All the students winced. Aweina held up her left hand-on the back of it was a slightly irregular crescent-shaped scar. "I got this in Auror-training," she continued, "Not from a spell, but I was practicing my dodges. I ran through an open door, but part of the deadbolt was sticking out, and there was a sharp edge."

Aweina didn't look for a response, but straightened her left arm abruptly. Her elbow popped loudly. "That was in a small battle with Dark wizards," she said, her voice turning sober, "I broke the elbow joint, and I didn't get to a mediwizard quite fast enough."

Aweina progressed with one or two more scars, each scenario growing worse as she described them-she pointed to the location of a large one on her back, and showed them a nasty burn scar on her right upper arm-and paused.

The students' faces were sober, now, as Aweina looked over them. "Most of these came because I wasn't quite fast enough at dodging," she said, "Or I didn't see the attack. There are serious consequences for slacking in the dodging department, and a slight mistake can mean a limb-or a life. Half the time, it was sheer, stupid luck I came out of a battle alive. Luck, or sometimes a teammate guarding my back."

Aweina stopped again, groping for the words she wanted. She knew what she wanted to say, she just couldn't quite articulate it-something about the risks, Aweina knew, but what exactly she wanted to _say_ was beyond her.

At last, she said, "There are some who pay the price of the risky life of an Auror with their lives. Clever enemies, however, attack friends and family-I know Aurors who have lost their entire families, and anyone who means anything to them. I have lost friends and family to Dark wizards. The pain of the body cannot ever be compared-is slight, in comparison to the loss of a loved one."

Aweina halted yet again. _Damn, I'm getting off-topic. Well, I'll bring it back…somehow._

"But we were speaking of the pain of the body," she said, "We will return to the risks of the mind later. Some believe that the ultimate price is their life, and I agree, to some extent. But…those who die have a surcease from pain, a release from the burdens that wear so hard. Sometimes, it is living with your scars that is the highest price of all. Living with…this."

Aweina had reached up behind herself as she spoke, and had slowly undone the knot of her scarf. With the last word, Aweina let the scarf fall, catching it in one hand. She kept her right eye on the students, though she allowed the left one to continue its lazy journey. The reaction was predictable-gasps of horror, and open staring. "I received these scars in a battle, not that long after I became an Auror," said Aweina, voice steady, "Wesley and Paul, in my team, were down. Lucy and Kali, two of the others, were covering them, but Alastor-our leader-and I had been cut off and surrounded. We were fighting back-to-back when a Death Eater got in under my guard and caught me with a Lashing Curse point-blank."

More gasps, and the looks became ones of pity. Aweina ignored them. "I went down-a Lashing Curse _hurts,_ and it scars very badly-and once apparently wasn't enough for the Death Eater, since he got me five more times before Alastor blasted him."

"He covered me, holding off several Dark wizards at once, until I could be taken care of by mediwizards. I drifted in and out of consciousness for days-maybe weeks-at St. Mungo's, despairingly sure I would never see again."

Aweina paused. _Despairingly sure? My, don't I have a taste for the dramatic?_ she thought, wryly. Her right eye began to ache, holding it in one place for so long, so Aweina let it spin and revolved her left eye to watch the students.

"Alastor made these-" Aweina touched the corner of one eye with her finger-"and gave them to me. After a while longer-I still wasn't completely healed-I returned to my duties. The scars have not faded in ten years, and I will bear them until the day I die."

"Doesn't that _bother_ you?" blurted a Hufflepuff girl Aweina could never remember the name of, "I mean, couldn't you get it patched, or something?"

Aweina turned her left eye on the girl, allowing her right one to revolve as it normally did. The rest of the students there looked rather scandalized and shocked-but Aweina merely raised an eyebrow, knowing the effect the scars would have.

Sure enough, the girl gulped and looked contrite. "S-sorry," she muttered, looking down. Aweina let her eyebrow fall-it pulled at the scar tissue when she did that. "I can't get it 'patched,' as you said," she replied, calmly, "The Lashing Curse scars deeply and badly, so there is no possibility of regenerating normal skin. There's also a lot of technical Healer mumbo-jumbo that I don't understand and don't bother to try. But as for your first question-does it bother me?"

Aweina considered this, choosing her words carefully. "Once, it did," she began, at last, "Physically, that is. While I was blind, I was sure I would never see again. I worried about how I would live my life-horribly disfigured, and unable to see. What use is a blind Auror? After Alastor gave me my eyes, however…"

She slowed, but continued. "I was so happy to regain my sight, I didn't care how other people stared, for a long while. After a time, though…"

Aweina hesitated. How to tell of the horror-stricken looks she had received? The shame at seeing the pity in people's eyes when they stared at her?

She settled for, "I got tired of all the stares. That's why I wear the scarf now."

Aweina settled the scarf around her head again, knotting it once more as her eyes were veiled. "You earn your scars, but it's less important dealing with them as how you would deal with battle," she said, changing the topic smoothly.

"The terror absorbs you, and your blood runs cold. Your only thought is to get out of there alive, and how you're going to do it. I'm not ashamed to admit that I've been scared-so afraid I've considered running away. In the heat of battle, you're surrounded by people who are trying to kill you and hoping to Merlin you won't kill _them._ They're not bound by scruples about what's legal or not, though, and they'll use Dark or even Unforgivable curses on you if they think it'll subdue you. Yet somehow, you have to keep fighting them-and _win."_

Aweina stopped short, reviewing her little speech in her head. _My word, that was melodramatic,_ she thought, slightly annoyed with herself, _But then again, they're not going to understand how real battle feels without drama-with the exception of a few. Of course, if I go any further, I'll probably only confuse them…best conclude this fast._

Aweina cleared her throat, thought desperately for a few minutes, then seized on the everlasting teacher's fast wrap-up:

"Class dismissed."

* * *

Mm. Not entirely happy with that chapter, but oh well. Hope you all liked, and please review!

-Fireblade K'Chona


End file.

Harry Potter, Adventure