Chapter Text
They had two Defence Against Dark Arts classes. With the first one interrupted by the prank on Umbridge, the second one had turned into a class-wide inspection of their wands. Snape who had come hearing the commotion had assisted Umbridge in using the Priori Incantatem to check all their wands for the spell that had caused her chair to break. He was thankful that due to his ego, he had not used his wand and instead trained his wandless magic by casting the spell.
And then McGonagall had arrived at the scene, she had claimed that Umbridge cannot put an entire class in detention for what could have been one student’s misdemeanour. But then, the Reverse Spell had failed to produce the identity of the culprit. Snape had tried to pin the blame on him, but he had simply produced his wand again for inspection and the reverse spell once again showed nothing, so they had no proof. When Umbridge had suggested a binding Oath of truth to every student, McGonagall had overruled her with her authority as the deputy headmistress, claiming that they were students and not criminals.
He had used the remaining time to practice and train until dinner. They had just finished dinner and he was finishing up his Potions homework when the portrait hole opened and Ron and Hermione entered the common room to join him.
“What are you doing, mate?” Ron asked as he gave a querying look on the open books and spare parchments lying around him on the floor where he was sitting.
“Homework.” He said not taking his eyes off the book.
“Is that Snape’s stuff?” Ron asked and he gave a nod, “Wait, I’ll get my parchments. I can copy it from yours.” With that, Ron ran up the stairs without waiting for him to reply.
Hermione on the other was now giving him dirty looks, “What?” He asked exasperatedly.
“Don’t you dare let him copy your work.” She said stiffly.
“Why not?” He deflated a little and asked with a tired smile.
“He will never learn how to do this on his own if he copied it from you.” She sighed as she put her bag on the floor beside him and sat opposing him.
“Hermione, I appreciate your intent, but you can’t force him to change, not when he isn’t willing to change himself.” He sighed at her.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, “But you can’t keep encouraging him either, Harry.”
That made him think. She was right, he can’t keep enabling him, and she can’t keep trying to force him. So, it brought the question of what to do.
“What do you think we should do?” Harry asked her.
Hermione had the same thought as him, “I don’t know…, but I intend to find out.”
“Then please do.”
They fell into silence as he finished his potions homework and opened his homework planner to see that his Arithmancy homework was next. He picked up the Arithmancy book he had brought from home and he opened the chart that professor Vector had handed to the class. He began comparing the notes in the book with the chart trying to make sense of it. That’s when he remembered something.
“Oh, and I spoke to the Twins. They have agreed not to test their products on first-years, they will keep it strictly on the older students.” Hermione beamed at him.
“How did you get them to agree?” She asked him.
He shrugged unconvincingly, “I’ve always had considerable sway over them.”
“I wonder why?” Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.
This time he kept his poker face, “It’s always been that way.” But it only made Hermione even more suspicious as she narrowed her eyes even further. He wasn’t going to tell them that he had given them the Triwizard winnings for their joke shop, he didn’t need a jealous Ron and an angry Hermione breathing down his neck.
Thankfully, Ron returned with his parchments and quill and ink, breaking the tension. Ron sat beside him and wasted no time as he began writing fervently, while Hermione groaned in frustration.
“For heaven’s sake, Ron. The books Harry used to write about the Moonstones are right in front of you. Read it for once and write the homework on your own!” Hermione nearly screamed at Ron.
But Ronald Weasley was an expert at ignoring things he rather not wished to hear, “It’ll take too long.” He had mumbled back.
“Harry! Say something!” She snapped at him.
Ron gave him a look, clearly wondering if he would really say something. Harry remembered the promise he had made to McGonagall, he would not let Ron rub off on him, which means he had to say something, so he sighed, “I agree with her. The books are right here.” He placed his hand on the book with the page on Moonstones still open.
“You too?” Ron asked incredulously.
“Hmmm…” Harry thought, how was he supposed to spin this in a way that would make Ron study, “What if they asked you to write about Moonstones in the final? How will you know what to write if you copied it without reading about it?”
Ron however wasn’t the least bit alarmed, “I’ll read it later.” Ron said confidently as he went back to writing again.
Meanwhile, Hermione glared at him for giving up too easily. He decided that he had enough of this, “Hermione, if you want to make him read, then you find a way. Until then, this topic is off the discussion.”
With the same intensity, he turned to Ron, “Listen, mate. If you want to copy my homework, fine. But read three pages, and I’ll give it to you.” He said before pulling his parchment away and rolling it before putting it in his bag. Ron glared at him, and then glared at Hermione before grumbling and taking the book before him to give it a read. Hermione looked mildly satisfied, Ron looked tense and he sighed tiredly.
Ten minutes later, Ron had glanced over the three pages and was now briskly copying his homework once again, making Hermione glare at him again, while he simply shrugged his shoulders saying that he didn’t care as long as Ron had done what he had asked him to.
Hermione stared down at her half-done History of Magic homework on her parchment for a few seconds, then said edgily, “Oh, it's no good, I can't concentrate now. I'm going to bed.”
She wrenched her bag open; he thought she was about to put her books away, but instead, she pulled out two misshapen woolly objects, placed them carefully on a table by the fireplace, covered them with a few screwed-up bits of parchment and a broken quill and stood back to admire the effect.
“What in the name of Merlin are you doing?” Ron asked her, watching her as though he was fearful for her sanity.
“They're hats for house-elves.” She said briskly, now stuffing her books back into her bag, “I did them over the summer. I'm a really slow knitter without magic but now I'm back at school I should be able to make lots more.”
“You're leaving out hats for the house-elves?” Ron was now suspicious, “And you're covering them up with rubbish first?”
“Yes,” Hermione replied defiantly, swinging her bag on to her back.
“That's not…” Ron began angrily, “You're trying to trick them into picking up the hats. You're setting them free when they might not want to be free.”
“Of course, they want to be free!” Hermione said at once, though her face was turning pink. “Don't you dare touch those hats, Ron!” She then turned on her heel to leave.
“I wouldn't bother.” Ron told her cuttingly, “They might not even count as clothes. They didn't look anything like hats to me, more like woolly bladders.” Hermione gave them both a glare that chilled him and she left fuming.
Ron waited until she had disappeared through the door to the girls' dormitories, then cleared the rubbish off the woolly hats, “They should at least see what they're picking up.” Ron said as he sat back down and continued on his homework.
Meanwhile, he simply smirked at their antics fondly and shook his head in amusement, as he worked on his Arithmancy homework.
Next morning…
“You cannot pass an OWL…” Professor McGonagall said grimly, “…without serious application, practice and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an OWL in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work.”
Neville made a sad little disbelieving noise, “Yes, you too, Longbottom.” Professor McGonagall continued, “There's nothing wrong with your work except lack of confidence. So…today we are starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until NEWT level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your OWL.”
She was quite right; Harry found the Vanishing Spells to be tricky, the wand movements were the problem, the incantation and intent seemed fine. By the end of a double period, he barely managed to vanish the snail on which he was practising, though Ron said hopefully he thought his snail looked a bit paler. Hermione, on the other hand, successfully vanished her snail on the third attempt, earning her a ten-point bonus for Gryffindor from Professor McGonagall. She was the only person not given homework; everybody else was told to practise the spell overnight, ready for a fresh attempt on their snails the following afternoon.
Still angry about Ron's slur on her woolly hats, Hermione did not speak to them all day. By the time they reached Care of Magical Creatures in the afternoon, Harry's head was aching again, and his scar hurting.
The day had become cool and breezy, and as they walked down the sloping lawn towards Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, they felt the occasional drop of rain on their faces. Professor Grubbly-Plank stood waiting for the class some ten yards from Hagrid's front door, a long trestle table in front of her laden with twigs. As Harry and Ron reached her, a loud shout of laughter sounded behind them; turning, they saw Draco Malfoy striding towards them, surrounded by his usual gang of Slytherin cronies. He had clearly just said something highly amusing, because Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson and the rest continued to snigger heartily as they gathered around the trestle table and, judging by the way they all kept looking over at Harry, he was able to guess the subject of the joke without too much difficulty.
“Everyone here?” Professor Grubbly-Plank barked, once all the Slytherins and Gryffindors had arrived, “Let's crack on then. Who can tell me what these things are called?”
She indicated the heap of twigs in front of her. Hermione's hand shot into the air. The twigs on the table leapt into the air and revealed themselves to be what looked like tiny pixie-ish creatures made of wood, each with knobbly green arms and legs, two twiglike fingers at the end of each hand and a funny flat, bark-like face in which a pair of beetle-brown eyes glittered.
“So, does anyone know the names of these creatures? Miss Granger?”
“Bowtruckles…” Hermione replied with enthusiasm, “They're tree-guardians, usually live in wand-trees.”
“Five points for Gryffindor.” Professor Grubbly-Plank awarded her, “Yes, these are Bowtruckles, and as Miss Granger rightly says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. Anybody know what they eat?”
“Woodlice.” Hermione promptly said, “But fairy eggs if they can get them.”
“Good girl, take another five points. So, whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree in which a Bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to have a gift of woodlice ready to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will try to gouge at human eyes with their fingers, which, as you can see, are very sharp and not at all desirable near the eyeballs. So, if you'd like to gather closer, take a few woodlice and a Bowtruckle. I have enough here for one between three, so you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body-parts labelled by the end of the lesson.”
Harry subtly allowed magic to flow as he felt his Inner Eye gleam open at the Bowtruckle. He took a closer look and memorised every single detail of the creature before him. Ever since his Awakening, sketching had become easier, so had his handwriting which had improved for the better, he didn’t know why. None of his previous lives he could remember had any interest in drawing or painting, which made him wonder if this was due to one of the lives he did not remember?
He sat down and began drawing, as Ron held the Bowtruckle feeding it woodlice for Hermione and him to draw. By the end of the lesson, he finished his sketch with lifelike detail before everyone else, and all those who hadn’t finished were given it as homework. Professor Grubbly-Plank went through his sketch closely and then nodded, “Good work, Mr Potter. Three points for Gryffindor.”
Next-Day…
The day ended with Astronomy, where Professor Sinistra had asked them to write about the constellation Orion in the next class.
Ron rolled his neck tiredly beside him, “Can you believe the homework we got? We have to practice Vanishing Spells for McGonagall, the counter-charm for Flitwick, the essay for Sprout, the dream diary for Trelawney, the questions on Bowtruckle for Plank and now this essay on Jupiter’s Moons for Sinistra. I think I might go mad.”
“How far along have you gotten?” Ron turned to him expectantly.
“I’ve got the hang of the Vanishing spells, both of them, and I’ve not even started the essay on the Inanimatus Conjurus Spell for McGonagall. I didn’t get the proper handling techniques of Bowtruckles essay from Plank since I finished the drawing during class. I have yet to work on Flitwick’s counter-charm. I finished professor Sprout’s self-fertilizing shrubs essay last night…”
Ron interrupted him at that, “You did? When?”
“After the prefects' rounds, I was up past two last night, Ron.” He said with a yawn.
Ron glanced at Hermione and then whispered to him, “Could I maybe borrow it tonight?”
Hermione however surmised Ron’s question and stepped in, “Don’t you dare, Ronald Weasley!”
“Oh, why not?” Ron protested.
“Why haven’t you been doing it? What did you do last night?” She separated him and Ron by pushing them aside and taking her place between him and Ron to make sure that Ron could not whisper to him again.
“I-I fancied a walk last night.” Ron was shite at lying and it showed.
“A walk?” She asked suspiciously.
“Yes, a walk! What of it? Can’t I enjoy a walk now and then?” Ron snapped at her to which Hermione huffed at them both.
As they walked out of the Astronomy tower and towards the corridor, Harry turned right instead of left.
“Where are you going, mate?” Ron asked not particularly interested.
“I have some work in the library, I’ll meet you both in the Great Hall for dinner.” Harry said to dissuade Ron and Hermione from following, but he realised his mistake the moment he said it. Hermione jumped on the opportunity to go to the library.
“I’ll come with you.” Hermione quickly changed directions and walked towards him.
Ron however shrugged at them, “I’ll pass. I want to go for a walk.”
As Ron walked away, he and Hermione went down towards the library, as they were waiting for the staircase, they were standing on to finish arranging itself, Hermione turned to him, “Where were you really planning on going?”
“I have no idea what you’re talk-…”
“Stop it, Harry. I’ve known you for four years now, Ron may be oblivious, but I can tell when you’re lying. You went to the library after potions today, I know because I was there.” Hermione surmised giving him a piercing look.
“What I do with my time is my business, Hermione.” He said curtly, not wishing to elaborate.
Hermione bit her lip at that, “Do you really not trust us anymore?”
“Uhh…” He groaned because he didn’t want to answer that question.
Hermione had always been with him, even last year when Ron had doubted him about his name in the goblet of fire, she had believed him. That was why when she hadn’t contacted him all summer, it hurt. But she had earned his trust ten times over than what she had lost.
“Fine.” He muttered and he took a deep breath and exhaled before saying, “I’m going to meet professor Flitwick.”
“Professor Flitwick? Why?” Hermione was now confused.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and then shrugged, “I was going to ask him to teach me how to duel properly.”
Hermione stepped forward and fully turned to face him, stopping him from going any forward, “Duelling?”
“Voldemort’s back, Hermione. And he’s doing who knows what. The next time I face him, I want to be prepared. At least prepared enough to survive the encounter.”
She frowned at him, “You survived once, you could...”
He interrupted her, “I survived because of luck, not skill or strength, but pure luck. I’m not leaving my fate to luck again. If I’m going to die, I’m going to die fighting.”
“You’re not going to die!” She said determinedly, “Dumbledore would never let that happen.”
“Four years in this school, Hermione. Think of the things we have gone through together. No one else in our class can even scarcely imagine it even if they wanted to. We should know better by now. Dumbledore’s protection has its limits.”
Hermione deflated at that, she opened her mouth to retort, but couldn’t because she knew it was true. Seeing the logic, she finally acquiesced to his statement with a nod, “I think it’s good to be prepared.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you think professor Flitwick would grant you your request? Is he even allowed to? Teachers aren’t supposed to be partial to any individual student.” Hermione wondered mostly to herself rather than at him.
“Tell that to Snape about Malfoy.” Harry snarked at her with a smile.
She turned to him and frowned, making him add, “I have a plan. Sirius told me that my mother was apprenticed to professor Flitwick from her sixth year. And that any student from fifth-year or up can be apprenticed to a professor if the professor chose to take them as one. It’s rarely done these days since it’s a large responsibility for the professors to undertake atop their tight schedule, but it’s still possible. Which would allow them to teach us whatever syllabus they think we ought to know.”
Hermione’s eyes gleamed, “Apprenticeship. I don’t remember reading that anywhere, is it true?”
“Apparently, it is. Remus and Andromeda advised me to ask the headmaster for an apprenticeship. It was a good plan, but I wasn’t so sure about that. Considering the smear campaign, the Ministry has started against me and Dumbledore, I don’t think adding more fuel to a fire is a good way to go about this.”
Hermione however was scarcely listening to him, he could see her mind working, almost hear her thinking, “I think it's brilliant. Apprenticeship.”
“What are you thinking?” He cooed at her as if she was a child, shaking her out of her stupor.
“Nothing.” She quickly recovered, not doing her best to hide her plans.
His eyes narrowed with a wide smile etched on his face, “You’re thinking of asking some professor to take you as an apprentice, aren’t you?”
“No…” She drawled while kept giving him glances, doing a shrug of her shoulders that she hoped would convince him, but it only made her sound more guilty.
“Yes, you are…” His eyes widened, “Who is it? McGonagall? Vector? Babbling?”
Hermione rolled her eyes at him annoyed, “Will you stop?”
He grinned at her knowingly, “Fine.”
The staircase arranged itself finally and they began walking down again. “And Harry…” She called him when they reached the corridor below.
“Mmm…” He replied distractedly.
“You’re really working hard in class, I’m proud of you.” She said to him with a beaming smile, and he brightened at that, “Just don’t close your heart to us again.”
He thought for a moment. He wanted to tell her, but he also felt like not telling her.
“Hermione. For the past few days, I’ve done nothing but try to open up to you both. Change isn’t easy, Hermione.”
He saw her swallow a lump in her throat, “Harry, I am sorry about this summer. I will never cut off contact again like that, ever. I promise.”
“I know something else happened this summer, you’re different…in a good way.” She quickly added, “I hope you’ll tell me one day.”
“I’ll see you at dinner.” He said contemplating her words.
“I’ll see you, Harry.”
Hermione walked down and headed towards the library, while he turned on his heel and went towards Ravenclaw tower.
It took him a few minutes to reach Flitwick’s office. The Ravenclaw students who passed him by on the way up to the tower all stared at him either incriminatingly or appreciatively, although the number of glares far outweighed looks of awe.
He knocked on their charms professor’s door twice and he heard the voice, “Come in.”
He opened the door a little and he stuck his head in, “Professor Flitwick, do you have a moment?” It’s only when he finished, did he see professor Sprout and professor Babbling in the room chatting with the half-goblin charms professor.
“Yes, Mr Potter.” The charms professor signalled him in.
Seeing the two other professors, he realised that making his case now would be difficult. Another part of him argued that he shouldn’t waste this opportunity. He quickly reviewed the facts. As he was now, he would never be able to survive against Voldemort unless he had a ridiculous amount of luck on his hands, which was something he wasn’t counting on to save his life. But asking for an apprenticeship when he’s not even among the best students in the class might seem like he’s using his fame to get ahead, which he did not wish for in the least. He quickly decided against asking for an apprenticeship until he proved that he was apprentice material.
Professor Flitwick ushered him to sit on an empty chair, “Sit, sit…”
The room was oval in shape, painted in a shade of lemon yellow. A large fireplace on the right side, a large window opposite the door and a table overlooking the window. Books were stacked all around the room, and on the shelves were trophies, gold and silver, however, there were far too many golden trophies than silver.
The charms professor immediately handed him a small plate with a cupcake on it. He took a bite and it was delicious, but professor Babbling’s eyes trained on him did not help ease his tension.
“Professor?” He called and the half-goblin charms expert turned to him, “Yes, Mr Potter.”
“What can I do for you?”
“Could you teach me how to duel?” He asked not wishing to beat around the bush.
The charm caster gave him a piercing look for a long moment until it faded, “I could. I would suggest that you join the duelling club. You will gain much.”
The duelling club that Lockhart formed in his second year was still active, professor Flitwick supervised it nowadays.
Harry decided to clarify, “Professor, I wish to survive an encounter against Voldemort if possible. I don’t think I’ll gain enough from the club.” All three professors averted their eyes at the name.
“Professor, I don’t know if you believe me, frankly, I don’t care. I just need oversight and advice from a master.”
It was professor Sprout that replied to him, “We’ve known the headmaster for a long time, Mr Potter. We do not put much stock into the rubbish that Prophet prints. If Albus believes that you-know-who has come back, we believe him.” Professor Babbling nodded in agreement and so did professor Flitwick.
Professor Flitwick said in agreement, “I concur with Pomona. I think I might be able to help you, Mr Potter.”
The half-goblin charms master fished out a slip from one of his books on the table. Took his quill and dipped the tip in ink and brushed his signature on the slip.
“This is your pass to use the library’s forbidden section, Mr Potter. Use it wisely.” Flitwick gave him and he took it thankfully.
However, the professor took a piece of parchment and started scribbling something. After a few minutes of diligent writing with professors Babbling and Sprout pointing out a few names and a few suggestions, all of which professor Flitwick weighed in his mind and finished a list.
“These are the books you must refer to. This will help you get started.” Professor handed him the list and he took it glancing at the names of the books.
“Thank you, professor.” He smiled and stood up.
“If you have any doubts, Mr Potter. My door is always open.”
“Thank you, sir.” Harry gave a nod of gratitude.
With that, he left the office, putting the list and the pass in the inner pocket of his robes. As he was descending down the stairs, he mused. He had gone in there hoping for the worst and he was pleasantly surprised that he had gotten a firm direction to follow.
Ever since his ‘Awakening’, his centre of balance was astounding. He had more control over his movements, more flexibility and he was warier of his surroundings, in tune with his senses. He was sitting sideways on his Firebolt, hovering over the pitch watching Ron and four others at the try-outs, listening to Angelina’s instructions. Hermione had declined the invitation to come and watch, she didn’t give them a reason, but he knew it must be important.
Alicia came in fast, flying right at him, at the last moment she turned while throwing the quaffle at him, he shifted in his seat a little and he caught the ball effortlessly, he quickly passed it in a throw to Fred, and he focused back on Ron.
A few minutes later, the try-outs began, as he, Fred, George, Alicia and Angelina all began flying at speed, intimidating the keeper. They flew in a v-formation and Angelina passed the quaffle to him, he flew true to the centre ring but instead of throwing it at the rings, he threw it upwards. George swooped in and backhanded the ball, sending it at the ring on the far right. Bridget failed to save it by inches. And then, they reset the pitch, changing positions and trying formations.
Each Keeper candidate was given five opportunities to defend. Bridget Henwick was a fourth-year, she looked nervous, she missed three and only saved two. Vicky Frobisher saved all five. Geoffrey Hooper saved all five. Ron managed to save four, lost one. And Glenn Mallory, the pompous git missed three and saved twice, flying away from the pitch fuming.
Bridget Henwick left dejectedly when Angelina barked that she needed confident players. The second round of try-outs continued with Geoffrey, Vicky and Ron. Malfoy and his cronies came along to the pitch and started hurling insults at Ron and the others. That certainly swayed the players, a little, Vicky and Geoffrey being older quickly composed themselves, but Ron failed.
They played again. This time, he, Katie and Alicia were together playing defence, while Angelina, Fred and George played offence. It took them nearly an hour, but the try-outs ended when all three had their ten chances. Ron defended seven times, just as many times as Geoffrey, but Vicky was clearly better than the others, she saved nine times and only lost once.
In the end, Angelina decided to choose their new Keeper. As they all undressed and redressed in the changing room and set out towards the castle, Ron came running towards them, “I’m in. I’m in. I’m a Keeper!”
And then the partying began. The twins had expected Ron to make it into the team, and they had smuggled in bottles of Butterbeer.
Halfway through the party, Ron began drowning in Butterbeer and began telling a group of third-years his great tales of how he made Keeper. Harry smiled at the boisterous boy he considered a friend and he enjoyed the party in silence. His gaze fell on Hermione who was dozing off in an armchair by the fire, her drink tipping precariously in her hand. He smiled at that as well.
His scar was hurting, since the try-outs. As much as he wished to distract himself, he couldn’t because the pain reminded him that all these good times were about to come to an end soon. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to that graveyard, to the rolling images of Voldemort being resurrected.
Angelina came striding up to Harry and took a seat beside him, butterbeer in hand, her eyes fixed on Ron.
“Look, I know he's your best mate, but he's not fabulous.” She said bluntly, “I think with a bit of training he'll be all right, though. He comes from a family of good Quidditch players. I'm banking on him turning out to have a bit more talent than he showed today, to be honest. Vicky Frobisher and Geoffrey Hooper both flew better this evening, but Hooper’s a real whiner, he's always moaning about something or other, and Vicky's involved in all sorts of societies. She admitted herself that if training clashed with her Charms Club, she'd put Charms first. Anyway, we're having a practice session at two o'clock tomorrow, so just make sure you're there this time. And do me a favour and help Ron as much as you can, OK?”
Harry gave her a nod of confidence, and Angelina strolled back to Alicia Spinnet. He moved over to sit next to Hermione, who awoke with a jerk.
“Oh, Harry, it's you…good about Ron, isn't it?” She asked blearily, “I'm just s-so…so tired.” She yawned, “I was up until one o'clock making more hats. They're disappearing like mad!”
And sure enough, now that he paid a closer look, Harry saw that there were woolly hats concealed all around the room where unwary elves might accidentally pick them up.
“Good for you.” He chuckled at her, “Although, I don’t think your plan to free the elves is a sound strategy though.”
Now that brought her out of her sleepiness near-instantly, her eyes narrowed at him, “I thought you supported my idea.”
“I do.” He said, “I think SPEW is a good idea. The name definitely needs work, but it’s a good goal to have. But I think, you’re going about this the wrong way.”
“What do you mean?” She asked in mild interest, she was still happy that she had someone to support her goal.
“I tricked Lucius Malfoy into freeing Dobby because Dobby wished to be free. The elves here in Hogwarts are happy already, you can’t free them and expect them to be happy.”
“But its slavery, Harry!” She tried to snap at him, but she was too tired that it came out as a moan.
“I am aware, Hermione.” He replied soothingly, “But we need to research more and find out why they wish to be in servitude and try to explain to them that freedom is better.”
Hermione smiled at him, “I’d love your help, Harry.”
“Fine, I’m in.”
Now that was out of the way, he began, “My scar’s been hurting. On and off all summer. What do you think it is?”
She gave him a curious look, “Is it hurting now?” He gave her a nod.
“On a scale of one to five, how would you rate your pain?” She asked.
“Three?” He said, “Yes, three…”
She who was resting her back on the chair sat up and asked, “Is the pain more than a slight irritation? How would you describe it?”
“Yes.” He said taking a breath to think, “Piercing…as if something is stabbing me from the inside out.”
“How are you keeping your calm?” She asked mildly astonished that he was sitting there with that much pain.
“I’m used to the pain.” He shrugged, “And my Occulumency barriers are up.”
“Occulumency? As in mind magic?” She asked now fully interested, “When did you learn that?”
“This summer. Remus said I needed to learn it. Andromeda gave me a few basic lessons on how to get started, it was surprisingly easy to learn.”
Hermione was now in deep thought, “Harry, I think you ought to tell Dumbledore that your scar is hurting.”
“No, Dumbledore has enough on his mind.” He said, not elaborating his arrangement with the headmaster.
Hermione sighed at him, “Harry, you have to…”
He interrupted her, “Trust me on this, will you?” She pouted at him and then huffed.
He got to his feet. “I'm going to bed. Tell Ron for me, will you?”
“Oh no.” Hermione said looking relieved, “If you're going that means I can go too, without being rude. I'm absolutely exhausted and I want to make some more hats tomorrow. Listen, you can help me if you like, it's quite fun, I'm getting better, I can do patterns and bobbles and all sorts of things now.”
Harry looked into her face, which was shining with glee, and tried to look as though he was vaguely tempted by this offer.
“Knitting? Do I have to?” He grimaced.
She crossed her arms, “You don’t have to. You could help me if you want to.”
He knew that she was trying to guilt him into helping out, but he wasn’t very keen on it, “I don’t know how to knit. I’ll have to learn it from scratch.”
By now, Hermione spoke as if she was convinced that he was learning with her, “We can learn together. It’s a good skill to have under your sleeve.”
Harry wanted to groan, but he caught himself from slipping, “Where am I ever going to use knitting techniques on?”
At that, Hermione’s smirk grew wider into a grin, almost as if he had fallen into her trap, “You said you wanted to be a healer. If you knew how to knit quickly, you could do stitches easily. Who knows how good you can become if you could stitch quickly with precision?”
She had turned his argument on him, he was now aware that there was no way out of this. “Fine.” He grumbled glumly, as he turned on his spot and he traipsed off to the boys' stairs, leaving her to grin victoriously.
Saturday…
Making straight for his favourite squashy old armchair beside the now extinct fire, Harry settled himself down comfortably and unrolled his parchment while looking around the room. The debris that usually covered the common room at the end of each day was gone, as were all of Hermione's woolly hats. Wondering vaguely how many elves had now been set free whether they wanted to be or not. Harry took his fountain pen, then held it suspended an inch above the smooth yellowish surface of his parchment, thinking hard…but after a minute or so he found himself staring into the empty grate, at a complete loss for what to say.
He sat quite motionless for a while, gazing into the fireplace, and then, finally coming to a decision, he dipped his quill into the ink bottle once more and set it resolutely on the parchment.
Dear Snuffles,
Hope you're OK, the first week back here's been awfully busy, I'm really glad it's the weekend. We've got a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Umbridge. She's nearly as nice as your mum. I have a few concerns about the connection we discussed this summer. I’ll have ‘it’ ready for tonight at twelve.
Best,
Harry
The sun was high in the sky by the time he entered the Owlery. The straw-covered floor crunched a little as he stepped across tiny animal bones, craning his neck for a sight of Hedwig.
“There you are.” He said, spotting her somewhere near the very top of the vaulted ceiling. “Get down here, I've got a letter for you.”
With a low hoot, she stretched her great white wings and soared down on to his shoulder.
“Right, I know this says Snuffles on the outside.” He told her, giving her the letter to clasp in her beak and, without knowing exactly why, whispering, “But it's for Sirius, OK?”
She blinked her amber eyes once and he took that to mean that she understood.
“Safe flight, then.” He said and he carried her to one of the windows; with a moment's pressure on his arm, Hedwig took off into the blindingly bright sky. He watched her until she became a tiny black speck and vanished.
Harry heard footsteps at the Owlery’s doorway, he turned to see Cho Chang holding a letter and a parcel in her hands.
“Hi.” He said automatically.
“Oh…hi.” She said breathlessly, a slight blush on her cheeks, “I didn't think anyone would be up here this early…I only remembered five minutes ago, it's my mum's birthday.” She held up the parcel for him to see.
“Right. Wish her a happy birthday for me.” He said lamely, not knowing what to say to her, he didn’t know anything about spending his mother’s birthday, and his past lives weren’t very close to their parents either, except maybe Lowden.
“Will do.” She said and selected one of the school barn owls. She coaxed it down on to her arm where it held out an obliging leg so that she could attach the parcel.
“It’s a nice day today.” He said, gesturing to the windows.
“Yeah.” Cho said as she let the owl fly from the window, “Good Quidditch conditions. I haven't been out all week, have you?”
He gave her a nod, “Yesterday, evening.”
“Hey, has Gryffindor got a new Keeper yet?” She asked now interested.
“Yes.” He said, “It's my friend Ron Weasley.”
“The Tornados-hater?” Cho asked rather casually, “Is he any good?”
“Yes, he is.” He replied honestly, “We’ll still need to practice to get the team functioning at full again.”
“Takes time, I guess.” Cho nodded in understanding, “Umm…have you decided where to go on our first date?”
“I had a few ideas. But do you have any suggestions?” Cho beamed at him when he asked her.
She was now blushing, “Have you ever been to Madam Puddifoot's?”
The name did not ring a bell, he shook his head, “I haven’t.”
Cho grabbed his arm and said dreamily, “Oh, you’ll love it.”
“I’m sure, I will.” He said before making his move. He slid his hand by the side of her neck, his thumb settling right under her earlobe, he leaned in capturing her lips with a tender brush of his own with a slight tilt of his head.
Cho closed her eyes, feeling herself being pushed against the doorframe as he laid claim of her lips as his own. She felt his other arm snaking behind her hip, pulling her towards him as they fell into a comfortable pace. When they broke for air, she opened her eyes to see him staring into her own with those brilliant emerald green eyes of his.
“Too much?” Harry asked her and she couldn’t comprehend what he was asking her.
His hand on the side of her neck burned her skin, or she felt like burning, she couldn't tell. Too much? He was asking her. Her brain had shut down, she hadn’t expected him to kiss her like that in the least, not that she didn’t like it, but her mind was still in shock. His playful smile began fading in her silence and began turning into one of worry, when he began pulling away, she panicked, she stood on her toes and practically stuck her lips on his. She felt him smile as they kissed, making her smile with him.
Harry knew pushing her further would not portray the message of him respecting her boundaries, he was taking a huge risk already, while it had paid off, he wasn’t keen on risking it again. When they broke for air, he gave her tender kisses on her neck, behind her ear as an apology for the sudden action.
She was giving him a breathless blushing smile, but in her eyes was uncertainty that he couldn’t quite place. He knew that she had liked it, but she clearly had doubts. With that in mind, he slowly pulled away, etching his playful smile for her to ease into. He carefully intertwined his fingers into hers and paused for her to tighten her grip to acknowledge it.
They left the Owlery together. As they walked, hand in hand, he felt her hand slowly tightening around his whilst blushing at him. As they stood at the entrance of a corridor that led towards the west wing of the castle, Cho said, “I'm going this way. Well, I'll…I'll see you around, Harry.”
“See you.” Cho leaned in and pecked him on his lips and grinned before turning on her heels and hurrying away with a skip in her steps.
The rest of the day went by in a haze as he, Ron and Hermione got around to their homework after lunch. Ron began on his dream diary, while he and Hermione worked on McGonagall’s Inanimatus Conjurus spell. When Hermione finished the essay on Sprout’s self-fertilising shrubs, he finished Sinistra’s essay on Jupiter’s Moons. As they were strolling to the great hall for dinner, he and Hermione were done with all of their homework, while Ron was trying to convince Hermione to lend him their homework so that he can refer it.
“Forget it, Ron! I’m not letting you see my or Harry’s homework. You’ll have to do this on your own.”
Ron immediately turned to him, “Mate, do something.”
“I can’t. She’s seized control of my bag.” He said bluntly.
Ron looked aggravated yet hopeful, “Can’t you get it?”
“Ron, I have problems of my own. She’s making me knit clothes for the elves, if you can get me out of that, I’ll get you my homework.” He made a deal.
“Why’s she making you knit clothes?” Ron looked positively confused.
“I don’t know,” He said tiredly, “…I somehow wound up agreeing to it.”
Hermione who was listening to them already had a plan in place as Ron asked her to get Harry out of the knitting. “If you take Harry’s place in knitting, I’ll let Harry go.”
Ron looked at him and then at Hermione and then at him, slowly weighed his options, “Sorry mate, I can’t think of anything worse than knitting. I’ll do the homework myself.”
“Ugh…” He groaned.
They took their seats and as they were halfway through dinner, he saw Ginny giving him glances, and when he caught her staring, her glance grew into a glare before turning. He quickly focused on his magic and allowed it to flow through the Inner Eye, opening it. He read her emotions for a few minutes before he turned to Hermione for an explanation.
“What’s wrong with Ginny?” He asked.
Hermione smiled, “She’s upset that you’re dating Cho.”
Ron had something to say despite the pie in his mouth, “Igh eagrhd oi nokked Cho.”
The only word he got out of that was ‘Cho’. Hermione sniffed her nose in disgust, “Swallow first, Ron.”
Ron swallowed but shot Hermione a glare before saying, “I heard you snogged Cho.”
He saw no point in denying it, if Ron knew then Cho most likely told her group of giggling friends, odds were the entire school knew by now. It also explained the looks he kept getting from girls as he made his way to the great hall.
“Yeah, this morning in the Owlery.” He said with a grin.
“Wicked!” Ron was looking impressed.
That’s when he felt it, a hint of something passing through Hermione, he almost missed it before she composed herself. What was this longing? He wondered. Was she jealous? He quickly ruled that out. She wasn’t jealous. The last time he felt this was when he had asked Cho on a date. Then it dawned on him, she was afraid that no one would find her desirable. He decided that he would find a way to help her.
He grinned at them but quickly grew serious as he leaned forward and whispered to them, “Tonight at twelve in the common room. We’re talking to Sirius. I want to know what’s going on.” Both Hermione and Ron nodded in agreement.
Dinner passed; their prefect rounds came to an end, and the common room became quiet as students vacated until they were the only ones left behind. At exactly twelve, Harry opened the Marauder’s Map and he checked to see if anyone was out that might interrupt them.
When they were sure, he opened his Mokeskin pouch to pull out a small mirror the size of his palm and he whispered to it, “Moony, Padfoot and Prongs Junior.” The mirror expanded in size until it was the size of his elbow.
“Hermione, Ron, over here.” He called them and they came to sit beside him against the wall as they stared into the mirror.
They waited a few minutes before Sirius’s face appeared in the mirror, “Hey pup!”
“SSHHHH!!!” All three of them shushed simultaneously.
“Sirius, be quiet, this is us taking an awful risk…” Hermione began.
“You sound like Molly.” Sirius said, “This was why I made the mirrors for, and this is the only way I could come up with answering Harry’s letter without resorting to a code…and codes are breakable.”
At the mention of Harry's letter, Hermione and Ron both turned to stare at him.
“You didn't say you'd written to Sirius!” Hermione said accusingly.
“I forgot.” He shrugged, which was perfectly true; his meeting with Cho in the Owlery had turned into something hot and memorable, he had every right to forget it, “Don't look at me like that, Hermione. I had a snogging session with Cho, I had a good reason to forget. Besides, there was no way anyone would have got the secret information out of it, was there, Sirius?”
“No, it was very good.” Sirius was smiling, “Now what is this about snogging, I hear?”
At that, he grinned, “I’ve been snogging this girl, Cho Chang, it just began today.”
“Is she cuter than that French witch you pulled that day, in Delectat?” Sirius asked enthusiastically.
Hermione and Ron looked at him as if he was mad, his eyes widened since he realised that he hadn’t told either Ron or Hermione about his trip to France this summer.
Ron looked proud, “What have you been doing this summer, mate?” Hermione was frowning sharply, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“I’ll tell you both later.” He said before turning to Sirius, “Yes, she is cute. And Sirius you know I didn't shag her.”
“Then why did I think that you did?” Sirius asked looking genuinely confused.
“Because you shamelessly seduced and groped a French witch, and then shagged her two days straight.” He deadpanned back.
“Oh, yeah…” Sirius grinned at first, but then went into his thoughts as he said distractedly, “I forgot about that.”
“Ugh…”
Sirius then shook his head out of the stupor and continued, “Anyway, we'd better be quick, just in case we're disturbed, now the thing about your scar.”
“What about…?” Ron began, but Hermione interrupted him, “We'll tell you afterwards. Go on, Sirius.”
“Well, I know it can't be fun when it hurts, but we don't think it's anything to worry about. It kept aching all last year, didn't it?”
“Yeah, and Dumbledore said it happened whenever Voldemort was feeling a powerful emotion.” Harry said ignoring, as usual, when Ron and Hermione winced, “So maybe he’s just been, I dunno, really angry or something lately.”
“Well, now that he's back, and considering your blood connection, it's bound to hurt more often…” Sirius replied thoughtfully.
Harry nodded in understanding, he quickly decided to change the topic, “So, what can you tell us about Umbridge?”
“I know the woman by reputation and I’m sure she's no Death Eater…”
“She's foul enough to be one.” Hermione said darkly, and Ron and he nodded vigorously in agreement.
“Yes, but the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters.” Sirius replied with a wry smile, “I know she's a nasty piece of work, though…you should hear Moony talk about her.”
“Does Remus know her?” He asked quickly, remembering Umbridge's comments about dangerous half-breeds during her first lesson.
“No.” Sirius said, “…but she drafted a bit of anti-werewolf legislation two years ago that makes it almost impossible for him to get a job.”
Harry remembered how much shabbier Remus looked before opening the Apothecary and his dislike for Umbridge deepened even further in an instant. And then something else made sense.
“Is that why Remus’s anonymously running the Marauders’ Den?” He asked because it all made sense now. Remus was afraid that if people were to find out that the Apothecary was run by a Lycanthrope, then the Ministry would shut him down. After all the original idea behind opening the Apothecary was to make sure that Remus had the ingredients and resources to make enough Wolfsbane potion for one week before each full moon.
Sirius nodded, “Yes. That’s why Penelope’s running the store, while he’s helping her out with the offshore trade deals and finances remotely.”
Hermione’s brows furrowed, “Penelope?” She had a clue to who it was.
Harry smirked at that, “Penelope Clearwater. It’s been hard for her to find work at the Ministry, so Remus hired her to run the Apothecary, she’s been doing a great job. I’ll tell you the details later.”
Hermione agreed to that, but she did look like she would be making him spill the beans later, she turned to Sirius, “What's Umbridge got against werewolves?” Hermione asked angrily.
“Scared of them, I expect…” Sirius replied smiling at her indignation, “Apparently she loathes part-humans; she campaigned to have merpeople rounded up and tagged last year, too. Imagine wasting your time and energy persecuting merpeople when there are little toerags like Kreacher on the loose.”
Ron laughed but Hermione looked upset, while he winced at Sirius’s comment about the elf seeing Hermione’s expression.
“Sirius!” She said reproachfully, “Honestly if you made a bit of an effort with Kreacher, I'm sure he'd respond. After all, you are the only member of his family he's got left, and Professor Dumbledore said…”
“So, what are Umbridge's lessons like?” Sirius interrupted her, “Is she training you all to kill half-breeds?”
“No.” Harry said, ignoring Hermione's affronted look at being cut off in her defence of Kreacher. “She's not letting us use magic at all!”
“All we do is read the stupid textbook.” Ron added.
“Ah, well, that figures.” Sirius didn’t seem surprised, “Our information from inside the Ministry is that Fudge doesn't want you trained in combat.”
“Trained in combat?” Harry repeated incredulously, “What does he think we're doing here, forming some sort of wizard army?”
“That's exactly what he thinks you're doing.” Sirius confirmed to his horror, “Or, rather, that's exactly what he's afraid Dumbledore's doing. He thinks Dumbledore’s forming his own private army, with which he will be able to take on the Ministry of Magic.”
There was a pause at this, then Ron laughed, “That's the most stupid thing I've ever heard, including all the stuff that Luna Lovegood comes out with.”
“Say that again, Ron.” He said smoothly, while Ron awkwardly gulped at the glare he gave.
Hermione ignored them both and continued while looking furious, “So we're being prevented from learning Defence Against the Dark Arts because Fudge is scared, we'll use spells against the Ministry?”
“Yep.” Sirius confirmed again, “Fudge thinks Dumbledore will stop at nothing to seize power. He's getting more paranoid about Dumbledore by the day. It's a matter of time before he has Dumbledore arrested on some trumped-up charge.”
Now that made no sense to him, so he asked the only logical question he could ask, “Who’s putting these thoughts in Fudge’s head?”
“Who else? Our dear friend, Lucius Malfoy, obviously.” Sirius frowned as he said it, “His wife, my dear cousin Narcissa had been trying to contact Andromeda, under the guise of finding out why she’s suddenly been removed from the Black Family tree, my guess is Narcissa’s probably trying to trap her. You should talk to her. She’s been looking forward to your call all week.”
Harry only shook his head, “Not now. I’ll call her tomorrow, but tell her to be careful.”
Sirius nodded, “Will do,” then his godfather’s eyes brightened, “How’s the animagus training going?”
He tried to stop Sirius from saying it out loud, but it was too late, now Hermione and Ron were looking at him, clearly, the looks said, ‘You have a lot to explain, mister.’ Sirius looked abashed as he sighed dejectedly.
“It’s going well.” Harry finally said slowly glaring at his godfather, while the said man was trying his hardest to hold back chuckles.
Hermione said in a sickly-sweet voice mimicking Umbridge, “We’ll discuss this, later.”
“Oh nooo…” He groaned.
Hermione quickly asked Sirius, “So you haven't had any news about Hagrid, either?”
“Ah…” Sirius said, “…well, he was supposed to be back by now, no one's sure what's happened to him. But Dumbledore's not worried, so don't you three get yourselves in a state; I'm sure Hagrid's fine.”
“But if he was supposed to be back by now…” Hermione said in a small, anxious voice.
“Madame Maxime was with him, we've been in touch with her and she says they got separated on the journey home, but there's nothing to suggest he's hurt or anything,” Sirius did not convince any of them, they all gave worried glances.
“Listen, kids, don't go asking too many questions about Hagrid.” Sirius said seriously.
“It'll just draw even more attention to the fact that he's not back and I know Dumbledore doesn't want that. Hagrid's tough, he'll be just fine.” They all nodded but none of them was convinced.
Sirius noticed their worries, but said nothing more, “We’ll arrange a meeting at Hogsmeade very soon. I’ll let you know. And pup, don’t send Hedwig, she’s too noticeable. Use one of the school owls if need be. I’ve gotta go now. There’s a lady upstairs who needs my attention.” Sirius said with a lecherous grin.
“EWWW!!!” All three of them revolted in disgust, none of them needed that picture in their head.
“See you later, kids!” With that, Sirius was gone and the mirror shrunk back into his palm. Just as soon as he put the mirror back into his Mokeskin pouch, Hermione and Ron stood over him in a cornering way.
“Will it help if I said that I’m no longer upset about you both not contacting me this summer?” Harry asked hopefully.
“NO!” They both said in unison.
Harry let out a resigned sigh; he was in for a long night.