Ama Llulla

A/N:

My profound and humble thanks to RedSkyAtNight for her beta and Britpicking help. And thanks to all the insolent students I've had over the years who taught me that it's best to get the bitch-slapping out of the way the first day of term.

Rawa stood at the front of the classroom, watching the fifth-year students come in. This would be her last group of the day, a double period. On the lectern before her their names moved about the seating chart like bees as they took their places at the desks.

She noticed at once how tall they were. Most of the girls, even, were almost a head taller than she was. And the boys! What was in the food here?

A group this age, she knew, would need a firm hand at first, especially from one as small and harmless-looking as she was. She had dressed as she always did for teaching, in a simple shirt and drawstring trousers cut from aguayo cloth, and her hair was pulled back into a single long plait. She saw several students looking curiously at her feet; some of the girls giggled and nudged each other. She waited patiently until the scraping of chairs and buzz of conversation died down, and then addressed them.

"Good afternoon," she said. "My name is Rawa Akapana; I am the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." She gestured to the blackboard, where she had written her name.

A hand shot up. "Please, miss, what are we to call you?"

"'Professor Akapana' will serve. Or you may call me 'Q'ala Chaki'; that is how my students at home address me."

"What does that mean?"

She smiled briefly. "Bare feet."

A murmur rippled through the class. "I am accustomed to addressing my students by their first names, so I may seem less formal to you than your other teachers."

A red-haired boy in the second row nudged his neighbor and said, sotto voce, "She certainly seems more shaggable to me than our other teachers."

She glanced at the seating chart, then looked up. "Ronald Weasley?"

He nodded, his fair skin beginning to color.

"Tomorrow morning you will deliver to me a one-thousand-word essay explaining why that remark was inappropriate, and you will apologize to me and to the class for making it."

They were all silent now.

"All right," she said. "Are there any other questions before we begin?"

Next to the red-haired boy, a girl with wild ch'aska hair raised her hand. Rawa consulted the chart again. "Hermione Granger?"

"Please, . . . Q'ala Chaki..." she began haltingly, and Rawa heard a boy on the other side of the room whisper, "Suck-up."

"...there wasn't a textbook on the list for this class."

"That is correct. You will not be using a textbook. But before you become too excited..." she looked pointedly in the direction of a student who had hissed, "Yes!" "...you should know that you will spend many hours in the library this term. I will be assigning chapters from various books, as well as current articles from the scholarly magical literature."

A collective groan.

"Also, you will not need wands in this class."

The ch'aska's hand was in the air again. "Won't we be doing any practical exercises, then?"

"Yes, you will. But all of the magic you will be using will be without wands."

Another murmur of comment, louder this time.

"All right," she said. "We begin, then." She turned to the sheaf of notes on the lectern. "Today's subject is the compulsion of truth. Can someone tell me a way to force a person to speak the truth?"

A black-haired student with glasses raised his hand. "Harry," said Rawa, after a glance at the chart.

"There's Veritaserum."

"Very good, yes. Can you tell me its properties?"

"It's odorless, colorless . . . and quite expensive."

"And what are its limitations?"

He stopped and thought for a moment. "I don't know about limitations. But there are some restrictions on using it."

"For example?"

"Well, for one thing, teachers aren't allowed to use it on students."

"Thank God for that!" said a boy in the back of the room, to general laughter.

"Right." She smiled. "Any others? Yes, Hermione?"

"It's forbidden to use it in social and romantic relationships."

"Forbidden by law?"

"I don't think so. It's just, everyone knows, it's . . . not done."

"A social taboo."

"Yes, that's it," said Hermione.

"And why is that, do you think?" There was a silence. "Anyone?"

Finally a boy with white-blond hair, the one who had mocked Hermione for calling her "Q'ala Chaki," said, "Because girls don't really want to know if their arse looks fat in those jeans."

Everyone laughed, including Rawa, and she said, "Well, you are probably right. But I want all of you to think about the role of trust in intimate relationships, and imagine the effect that something like Veritaserum could have on it."

After a moment she said, "What about more concrete limitations? For instance, how long do the effects of Veritaserum last? Hermione?"

"Veritaserum has a half-life of just over three hours, longer in children and the elderly, and shorter in the morbidly obese."

"Very good! Harry, you have a question?"

"Yes, well, no offense, but . . . what does this have to do with the Dark Arts? It seems like more of a topic for a Potions lesson."

"Really? You cannot think of any Dark uses for Veritaserum?"

"Well, yes, I suppose so . . ."

"Think of it this way. There are lies, which we generally consider to be bad, correct?"

"Yes."

"And then there is the matter of privacy, which is generally a good thing. Is there anyone in the world who is entitled to know everything that you are thinking and feeling?"

"No, of course not."

"So there are many things that you have the right to keep to yourself, no?"

"No," he agreed. "I mean, yes."

"Think about the kind of important secrets that some people must keep. Do you see how great evil could be done, if the wrong people had the power to compel others to reveal those secrets?"

A shadow crossed his face, a look of desolation that was too grave for a fifteen-year-old. Something there, thought Rawa. I wonder what it is.

"Yes," he said slowly. "I see what you mean."

"Most spells and potions are not intrinsically good or evil; they are just instruments of the person casting them. It is all about intent."

"But what about the Unforgivable Curses?" persisted Harry.

"What about them?" asked Rawa. "Can you honestly say that you would never, ever use one, even to save your own life, or the life of someone you loved?"

Harry paused.

"Got you there, didn't she, you conceited tosser?" said the blond-haired boy, and everyone sitting around him laughed.

There was a joke there, but Rawa did not understand it. She looked at the seating chart. "What was that, Draco?"

"I was just remarking that Harry is a tosser," he said, with a smirk.

"Meaning what?"

His face took on an air of studied innocence. "It's a term of endearment, miss. Harry and I are best friends."

She looked him sternly in the eye. "Ama llullakuychu, sut'inta niy, Draco Malfoy. What did you mean by calling Harry a 'tosser'?"

The smirk returned, and he said, "It's a slang term for a stupid person, a person who masturbates, miss, because I don't like him, and I thought it would be funny." The expression on his face changed immediately to one of horror, and he clapped a hand over his mouth.

She smiled. "Thank you for clarifying that, Draco."

Hermione Granger was fairly bouncing up and down in her seat, her eyes shining. "That's the Ama Llulla spell, isn't it? I've read about it, but I've never actually seen it done before!"

"Excellent, Hermione! Yes, it is. Now, what have you read about it? Can you tell me some differences between the use of Ama Llulla and Veritaserum?"

"You have to say it aloud, and you have to say the person's name that you're using it on."

"Yes. Which means what?"

A tall, awkward-looking boy raised his hand, and she looked down at the chart.

"Yes, Neville?"

"You can't use it on someone without them knowing you're doing it."

"Exactly. No slipping it into someone's drink when they are not looking. Anything else?"

"It doesn't last."

"Correct again, Hermione. You have to repeat the spell with every question. Now, does anyone know the literal meaning of ama llulla?" When no one answered, she said, "Ama llulla means do not lie. Can anyone think what the difference is between the principle of not lying, and the truth-telling principle behind Veritaserum?"

There was a long silence, and then Neville Longbottom raised his hand tentatively. "It doesn't actually force you to say anything?"

"Excellent, excellent! That's exactly it: if you have taken Veritaserum you have no choice about answering the questions that are asked of you. Ama Llulla doesn't force you to answer, it just ensures that anything you do say will not be a lie."

"You mean you can just keep quiet if you want to?"

"Así es. Although, as you know, there are some questions to which silence is as good as a response."

Hermione's hand went up again. "So why did Draco say what he did? Why couldn't he just have said nothing?"

"A very good question." Rawa smiled and turned to Draco. "Draco, would I be correct in thinking that what you said was not what you thought you were going to say?"

"Yes," he muttered.

"Your intent was to make another clever remark?"

"Yes," he said again, sullenly.

One more, my little güero. Because I am going to drive this home, and then I will not have any more insolencias from you for the rest of the term. "You could have kept your mouth closed, am I right?"

"Yes! All right?"

She smiled tightly. "Now we are going to have some practice, so I want you to pair yourselves. First you will learn how to pronounce and direct the spell, and then you will be trying it on your partners." Seeing the looks of alarm on the faces of a few students, she said, "I will give you a list of questions you are permitted to ask. And I would advise you to follow it very carefully, unless you want to spend many, many Saturdays assisting me with menial tasks."

Ron Weasley raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"How come Malfoy doesn't have to write a thousand words and an apology?"

"Porque no. And because he was good enough to provide me with a perfect teachable moment."

Ron turned to Hermione. "How many inches of parchment is a thousand words, anyhow?"

"Ron! Just count them! You do know how to count to a thousand, don't you?"

"A thousand!" said Harry. "He can't count to twenty-one without undoing his flies!"

Rawa cleared her throat. "Now would you all please repeat after me: AmA llullaKUYchu . . . "