Chapter Seven – Punishment

All belongs to Ms. Rowling. We're both blonde and British, but she is rich and famous, sadly I'm not =(

They arrived at her office, and knocked. A voice called for them to enter, and the door opened. Inside the office, there were no strange instruments like Kingsley's office or tiny furniture like in Flitwick office. Instead, there was a desk, some chairs and cabinets, all finished in a light shade of walnut.

McGonogall looked up and glared at the students, this was her only free lesson of the week, and it looked like she was going to lose that on account of the four students standing in front of her desk.

'Erm, Professor McGonogall, we are terribly sorry to interrupt like this, but Ron has been very violent towards us.' Hermione began politely, Malfoy interrupted.

'Professor, he slapped Hermione, punched Harry and hit me in the stomach. We had to stop him, and we thought the best course of action was to take him to his head of house,' Draco continued.

'Well, Mr Weasley, is this true?'

'Yes, it is, and they deserved it!' Ron spluttered.

'Muggle duelling will never be dually deserved. You may have failed to notice, but you are in your last year here at Hogwarts. You should be setting an example to the younger witches and wizards. Instead, I find myself having to reprimand you over things that I would not even expect from a first year. I am going to give you a severe punishment.'

She thought it over in her head and realised what the best course of action was.

'I am going to have to write to your parents regarding this moronic behaviour, and you have triple detentions with Filch, helping to clean the castle without magic. I also expect you to write apology letters to each of your victims. I can only hope that you will eventually grow up. Now Weasley, get out of my office.'

He turned to go, meanwhile cursing the headmistress under his breath. When the door was shut, McGonogall spoke again.

'I appreciate you three reporting this to me. If you are still in any pain, feel free to go to the Hospital Wing at any time. I only have one question. Why is he so angry?'

Hermione blushed and Draco looked confused, so Harry took it upon himself to answer.

'Well professor, you see, he thinks that Hermione and Malfoy,' at this he corrected himself,' Sorry, Hermione and Draco, he believes that they will become girlfriend and boyfriend. Ron likes Hermione quite a lot, so he is, in my opinion, jealous. He was angry with me, because he thought I was on Hermione's side.'

'Well, there isn't much we can do about that. Oh, and Potter, here is the list for the applicants for the Quidditch team. I haven't set a date for trials, but next week would be advisable.'

And with that, they walked out of her office. Hermione looking at her feet. Draco looking at his feet. Harry wishing he could be anywhere but here. No one mentioned anything, but it was clear that the jealousy was not unfounded, or at least, Harry thought he saw a twinkle in Draco Malfoy's eye when he looked up. They realised how late they were for their lesson, Herbology. They swiftly made their way towards the greenhouses, and eventually seeing their class in Greenhouse Six, entered.

Professor nodded at them, but didn't say anything about their lateness, so it was obvious she had been told or at least guessed what was going on. Apparently, they were attempting to breed Infestus Folium, a dangerous plant, but the leaves can cure blindness. Evidently a helpful thing to have, especially when considering, as Hermione was, the Healing career path.

It was only half way through the lesson when Neville had filled up his bottle completely, he excelled in Herbology. Draco Malfoy was still below the half way mark; Harry and Hermione had almost reached Neville's stage. Professor Sprout was pleased with Gryffindor, for their efforts in the lesson so gave each pupil in the house ten points. One hundred points, in the first week, they were going to win the house cup this year. They could feel it in their bones.

When the bell rang, they began to meander slowly towards the main castle, for an exhausting History of Magic lesson. Harry had been offered a place in this class, because his knowledge had updated well enough in the quest last year. He had discovered things that came up in NEWT exams, so was at least on an even par with the likes of Hermione and Ernie. There were only seven people bored (or in Hermione's case, interested) enough to take this class. Draco, Hermione, Ernie Macmillan, Blaise Zabini, Oliver Cresswell, Melinda Bobbin and of course, Harry himself.

Professor Binns was the only ghost teacher, but this didn't stop him from being the most boring thing in twenty miles. Harry honestly tried to pay attention, but after about fifteen minutes, he had dozed off. Hermione decided to copy out notes for both of them. She knew how boring Binns was, and it was astonishing to find Harry lasting that long. It was only a few minutes with Ron around.

The bell rang and everyone jumped up, hurriedly writing their homework down. A foot of parchment about Godric Gryffindor. They had learnt so much about him last year on their adventures, that even Harry might be able to write extra.

Lunch at last! They were starving, but yet again Ron was nowhere to be seen. This struck Harry and Hermione as extremely odd; he was not the sort of person to miss a meal out of choice. Hermione and Harry were beginning to feel worried. They shoved their lunch down their throats and rushed to the Gryffindor common room. He wasn't there, so they both ventured up to the boys dormitories. They looked around, and immediately saw a lump under his duvet.

Neither of them had quite forgiven him yet, so upon realising that he wasn't going to do something stupid, they climbed the stairs to the common room.

'Harry, do you want to get a drink in my common room?'

'Erm, alright, we still have half an hour, so I mind as well.'

They went across to Godric Gryffindor's portrait, and Hermione said the password 'Diagon.' Harry had never spared a thought to the portrait before, and only now had he realised that he had seen the head boy or girl standing near it before. He was intrigued at how much the man resembled him.

He had messy jet-black hair, round glasses and fair skin. He seemed skinny and short, like Harry and he was brandishing a wand that looked very similar to his own, at least in colour and length. The only differences were the eyes; Godric had light brown eyes whereas Harry had emerald green (inherited from Lily, his mother), and the lack of a scar on his forehead.

They entered the Head's common room, and Hermione summoned two butterbeers. Every time he tasted it, it seemed like his insides were warming up. It had the taste of butterscotch, yet slightly less sweet. They drank it, and talked about Ginny and Draco and Ron. They talked about NEWTS, jobs and families. It seemed like only minutes had passed when they heard the bell go, and rushed off to their lesson.

Next was Defence Against the Dark Arts, an amazing lesson. Professor Shacklebolt really knew how to keep his class interested.

They walked into his classroom, and noticed immediately that Ron was still not in class. He probably thought everyone would stare at him, which was true, but they were just starting rumours and talking about him. Both Hermione and Harry still felt bitter about his attack that morning, and they predicted that Draco felt the same. Draco had expressed concern for Hermione in the corridor, something he would have scoffed at doing years ago.

They were, once again, working on the Unforgivable Curses, except that this time, it wasn't a deranged Death Eater casting it on them, it was a calm, Auror trained teacher showing them moving diagrams of the effects of each curse, and telling them the terms in Azkaban for casting each one.

The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher decided not to give much them homework, as he knew that the whole class had taken in what he had said, so he instead just asked them to read the chapter on the curses out of their textbooks.

They both wondered down to the potions dungeon, Slughorn was waiting for them. He had evidently learnt the secret of Harry's potion success, but didn't seem to mind. He felt that the boy should have been placed in Slytherin with the cunningness he had deployed to beat the rest of the class.

The teacher had promised himself that he would not ignore Harry, but treat him like normal, whilst encouraging him to put his best efforts into this delicate art. Today, they were brewing Blood Replenishing Potion, another good one to know for a career in healing or fighting.

Harry got his ingredients; beetle eyes, bundimon secretion, crocodile hearts and flobberworm mucus. He boiled the water and added the ingredients, giving seven counter-clockwise stirs between adding each item. The book said that the potion was supposed to turn a creamy yellow when finished. To Harry's immense surprise, it turned exactly the colour described. He poured some in a bottle, and made his way up to the professor's desk.

Harry was very pleased with the result, as was Slughorn. He awarded the boy ten points, and showed the class what their potion was supposed to look like. Hermione finished her potion next, and was given five points.

No homework was given, much to the classes' satisfaction. Hermione was happy for Harry. He had proved to himself that he could make excellent potions without that book, and it seemed that he could exceed at Potions without Snape. She felt bad at thinking badly about the deceased professor, but she couldn't help her emotions.