A/N Ahh, so it's been 39 days since I added the last chapter to doc manager ... I am very sorry, I've had some writer's block with the seventh year, but it doesn't really give an excuse, as I could have updated this one. But life has been v. busy at the moment and it's been pushed to the back of my mind! So I hope you enjoy the chapter and don't forget to review! Sorry about the long wait xxx
Chapter Ten
N.E.W.T Level
Amara and Hermione waited for Harry and Ron in the common room before breakfast the next day. Amara had actually got up on time that day, but it may have been because it was the first day and she was eager to see her new N.E.W.T classes.
Amara told Hermione about Hagrid expecting them to be at his lesson, and she looked scandalised.
"But none of us are taking it," she said anxiously. "Surely he guessed that? Oh no, he's going to be so upset ..."
But they stopped their conversation as Harry and Ron met them and Harry immediately told Hermione about Malfoy's conversation on the train. As soon as he'd finished, Ron was quick to interject.
"But he was obviously showing off for Parkinson, wasn't he?"
"Well," Hermione said uncertainly, "I don't know. . . . It would be like Malfoy to make himself seem more important than he is . . . but that's a big lie to tell. . . ."
"Exactly," said Harry.
Amara has just noticed that a crowd had formed around them, listening intently to what Harry was saying and whispering about him behind their hands.
"It's rude to point," Ron snapped at a particularly minuscule first-year boy as they joined the queue to climb out of the portrait hole. The small boy, who had been muttering something about Harry behind his hand to his friend, promptly turned scarlet and toppled out of the hole in alarm. Ron and Amara sniggered together.
"I love being a sixth year. And we're going to be getting free time this year. Whole periods when we can just sit up here and relax."
"We're going to need that time for studying, Ron!" said Hermione, as they set off down the corridor.
"Yeah, but not today," said Ron. "Today's going to be a real doss, I reckon."
"Hope so," said Amara, nodding.
"Hold it!" said Hermione, throwing out an arm and halting a passing fourth year, who was attempting to push past her with a lime-green disk clutched tightly in his hand.
"Fanged Frisbees are banned, hand it over," Hermione told the boy sternly. The fourth head scowled deeply but then handed over the Fanged Frisbee in annoyance. He then ducked under Hermione's arm and ran off towards his friends.
Ron waited for him to vanish, then tugged the Frisbee from Hermione's grip.
"Excellent, I've always wanted one of these."
Amara laughed at him, but she was not the only one. A loud giggle had overthrown her laugh and the four of them turned in surprise to see Lavender walking past, obviously thinking that Ron's comment was very amusing. Raising an eyebrow, Amara watched Lavender pass with Parvati, looking behind her at Ron at different intervals. Amara scowled at her, and the next time Lavender looked back she saw her scowl, flushed and hurried off.
"What was that about?" Ron said, confused. Amara shrugged in response and they entered the Great Halls shortly after. The sky was blue and had wispy clouds on it that morning as they looked up at the ceiling.
Amara told Harry and Ron that she had told Hermione about Hagrid.
"It was really embarrassing," said Ron as he loaded his plate.
"But he can't really think we'd continue Care of Magical Creatures!" Hermione said, looking distressed again. "I mean, when has any of us expressed . . . you know . . . any enthusiasm?"
"That's it, though, innit?" said Ron, swallowing an entire fried egg whole. This Amara found this rather impressive and slid another egg onto his plate to see if he could do it again. "We were the ones who made the most effort in classes because we like Hagrid. But he thinks we liked the stupid subject. D'you reckon anyone's going to go on to N.E.W.T.?"
They didn't answer because they all knew it already: nobody in their year had liked Care of Magical Creatures and no one wanted to carry it on when Hagrid was teaching them. Amara supposed Professor Kettleburn had been better because even Fred and George had done it, though they had stolen a Salamander one time.
It was hard avoiding the giant's eye throughout breakfast, and they only waved back flimsily when he left the table.
After they'd eaten (Amara had watched Ron eat another two fried eggs) they stayed where they were. Professor McGonagall had to give them specialised timetables because they each had different ones now they'd done their O. . Amara saw Tessie speed off towards her first Charms class and Ethan to his Potions lesson.
Professor McGonagall went down the names alphabetically, so Hermione was the first to get cleared for Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Potions, and she shot off to an Ancient Runes class with a rushed 'goodbye'.
Neville took a little longer to sort out and Amara, Ron and Harry had to wait until he'd finished.
"Herbology, fine," Professor McGonagall said, consulting his results. "Professor Sprout will be delighted to see you back with an 'Outstanding' O.W.L. And you qualify for Defence Against the Dark Arts with 'Exceeds Expectations.' But the problem is Transfiguration. I'm sorry, Longbottom, but an 'Acceptable' really isn't good enough to continue to N.E.W.T level. I just don't think you'd be able to cope with the coursework."
Neville hung his head. Professor McGonagall peered at him through her square spectacles.
"Why do you want to continue with Transfiguration, anyway? I've never had the impression that you particularly enjoyed it."
Neville looked miserable and muttered something about "my grandmother wants."
"Hmph," snorted Professor McGonagall. "It's high time your grandmother learned to be proud of the grandson she's got, rather than the one she thinks she ought to have — particularly after what happened at the Ministry."
Neville turned very pink and blinked confusedly and Amara smiled. It was nice for McGonagall to give Neville a compliment - he definitely deserved it.
"I'm sorry, Longbottom, but I cannot let you into my N.E.W.T. class. I see that you have an 'Exceeds Expectations' in Charms, however — why not try for a N.E.W.T. in Charms?"
"My grandmother thinks Charms is a soft option," mumbled Neville.
"Take Charms," said Professor McGonagall, "and I shall drop Augusta a line reminding her that just because she failed her Charms O.W.L., the subject is not necessarily worthless." Smiling slightly at the look of delighted incredulity on Neville's face, Professor McGonagall tapped a blank timetable with the tip of her wand and handed it, now carrying details of his new classes, to Neville.
Amara was next, before Parvati, and McGonagall peered at her results with a small smile.
"I was delighted with your Transfiguration mark, Miss Matthews, I heard that it was probable that you got full marks ... That's fine ... And Charms and Ancient Runes are fine as well - Professor Flitwick was talking about you mark too. Hmm ... Ah yes, and an 'Outstanding' in Potions! So that's Potions, Herbology and Defence Against the Dark Arts all fine as well," she tapped the timetable and handed it over.
Amara said goodbye to Harry and Ron and walked out of the Great Hall. She had Ancient Runes first, so she walked up to the classroom at a much slower pace than Hermione.
Amara found her queuing up outside with a few others who had continued on. At that moment, Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones and Daphne Greengrass were the only ones waiting to go inside, but as it neared to the time the lesson started, more had showed up, including Padma Patil and Sophie Roper.
Once inside Amara and Hermione chose seats on a table with the old DA members: Hannah, Susan, Padma, Terry and Anthony.
Professor Babbling, once entering the classroom, started the lesson by expressing how delighted she was with the results they received and how proud she was seeing the people carrying Ancient Runes on. After making everyone feel slightly better about themselves she proceeded in telling them just how hard N.E. were and how everyone needed to put their full attention on keeping up to date.
"It is a crucial time in your life," Professor Babbling said. "Remember to pull yourselves together and achieve more."
She gave them a translation to 'start off the year' but it turned out to be very, very hard and their whole table struggled, even though they were the best in the class. Padma Patil, who was the best in the class apart from Hermione, got so frustrated by how hard it was she nearly burnt the parchment with her wand.
To make matters worse, Professor Babbling then gave them homework which could take the whole weekend: a fifteen inch essay which Amara thought was the best, two translations and Professor Babbling have them a stack of books to read by Wednesday.
Groaning, they all left the lesson in a bad mood, and those taking Defence Against the Dark Arts headed straight to the lesson.
They were one of the first there, and Harry and Ron only turned up when the bell was about to ring.
"We got so much homework for Runes," Hermione told Harry and Ron anxiously. "A fifteen-inch essay, two translations, and we've got to read these by Wednesday!"
"Shame," yawned Ron.
"Shut up," said Amara. "Bet you Snape'll give us some."
Snape chose that moment to open the door and step out into the corridor. He looked as bad as always - in fact Amara was sure his hair was even greasier than last time. There was silence as he stared at them all.
"Inside," Snape said.
Over the five years Amara had already been there for the classroom had changed every time. Though she was please Umbridge had gone, seeing the grisly pictures on the all and having the curtains drawn didn't exactly excite her for the lesson. In contrary she felt a sense of foreboding.
They all sat down and got out their books, squinting in the candle-light and not speaking to one another.
"I have not asked you to take out your books," said Snape, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk; Hermione hastily dropped her copy of Confronting the Faceless back into her bag and stowed it under her chair. Amara copied but didn't hide the fact she'd already got it out. She didn't care as much as Hermione. "I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention."
His black eyes roved over their upturned faces, and Amara did not find it very nice. It was as though he was examining how stupid they were.
"You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe." Snape said. "Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced."
Snape set off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view.
"The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."
Was he trying to make an impression? Amara thought, unconvinced. She would rather have liked to hex him in his face, but she resisted.
"Your defences," said Snape, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures" — he indicated a few of them as he swept past — "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse" — he waved a hand toward a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony — "feel the Dementor's Kiss" — a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed, slumped against a wall — "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius" — a bloody mass upon the ground.
Sounds like Harry Amara thought as she watched him stroll around the room. She didn't fancy telling the boy that.
"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" said Parvati in a high-pitched voice. "Is it definite, is he using them?"
"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," said Snape, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now . . ."
He set off again around the other side of the classroom toward his desk, and again, they watched him as he walked, his dark robes billowing behind him.
". . . you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of nonverbal spells. What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?"
Hermione's hand shot into the air. Snape took his time looking around at everybody else, making sure he had no choice, before saying curtly, "Very well — Miss Granger?"
"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," said Hermione, "which gives you a split-second advantage."
"An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six," said Snape dismissively, "but correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some lack."
Snape seemed to be staring maliciously at Harry, who glared back until Snape looked away.
"You will now divide," Snape went on, "into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."
Harry and Ron went together so Amara went with Hermione. It as a good thing Harry had taught them the Shield Charm the year before, and it definitely came as an advantage as half the class were old DA members.
As Snape expected them to do it non-verbally on the very first lesson there was plenty of cheating involved, people whispering the incantation instead of saying it aloud. Some people were purple in the face for trying so hard (including Ron, who was pressing his lips together so hard in an attempt to not speak) and even Amara found it seemingly impossible to do it herself.
Hermione managed to shoot a Jelly Legs Jinx at her ten minutes into the lesson which Snape ignored. Amara had to mutter the counter-curse and felt more determined to do it.
She managed to make a very weak shield charm five minutes later but she knew it needed a lot of work. She was about to try again when Snape spoke from by Harry and Ron.
"Pathetic, Weasley," said Snape. "Here — let me show you —"
He turned his wand on Harry so fast Amara was surprised he even reacted.
"Protego!" Harry yelled. His Shield Charm was so strong Snape was knocked off-balance and hit a desk. The whole class had looked around and now watched as Snape righted himself, scowling.
"Do you remember me telling you we are practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?" He snapped.
"Yes," said Harry stiffly.
"Yes, sir."
"There's no need to call me 'sir,' Professor."
Amara couldn't help but grin at Harry's quip behind Snape's back. Ron, Dean and Seamus did the same, but Hermione and some other people gasped, probably because they were scared of what Snape was going to do to Harry next.
"Detention, Saturday night, my office," said Snape. "I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter . . . not even 'the Chosen One.' "
"That was brilliant, Harry!" chortled Ron, once they were safely on their way to break a short while later.
"Did you see his face?" Amara sniggered as they walked.
"You really shouldn't have said it," said Hermione, frowning at Ron and Amara. "What made you?"
"He tried to jinx me, in case you didn't notice!" fumed Harry. "I had enough of that during those Occlumency lessons! Why doesn't he use another guinea pig for a change? What's Dumbledore playing at, anyway, letting him teach Defence? Did you hear him talking about the Dark Arts? He loves them! All that unfixed, indestructible stuff —"
"Well," said Hermione, "I thought he sounded a bit like you."
"Like me?" Harry looked shocked at the very thought.
"Yes, when you were telling us what it's like to face Voldemort. You said it wasn't just memorizing a bunch of spells, you said it was just you and your brains and your guts — well, wasn't that what Snape was saying? That it really comes down to being brave and quick-thinking?"
Harry didn't say anything else - he seemed too shocked about being linked to Snape. Ron and Amara were still grinning about what he'd said and Hermione was frowning at them.
"Harry! Hey, Harry!"
They all turned around. Jack Sloper, one of Gryffindor's Beaters from the year before, and was awful, was running towards then. He was also holding a piece of parchment which he held out in front of them.
"For you," panted Sloper. "Listen, I heard you're the new Captain. When're you holding trials?"
"I'm not sure yet," said Harry, and Amara felt it there was only a slim chance of him getting back on the team. "I'll let you know."
"Oh, right. I was hoping it'd be this weekend —"
It did not seem that Harry was listening to what Sloper was saying: he completely bypassed him and hurried off with the three others hurrying behind. He unrolled the parchment and Amara leant in to read it.
Dear Harry,
I would like to start our private lessons this Saturday.
Kindly come along to my office at 8 P.M. I hope you are enjoying your first day back at school.
Yours sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
P.S. I enjoy Acid Pops.
"He enjoys Acid Pops?" said Ron, who had read the message over Harry's shoulder too and was now looking perplexed.
"It's the password to get past the gargoyle outside his study," said Harry in a low voice. "Ha! Snape's not going to be pleased. . . . I won't be able to do his detention!"
Their break time was spent with them discussing eagerly about what Dumbledore was going to teach Harry that evening. Ron thought he'd get taught jinxes and hexes which no Death Eater could use, and Amara said that if that was the case, he should teach them the jinxes and hexes too, but Hermione said they were illegal and he'd probably teach him advanced Defensive magic. Ron and Amara found this boring and decided the extend the talk on spectacular jinxes and hexes and making up spells which could be useful.
Amara had a free period after break so she joined Harry and Ron in the common room whilst Hermione went to Arithmancy.
Considering she already had a lot of homework, Amara speeded through her Ancient Runes work during the period, whilst Harry and Ron struggled with Snape's homework. Amara had just started hers when Hermione joined them after lunch, and though it was complex, Amara managed to catch up fairly quickly.
Pleased with her progress, she walked down to by Potions classroom with Harry, Ron and Hermione.
Once they had arrived they found that only a few people in their year had progressed onto N.E.W.T level Potions. Apart from Amara, Ron, Harry and Hermione, no other Gryffindors had elected the subject; Terry Boot, Michael Corner and two other Ravenclaw girls were there as well as Ernie Macmillian, a pompous Hufflepuff whom Amara liked and was a friend of hers. Crabbe and Goyle were too stupid to have continued with Potions, as only Malfoy was there with Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini and Tracey Davis.
"Harry," Ernie had come over to say hello. He held out his hand for him to take. "didn't get a chance to speak in Defence Against the Dark Arts this morning. Good lesson, I thought, but Shield Charms are old hat, of course, for us old D.A. lags . . . And how are you, Ron, Amara — Hermione?"
They replied only with a small "fine" because Slughorn's large belly had come out the door as it had opened. When they walked in Professor Slughorn greeted Harry and Blaise Zabini with a lot of enthusiasm, and Amara knew that it was because he was already his favourites.
There were already vapours and smells as they entered the dungeon, and Amara looked at the cauldrons in interest. The Slytherins and Ravenclaws took tables together so the four Gryffindors squished onto a table with Ernie. They sat on one with a gold-coloured cauldron with a beautiful smell coming out of it - Amara breathed in the smell of coffee beans, summer air and a smell which reminded her oddly of Fred Weasley. Amara, with a little flush, figured the potion was Amortentia, a powerful love potion.
Amara couldn't help but breathe in deeply and grin lazily.
"Now then, now then, now then," said Slughorn, whose massive outline was quivering through the many shimmering vapours. "Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making. . . ."
As Amara got all her things out of her bag, Harry raised his hand.
"Sir?" said Harry.
"Harry, m'boy?"
"I haven't got a book or scales or anything — nor's Ron — we didn't realize we'd be able to do the N.E.W.T., you see —"
"Ah, yes, Professor McGonagall did mention . . . not to worry, my dear boy, not to worry at all. You can use ingredients from the store cupboard today, and I'm sure we can lend you some scales, and we've got a small stock of old books here, they'll do until you can write to Flourish and Blotts. . . ."
Slughorn strode over to a corner cupboard and, after a moment's foraging, emerged with two very battered-looking copies of Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage, which he gave to Harry and Ron along with two sets of tarnished scales.
"Now then," said Slughorn, returning to the front of the class and inflating his already bulging chest so that the buttons on his waistcoat threatened to burst off, "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?"
He indicated the cauldron nearest the Slytherin table. It seemed that it was merely pure water inside it.
Hermione's well-practiced hand hit the air before anybody else's; Slughorn pointed at her.
"It's Veritaserum, a colourless, odourless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth," said Hermione.
"Very good, very good!" said Slughorn happily. "Now," he continued, pointing at the cauldron nearest the Ravenclaw table, "this one here is pretty well known. . . . Featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately too . . . Who can — ?"
Amara raised her hand too, be said she remembered the thick, bubbling mudlike substance from her second year.
Though Hermione's hand was fastest again, Slughorn pointed at Amara to answer.
"Polyjuice Potion," she answered and Slughorn beamed.
"Excellent, excellent! Now, this one here . . . yes, my dear?" said Slughorn as Hermione's hand punched the air again.
"It's Amortentia!"
"It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask," said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed, "but I assume you know what it does?"
"It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" said Hermione.
"Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"
"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," said Hermione enthusiastically, "and it's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and - and - well ..."
Hermione turned slightly pink and did not complete the sentence. Amara and Ron smirked.
"May I ask your name, my dear?" said Slughorn, ignoring Hermione's embarrassment.
"Hermione Granger, sir."
"Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"
"No, I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggle-born, you see."
Slughorn did it seem fazed and instead beamed at Hermione, then Harry.
"Oho! 'Two of my best friends are Muggle-borns, and they're the best in our year!' I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry? And you must be the other friend?"
He beamed at Amara, who smiled back.
"Yes, sir," said Harry.
"Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger," said Slughorn genially. "And what's your name?"
"Amara Matthews, sir," said Amara.
"Take another ten points," said Slughorn.
Hermione turned to Harry with a radiant expression and whispered, "Did you really tell him I'm the best in the year? Oh, Harry!"
"Don't forget Amara," Ron snorted. "It's not as though it's a lie though, is it?"
Slughorn stopped them from continuing by extending their knowledge on Amortentia.
"Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room — oh yes," he said, nodding gravely at Malfoy and Nott, both of whom were smirking sceptically. "When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love. . . .
"And now," said Slughorn, "it is time for us to start work."
"Sir, you haven't told us what's in this one," said Ernie, pointing at a small black cauldron standing on Slughorn's desk. The potion within was splashing about merrily; in fact, large splashes were jumping out, though nothing spilled over the edge. Amara looked inquisitively at the potion - it was the colour of molten gold and looked amazing.
"Oho," said Slughorn again. "Yes. That. Well, that one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis. I take it," he turned, smiling, to look at Hermione, who had let out an audible gasp, "that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger?"
"It's liquid luck," said Hermione excitedly. "It makes you lucky!"
The whole class seemed to sit up a little straighter. Amara did not know of this potion and she hadn't thought of one making someone lucky before.
"Quite right, take another ten points for Gryffindor. Yes, it's a funny little potion, Felix Felicis," said Slughorn. "Desperately tricky to make, and disastrous to get wrong. However, if brewed correctly, as this has been, you will find that all your endeavours tend to succeed . . . at least until the effects wear off."
"Why don't people drink it all the time, sir?" said Terry Boot eagerly.
"Because if taken in excess, it causes giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence," said Slughorn. "Too much of a good thing, you know . . . highly toxic in large quantities. But taken sparingly, and very occasionally . . ."
"Have you ever taken it, sir?" asked Michael Corner with great interest.
"Twice in my life," said Slughorn. "Once when I was twenty-four, once when I was fifty-seven. Two tablespoonfuls taken with breakfast. Two perfect days."
He gazed dreamily into the distance.
"And that," said Slughorn, apparently coming back to earth, "is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson."