"You're looking better," Cho said, falling into step beside Harry, as he and his friends walked to Defence. Cho's friends - Harry recognised the curly haired girl she'd watched tryouts with, but didn't know any of the others - were a few steps behind them, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw his own friends drop back as well... Or, Hermione did, and tugged Ron back with her. Draco was walking slowly anyway; he'd written Mr Malfoy a letter about Buckbeak and received a reply that morning, which he was reading now.

"You could've said you were Ravenclaw's Seeker," Harry said, ignoring Cho's comment. He'd been both surprised and a bit annoyed when Wood had pointed out Ravenclaw's new Seeker the week before, and realised he knew her.

"You might not have been so friendly if you knew we'd be competing." She did that thing she'd done last week, by the pitch, where she looked at him through her eyelashes. "I've seen how you are with Malfoy."

"Malfoy's a git," Harry said. Draco glanced up from his letter, expression wry. "And he has been since before he made the Slytherin team." Cho's lips twitched, but she glanced backward at Draco and didn't say anything. "Why did you talk to me?" Harry asked, curiously.

"Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to?" she asked.

"Maybe if you hadn't just been made Seeker," Harry said, trying not to sound rude. Thankfully, Cho didn't look offended.

"Roger asked me to," she said, cheeks going a pretty shade of pink.

"Why?" Harry asked, frowning.

"I'm- not sure," she said, and Harry didn't think she was being entirely truthful. She smelled a bit embarrassed, too.

"Right," he said. Wood had asked him about her last week, when he pointed her out; he'd seen Harry speaking with her before tryouts. When Harry confessed he'd never spoken to her before that, Wood had suggested that maybe Davies had hoped Cho might distract him. Harry didn't voice this, though, but from her sudden awkwardness, he now though Wood may have been onto something.

"So what about today?"

"Oh, no, he didn't ask me about today," she said, cheeks still pink.

"So why-?"

"I actually did just want to talk to you." She didn't look at him as she said it, and Harry was glad; he wasn't sure what his expression was; either shocked or confused, or awkward, or maybe all of those. "I just thought- I wanted to say congratulations, and that you flew well."

"Until I fell, anyway," Harry said, giving her a sideways look.

"That was awful," she said quietly. She reached out and gave his arm a squeeze, and Harry found he didn't mind. "But I think you did well anyway... And Wood obviously does as well, or you wouldn't have made the team." Harry wasn't sure what to say to that, so he shrugged.

"Hi, Harry!" Romilda Vane called, as she passed with a gaggle of her friends. She eyed Cho – and Cho's hand, which was still on Harry - and her expression became markedly less friendly.

Harry sighed and gave her a small wave, and just like that, her expression brightened again. Cho watched the exchange, apparently amused, and drew to a stop. Harry glanced at her.

"I've- Arithmancy is this way," she said. "So I've got to go... I'll see you around?"

"I- yeah, probably," he said.

"In the air, if nothing else," she said, with a smile. Harry smiled back genuinely, but a bit uncertain; Cho was different to girls like Hermione and Ginny, and he wasn't quite sure how to talk to her yet, or why she wanted to talk to him.

She and her friends started up the stairs, giggling. She and her friends did a lot of giggling, from what Harry had seen.

He slowed to let his friends catch up.

"Who's she?" Ron wanted to know. Hermione's expression was an odd mix of pleased, wary and thoughtful all at once, but she didn't say anything.

"Ravenclaw's Seeker," Harry said.

"Wow," Ron said, looking after the fourth year girls. Harry just nodded. "So what'd she want?"

"I'm not sure," Harry said honestly. "I asked her why she didn't tell me she was Seeker the last time we spoke and she congratulated me on getting back on the Gryffindor team, and that was it." He shrugged.

"Weird," Ron said, looking as baffled as Harry felt.

"You two are clueless," Hermione sighed. "She likes you, Harry."

"Really?" Harry asked, at the same time as Ron asked, "How do you know?"

"This is the second time she's sought him out to talk," Hermione said. "Obviously she's interested in spending time with him-"

"That doesn't mean she fancies him, though," Ron said reasonably. "Just that she wants to talk to him-"

"But she's never spoken to him before now-"

"Neither had you at one point. A friendship's got to start somewhere, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but she wasn't acting like she just wants friendship-"

"She only spoke to me at tryouts because Davies asked her to," Harry muttered, but neither of them were listening. They continued down the corridor, bickering, and Harry shook his head – part-fond, part-exasperated – and hung back to wait for Draco, hoping, perhaps, to hear what Mr Malfoy had had to say.

Thankfully, Draco didn't have anything to say about Cho or what she might want; in fact, from the way he was frowning, Harry thought he might have missed that conversation entirely. He massaged his temples.

"Another headache?" Harry asked, concerned.

"No," Draco said. "Thank Merlin. Just-" He offered Harry the letter. "-this."

It was shorter than Harry expected, given how long Draco had been poring over it:

Draco,

Moving as your letter was, I was not swayed, and frankly, am disturbed by your attitude towards the situation. The hippogriff attacked and maimed your brother, and whether he played a role in provoking it is irrelevant; it is volatile and dangerous, and continues to present a danger to you and the rest of the student body while it lives. For this reason I believe that the best course of action is to have the beast destroyed. Failure to do so places the students of Hogwarts at risk, and this is not to be condoned, when it can be so simply avoided.

The groundskeeper's fate is not in my hands; it is a matter for the Board, and for the Ministry. They will assess his suitability for the position of Professor of Care of Magical Creatures, though in the face of last week's incident I daresay it will be found lacking.

Regards,

Father

"Stupid," Draco said, when Harry looked up. "He is the Board, because they all listen to him anyway, so saying Hagrid's fate's got nothing to do with him's just rubbish. And if he's worried about it attacking students, what's wrong with sending it off to a reserve, or just setting it loose off the grounds?" From Draco's tone, Harry gathered that these had been suggestions in his initial letter. "He can't be reasoned with."

"We'll just have to find something, then." Harry wasn't sure when they'd find time, but at some point they'd surely be able to find something in the library that could help Buckbeak. Harry doubted last week's lesson was the first time someone had been attacked in Care of Magical Creatures. "A law, or-"

"Father will have his solicitor on the case," Draco said, shaking his head. "Good luck getting any legal loopholes past her." Draco read over the letter again and frowned, but this time it was thoughtful. "Perhaps my 'moving' letter was the wrong approach. If I can't reason with him with compassion, I'll just have to try something else."

"Like what?" Harry asked, but Draco just frowned some more.

"I'm not sure yet," Draco admitted. "But I'll think of something." Harry didn't doubt him; there was something in his expression and tone that made him feel almost sorry for Mr Malfoy.

He was still grinning as they walked into Defence. Moody was already there, sitting at his desk with his fake leg propped up. Ron and Hermione were sitting together, still arguing but neither seemed upset. From what Harry could hear, they'd stopped talking about him and Cho, though he couldn't work out what points they were trying to get across now, or even if one of them had managed to 'win' before they changed topic:

"-because I am a girl, Ron!"

"Yeah, but-"

"Enough," Moody grumbled, and everyone – Ron and Hermione included – fell silent. He set his leg on the floor with a thud, and his eyes raked over the room for a moment. Moody heaved out of his chair and limped up to the blackboard.

"Wands away, today," he said, and Harry wasn't the only one that was a bit disappointed. They'd had two lessons on Boggarts, right at the beginning, but hadn't had another practical lesson since; they'd covered giants earlier in the week, but Moody had said they'd be moving on from that today.

He grabbed up a chunk of chalk and noisily wrote a word across the middle of the board. When he stepped away, so that the class could see it, unease trickled through Harry.

Werewolves, he'd written.

"Today's topic," Moody said gruffly. "Page 394 of your textbooks, if you're interested." He clapped his hands together, and several people jumped. "Like the giants, the werewolves have been known to side with dark wizards in the past, which means knowing a bit about them'll help you if we're ever in another situation like the one we had with Grindelwald, or with You-Know-Who."

Harry felt several sets of eyes on him, when Voldemort was mentioned, and kept his own eyes firmly ahead.

"So," Moody said, "Most of you should know that werewolves are created when they're bitten by another werewolf – one that's transformed, that is. Never been a case of a human being bitten by a transformed werewolf that didn't result in the condition passing on." Quills scratched across parchment. Harry hadn't picked his up at all, and was instead sitting with his arms folded, watching Moody closely. "We'll start with identifying them; there are five main signs, that can be used to separate a transformed werewolf from a normal wolf. Anyone know any?"

Hermione's hand moved slowly into the air, and she glanced at Harry, almost apologetically.

"Granger?"

"I think I read that they have tufted tails," she said.

"Good." Tails, Moody wrote. "Next?" The class was silent. Moody looked expectantly at Harry.

"Size," he said reluctantly. "Werewolves are a bit bigger than normal wolves."

Size went up on the board as well, and Moody turned.

"No one?" He sighed. He lifted three stubby, slight crooked fingers. "Snout shape," he said. "Proportionally, it's a bit shorter than that of a normal wolf." He tapped his second finger. "Pupil shape – the pupils of a werewolf tend to be rounder and more dilated than a normal wolf's. Lastly, the paws; werewolves have proportionally bigger paws, and longer claws than a normal wolf, and those claws, will always be the same colour as a human fingernail… but if you're close enough to see that, you've got more important things to be looking at." He laughed gruffly. "Can anyone tell me why it is that they're so dangerous?"

The class was silent, but from their uncomfortable expressions, Harry suspected no one thought that was a question that needed answering. Moody looked to Hermione, who hadn't volunteered anything.

"Granger?" Her shoulders slumped a bit.

"If they forget to take Wolfsbane," Hermione said, glancing at Harry briefly, "then they can't control themselves when they're transformed."

"If they forget to take Wolfsbane," Moody mocked, and then snorted loudly. "The average werewolf doesn't take Wolfsbane." Harry bit his tongue, before he could say anything he'd regret. "They either can't afford it, can't make it, or don't want to. But, you hinted at the right answer, and it's to do with control. Werewolves aren't themselves when the moon's up, they're wild, and they're monsters."

"They're not monsters," Harry said, and Moody's eyes – both of them – came to rest on him. "They just- have a bit of a problem." Someone – he thought it was Daphne – tittered at the back of the room.

"And that problem is highly contagious, unless you know how to defend yourself," Moody said, turning back to the rest of the class. "Anyone know how?"

"Don't be there," Pansy Parkinson said, smirking.

"Good, except You-Know-Who," Moody said flatly, "used to send werewolves after people that upset him. What would you do if a werewolf showed up on your doorstep, Parkinson? Or stepped out of your Floo?"

"Leave," she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"Apparition might be an option," Moody said, "as long as no one's put up wards to keep you there, and you're old enough to know how, or are with someone that can. Floo's an option, as long as it's not blocked. But let's assume it is blocked, and that wards are up or you don't have your wand to Apparate. What then?"

"Why wouldn't she have her wand?" Hydrus asked loudly. "She's a witch, not some stupid muggle."

"Maybe she put it down somewhere," Moody said. Harry felt vaguely ill; his parents had done just that before Voldemort arrived at Godric's Hollow, and with the Dementors around, he'd been regularly reminded. "I've known it to happen. But we'll say she's got it, only can't Apparate. So what do you do?"

"Run?" Dean suggested. Moody snorted.

"Kill it," Hydrus called, from the back corner. Harry clasped his hands atop his desk, so he wouldn't be tempted to do something like grab his wand and hex Hydrus. Or punch him. Or Moody, for even bringing up this topic. Draco shifted uncomfortably. Moody was watching Hydrus.

"A bit extreme, perhaps-"

"But if it's us or the monster," Daphne said impatiently, "then of course we would." Harry was both surprised and angry when Moody just nodded.

"How?" The class went very still. Harry couldn't believe that they were so casually discussing this in the same classroom that Moony had used just two years before. He wondered if his classmates were thinking the same, and thought if Ron's grimace, and Hermione's hand – sitting in her lap, rather than waving madly in the air, like usual – were any indication, that they at least, were. Next to Harry, Draco wasn't writing notes, just staring very hard at his blank parchment. "Well, Greengrass? Malfoy? How would you do it?"

Neither of them had a suggestion, and Harry wondered if it was because they didn't know, or because even they thought answering would be crossing a line.

Moody looked almost disappointed.

"Spells," he said. "Werewolves have a slight resistance to some spells while they're transformed, but nothing like giants with their thick skin…" Quills scratched. "With werewolves, though, you've got to pick carefully. Anyone got a guess as to why?"

"They've got good hearing," Blaise offered, from over by the window.

"Good," Moody said. "So ideally, you'd be casting non-verbally. Werewolves aren't human when they're transformed, but they still know a bit – hard to say how much, exactly, but in the interest of not giving yourself away…" He nodded and went and scrawled Non-Verbal on the board in his awful handwriting. "Other things they've got, is good reflexes. You cast any sort of spell like- Stupefy!" Harry was not the only one that jumped as Moody's spell exploded harmlessly on the wall, but he was the only one that had pulled his wand in response. "See the jet of light? Don't know about you, but I'd much rather dodge that than something like a body-bind, or disarmer, which I can't see."

"What about ropes?" Seamus asked. "If ye didn't want to really hurt it, but wanted it away…"

"Could work," Moody said. "As long as your spell was stronger than the werewolf, and it couldn't chew through them and break free." His magical eye rolled over the class. "Body-binds work, but tend to wear off quickly. Cutting spells, or any other spells designed to inflict pain or injury'll work, but don't bank on it getting rid of the thing. Not much can distract a werewolf once it's hunting."

"What can?" That was Hermione, and Harry was glad she'd asked that, and not something about killing or hurting werewolves.

"A threat," Moody said. "Or sometimes the howl of another werewolf; they'll think it's a potential mate, if you're lucky." He looked around at them all, and seemed pleased that most people were taking notes. Harry hadn't so much as touched his quill, and didn't think it had gone unnoticed. "So, spells are effective, we've established that. Anyone know what else might work?"

"A gun?" Dean asked, and most of the purebloods in the room looked at him like he'd grown another head.

"What's a gun?" Draco muttered to Harry, and he could hear Hermione explaining the same thing to Ron.

"Muggle weapon. Shoots bullets – bits of metal – at things." Draco looked startled.

"… would work, if you hit it enough times, Thomas, good. But given most of the rest of you don't even know what one is, I doubt very much you'd have access to one. Potter? Any suggestions about how you'd defend yourself?"

"Werewolves can't infect other animals," Harry said. "If you were an animagus, then-"

"True, but I was hoping for something that could help the average witch or wizard. Try again." Harry knew exactly what Moody was asking, but was reluctant to share that information with the class. It felt like a betrayal of sorts, to be the one to reveal one of the most dangerous things to a werewolf, when Harry's own 'godmother' was one. "I know you know, boy," Moody said warningly. Harry glared at him, undaunted despite the unmatching eyes. But, Moody was going to tell the class anyway, so Harry gained nothing from keeping the answer to himself.

"Silver," Harry muttered, seething.

"Good. Five points to Gryffindor." Harry scowled. "Silver," Moody continued more loudly. "Very effective, and gets more effective the closer the wolf is to the full moon. Foolproof way of identifying a werewolf that's not transformed. Give 'em a sickle, see if it burns."

The class turned, then, into a noisy discussion about how they as third years could make use of a werewolf's weakness to silver in order to defend themselves, if it came to it. Harry took no part in it, just sat with his arms folded and didn't write down anything that Moody or his classmates were suggesting, either.

As such, Harry wasn't entirely surprised, when Moody called for him to stay behind after class. Scowling, he waved his friends on, and went to stand by Moody's desk.

"Drop the attitude, boy," Moody said.

"How could you talk about werewolves like that, when you know- You were at their wedding-"

"Lupin's a rare sort," Moody said. "And he handles it better than most, but if you think he's not just as dangerous as the rest of them on that one night a month, then you're delusional." Harry's expression remained stony.

"He takes Wolfsbane-"

"So you'd let your friend Weasley run around with Lupin on a full moon, as long as he'd taken the potion?"

"He'd have his human mind," Harry said, but was a bit uncertain. He'd seen Moony snap and growl even when he'd transformed back into a human after the full moon, and seen him get restless when he came across a human scent – usually Harry's or Tonks'. That wasn't something Moony did normally. He didn't say that to Moody, though.

"You know You-Know-Who's out there, and you know he'll be back eventually, Potter. Now, Greyback's out of the picture, thank Merlin, but that doesn't mean the rest of his pack won't pick up where they left off twelve years ago."

"Maybe they wouldn't, if you stopped talking about them like they're monsters," Harry said. "My whole class is probably terrified of them, now-"

"Good," Moody growled. "And you know why? Because it's my job to teach them how to defend themselves, and if they're scared, then chances are they listened and maybe even learned something that could help them out one day. I'm not going to apologise for that, even if I've hurt your feelings a bit in the process." His voice had turned mocking, and Harry didn't like it.

"Was that all?" Harry asked stiffly.

Moody was quiet for a long moment, watching Harry with both eyes, and nodded. Harry turned and left.