For the Devil to Dance Again [tomarry]

4. the room of requirement

By the end of the week, the who school was abuzz with gossip about Tiberius Rowle. Nearly everyone, from the first years to the seventh, from Slytherins to Gryffindors, found him to be brilliant. Such universal popularity was uncommon in Hogwarts, especially when it came to Defense Professors, who, in Harry's experience, divided the school. Only the professor from his first year, Quirinus Quirrel, had so united the students, but that was the annoyance of the garlic smell in his classroom and his nearly unintelligible stutter.

Professor Rowle, on the other hand, was already well known to be a competent teacher who delivered fascinating lectures. gave interesting homework, and assigned points when they were deserved regardless of house affiliation.

The only complaint Harry heard was from his twin. He didn't make it a habit of seeking Ryan out, and Ryan certainly didn't go out of his way to talk to Harry, but they still ran into each other. And Harry wasn't above eavesdropping on his brother.

"His whole family is dark," he heard Ryan whisper to his friends the second weekend of school. "I wrote to my dad, and he said that Rowle's brother was a Death Eater. You know, Hermione, a follower of You-Know-Who! I bet he's just waiting to get me on my own."

Harry rolled his eyes and moved on to the next shelf. It was just like Ryan to think everything was about him. And besides, Harry didn't think it was at all fair to judge someone by their family's choices. He didn't think that Ryan should think it was fair, either, considering some of the things he had said to Harry when he was first sorted into Slytherin.

But hypocrisy was a Potter family trait, or so Harry thought, so he paid it no mind. If Rowle really was related to a Death Eater, and Harry had no doubt about that at all, it didn't affect his teaching abilities. In fact, if he knew dark magic, it would make him all the more effective at teaching its defense.

Harry was a firm believer in knowing one's enemies, after all.

The rest of his classes weren't nearly as good. None of the other teachers were incompetent, except for maybe Binns, the ghost who taught History of Magic. But Defense had always been Harry's favorite subject, and he hadn't had such a competent professor since Lupin in his third year. But even Lupin had focused a bit too much on dark creatures, and not enough on spells.

And, of course, he was Ryan's godfather, which, Harry admitted to himself, probably predisposed him to dislike the man. Justified or not.

Harry's own godfather, Sirius Black, was in Azkaban for betraying the Potter's to the Dark Lord and murdering thirteen muggles with a single curse.

Just his luck, really. The only man who might have taken his side when he was sorted into Slytherin, and he was rotting away in prison.

His father's close friend, Peter Pettigrew, had tried to step up as Harry's godfather and had even written a very sympathetic letter to Harry after he was sorted, saying he was nearly in Slytherin himself. But Harry had never been that fond of Peter. He tended to be James' yes man, agreeing to nearly everything he said. At least Remus Lupin stood up for himself sometimes. But he was too easily cowed by James, even if he was kind to Harry and treated him the same as his brother.

It was a very low bar to reach, in his opinion, and he gave the man little credit for it.

The rest of Harry's classes were no different than previous years, save that the work was more difficult than ever and the homework took even longer to complete. Harry understood the need to prepare for their O.W.L.'s, but with quidditch practice and his prefect duties on top of that, he had very little free time. He didn't mind, much, except that he barely got to read what he wanted anymore, instead reading only his assignments.