"Professor?"

Her former teacher sighed before he raised his head from his book and looked over at the girl, although he was actually relieved that she had begun to sound less like she expected him to bite her head off whenever she opened her mouth. "Speak if you must, Miss Grayson," he allowed, emphasising the name they had chosen for her to use in their new life.

"I'm sorry, sir. I forgot."

"Which is why we are practising now," he conceded, though he didn't bother to conceal his impatience.

"Well, sir, I know that technically speaking you aren't my teacher at the moment. That is, you aren't actually being paid to teach me, and I know that you have your own preparation to do." At his raised eyebrow she plunged more deeply and quickly into babble mode. "I mean I understand that even though you have always seemed very rounded in terms of your magical ability, there may be areas that you haven't used regularly in your day-to-day life where you may need to revise."

The man who was still learning not to think of himself as Severus lifted his right hand, his first finger pointed straight out, and rotated that finger in a conical whirling motion, clearly indication that his ward should get to the point.

"Sir, I wondered if you would give me practical Defence lessons? In exchange for my quizzing you on any areas where you need help brushing up, I mean. I don't just expect you to do it for nothing," the girl who had once been Miss Granger, but who would sit her NEWTs as Miss Grayson quickly added.

Seraph S. Smith snapped his book closed. "Very well, Miss Grayson. I believe this calls for a change of revision methods. I will not need you to quiz me, however. Sylvie will quiz us both... while we duel. There is in fact nothing wrong with your Defence skills except for an atypical lack of confidence in your own ability and the want of a practice partner prepared to put in the time you need to gain that confidence."

The girl was unable to hide her doubt.

Seraph sneered his disapproval. "At some point early in your Hogwarts career, possibly as early as your first Halloween, you decided that Potter was better than you were when it came to the practical application of Defence Against the Dark Arts. This is patently a ridiculous idea. You are more intelligent than Potter. You are a far more powerful witch than Potter. You are, without doubt, more widely read than Potter. In every class, except mine, you learn far more quickly than the inestimable Mr Potter."

"But I'm not brave like Harry—"

"Brave? You believe Mr Potter to be brave, do you, Miss Grayson?" Seraph demanded. "How much bravery do you think it takes to use magic on a squib from behind? I'm sure that Potter and his redheaded sidekick found it very amusing to attack Argus Filch time and again in crowded corridors, and I know they lack the self-discipline or respect for authority necessary to resist the temptation to silence the man, but does that make them brave? Or perhaps you think that slicing open Draco Malfoy's chest was brave?"

"No! Of course—"

"Harry Potter is a spoiled, attention-seeking brat. If he were here instead of you, I would expect nothing other than petulance and idleness. You, Miss Grayson, are a far braver woman than you know. You have been thrown into a world that is alien to you, for a second time. You have squared your chin and made the best of the situation you have been dealt, and, of late, you have coped with all this, knowing that you have lost every person you ever knew or held dear. That is bravery, Miss Grayson. Your Mr Potter reacted to the loss of one man he barely knew like a toddler throwing a tantrum."

"I just know that I have to get through my NEWTs before I can fall apart," the girl confessed, her lip trembling slightly.

"And isn't that exactly what bravery is about?" he told her. "We'll start the new regime tomorrow, Hero."

---

Excerpt from The Half-Blood Prince by J. K. Rowling:

'Harry had already attempted a few of the Prince's self-invented spells. There had been a hex that caused toenails to grow alarmingly fast (he had tried this on Crabbe in the corridor, with very entertaining results); a jinx that glued the tongue to the roof of the mouth (which he had twice used, to general applause, on an unsuspecting Argus Filch); and, perhaps most useful of all, Muffliato, a spell that filled the ears of anyone nearby with an unidentifiable buzzing, so that lengthy conversations could be held in class with out being overheard. The only person who did not find these charms amusing was Hermione, who maintained a rigidly disapproving expression throughout and refused to talk at all if Harry had used the Muffliato spell on anyone in the vicinity.'