As everyone finished putting their things away, the students settled back into the castle. They spent their time in the hallways, or their dormitories, or even outside of Gryffindor Tower. You likely wouldn't see them in the Common Room because Ron had scared everyone away five years ago. He was better now, but I guess it became part of Gryffindor culture to not be in the room specifically designed for people to be in. This was not an opportunity wasted. The trio utilized the room all the time
Before long, Harry was finished settling his belongings and descended the stairs to join his friends. "Have either of you ever heard of a Prefect?" Ron and Hermione both shook their head. "Prefects are the best students who do everything right." He sat down on a scarlet couch in front of the unlit fireplace. A gleam in his eye and his smile long, he went on. "Well, I told Dumbledore that you two would make great Prefects."
Hermione's smile slipped as her jaw dropped. Ron looked just as shocked as her. "Why would you do that?!" Hermione shouted.
"Because it's funny," Harry answered.
"We would be horrible Prefects!" Ron argued.
"I know," Harry laughed. "I can't wait to see you wearing the Prefect badge."
Hermione wrinkled her nose. "There's a badge?"
"Yes there is!"
"But we don't like school," Ron explained.
"I hate school. I think my thievery should exempt me from such teacher's pettory."
"I think he'll make an exemption."
Well, the matter was decided. If Dumbledore brought back Prefects, they'd likely be the two least enthusiastic to help the school in any way.
The next day brought a sunny Sunday morning. Most of the school was outside, including Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They could hear distant chattering, the occasional exclamation, but otherwise, it was fairly quiet. As lunchtime approached, they began to hear someone yelling.
"Cat! Cat, get back here!" Professor McGonagall shouted to a tree near the castle. A redheaded first year who wasn't wearing the school uniform was trailing behind her.
By now they had gotten everyone's attention. Harry ran towards the commotion and instructed everyone to stay back. Ron and Hermione followed him as they always do.
Whatever, or whoever was behind the tree darted into the castle. McGonagall hastily followed, along with the redhead. By the time the trio got inside, McGonagall had it cornered in a classroom. Most classrooms on Earth only have one exit, so evidently this thing, or person, wasn't very smart.
When they entered the room, what they saw was truly terrifying. Cornered, standing in front of McGonagall, was another McGonagall.
"We've got a problem with your daughter. You need to help us solve it," cornering McGonagall said.
"I already did!" the redhead whined.
"Be quiet, pumpkin," trapped McGonagall instructed. "What could the problem be?"
"Since you've been in charge of her, I would have thought it would have something to do with violence, but she hasn't hurt anyone… yet. The issue is that she doesn't like the House she's been sorted to."
"Slitherin'!" the redhead yelled. "I've been sorted to the House with all the snake people! They tried to make me feed one of those scaley things. I want to be in Gryffindor. That's where all the main characters are from!"
"Simple!" trapped McGonagall exclaimed. "I'm the head of Gryffindor."
"You are not the Head of Gryffindor. I am!" cornering McGonagall argued.
Harry broke his silence and entered the room, ready to fight if need be. "Why are there two of you? One was bad enough!"
"Harry… I didn't know you were there..." Cornering McGonagall said, looking over her shoulder.
"What's going on?" Ron asked, stepping into the room with Hermione.
"As I've said before," cornering McGonagall started. "I'm Minerva McGonagall. This is my identical twin sister, Cat."
"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have this job!" Cat shouted.
"What does she mean?" Hermione asked.
"Several years ago — it would have been your first year here — Professor Dumbledore offered me a job. I accepted, but before I arrived, I got into an accident. I was unresponsive until two years ago. Anyway, Cat found out shortly after the accident and decided the best solution was to pretend to be me. She didn't tell Albus and instead went on to teach my classes with my name."
"And now you have your job," Cat responded.
"They fired you!"
"They tried to…" Cat said quietly.
"I had to convince Albus that I'm not insane and that I don't promote violence! Imagine my surprise when I walked down the great corridors of Hogwarts and everyone was petrified of me."
"Who covered for you last year, Minerva?"
Real McGonagall became even angrier. "You became Umbridge's best friend and didn't tell us that you were sending children to the dungeons!"
"I had a lapse of judgment. You would too if the headmaster was giving you direct orders."
Cat and Minerva kept arguing as the redhead got bored and walked over to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Are there any cakes around here? I want to…" She shook her head. "That's not important."
"Uh… You could check the kitchen, tiny citizen!" Harry replied. The redhead left the room.
"How could she have a daughter that young?" Hermione asked.
"Maybe she's adopted?" Ron suggested.
The redhead leaned back into the room. "I AM NOT AN ORPHAN! Y-YOU'RE AN ORPHAN!" She ran down the hall, everyone hearing her sneakers smacking against the vinyl tile flooring. Everyone else left the McGonagall twins to continue their argument.
"Wouldn't it be crazy if I was an orphan?" Harry asked as they walked down the corridor. "I guess I'd have to live with the Dursleys. That would be horrible." Ron and Hermione nodded. It would be awful.
The morning began with Care of Magical Creatures. Good as new, their golf cart was repaired from Dobby's attack the previous year. They climbed in and picked a fellow student out of the crowd that tended to form around it. After being handed a decent amount of cash for a simple ride across campus, they set out, leaving those who were unpicked to walk. Finally arriving at their unconventional classroom, they saw that the yules were back and cranky as ever. They played with Fang until the rest of the slow students had arrived and Hagrid began his class.
"Upsettin' a yule is easy. Even wearin' a crooked bow tie'll set 'em off. Luckily, calmin' down a yule is almost as easy," Hagrid said. "Simply, bow, apologize, and offer them tea." Hagrid stepped towards one of the tuxedo patterned animals and tipped his bow tie. The yule snorted and dragged one of his front webbed feet on the ground. Hagrid fixed his bow tie. "This is how yeh apologize. I'm so dearly sorry fer angering yeh. My sincerest apologies ter yeh fine yules," he said while bowing. "Would yeh care for a cuppa tea?" The yule shook his head somehow politely. "Don' try to anger a yule. I'm a professional. Since that's out of the way, I'll show yeh wha' I found this past summer." He lifted a blanket off of two bird cages. Instead of birds, there was a bat inside each cage. He stood next to the cage on the left. "This is a vampire bat. Yeh've gotta be careful aroun' these creatures. The smell or taste o' garlic is fatal to 'em. Full breeds, anyway." He took a step towards the second cage and gave the bat scritches through the bars. "Half breeds like this one aren' affected by garlic. Bu' jus' ter be safe, keep your garlic away from all vampire ba's. The same basic idea applies fer all vampire weaknesses. Excep' fer the wooden stake. Tha'll definitely kill 'em. For the next few weeks ter months, yeh'll get to help me nurse this one back ter health. Poor thing has a broken wing." The bat pitifully hopped around on his perch revealing that his wing was wrapped in a white bandage.
As a chorus, the entire group sadly said, "Aww." That poor little bat indeed.
Once Hagrid had finished teaching them about the temperament of the bats — easily daring to give cuddles to the full-vampire bat — it was time for History of Magic. The location their schedules had given them was a room off of the Gargoyle Corridor.
Another crowd formed at their golf cart and another student was picked at random to take their fourth seat. It was a lucrative business. But perhaps it would be better to get a six-seater. Or a bus. Shouldn't Hogwarts be supplying transport?
They went inside the castle and found the hallway decorated in creepy statues. Next, they would have to find the room. Odd numbers were on the left and even numbers were on the right.
"100," Harry started as they walked down the corridor. "102... 104... 108... 110... 112... 114! This is it!"
They walked into an empty room and found Dumbledore standing in front of a dusty green chalkboard. "Welcome!" he greeted as he invited them to sit down in the three most front and center seats in the room.
They reluctantly sat down at the dusty desks while glancing at the door for other students. Hermione coughed. "Isn't this hallway kind of… abandoned?"
"These are our extra rooms. Unfortunately, Mr. Filch has taken to striking in Hogsmeade. He doesn't want to be in the same school as Draco Malfoy." he caught their concerned faces. "Don't worry, I've got people watching young Draco."
"How could he still be here?!" Harry asked. "Haven't his Death Eater friends done enough?!"
"I understand your concern, Harry, but we want to make sure our decisions are thought through. Especially decisions of expulsion."
Ron and Hermione matched Harry's still-angered expression. After a few moments, Harry forced himself to calm down. He knew changing Dumbledore's mind was an uphill battle. Everyone knew that. Not even Hagrid could talk him out of sending Ron to Azkaban. Hermione and Ron must have come to the same conclusion.
"Are you gonna be the teacher?" Hermione asked.
"I am."
"Are we the only students in this class?" Ron asked. "Because it looks that way. Or else they were all eaten by the gargoyles, which doesn't seem that unlikely."
"You've done a lot for Hogwarts, and I thought it would be nice to try and repay you." Dumbledore walked to the back of the classroom to shut and lock the door. Hermione and Ron looked at him suspiciously. He traveled back as though he hadn't done anything out of the ordinary. "Did you all bring your wands?" Harry and Ron nodded as they took them out. "Hermione? Do you have a wand?"
"Well, yeah, I guess."
"Do you have it with you?"
"No, why would I?"
"I'd like you to go and get it," Dumbledore instructed.
Hermione slowly stood and walked to the door. Looking back first waiting for someone to say she could come back, nothing happened. She unlocked it, let herself out, and then closed the door behind her. Dumbledore took three materials out of a grey bag and placed them on a large desk in front of him.
Hermione later returned with the wand Ron had bought her a year prior. She sat back down and Dumbledore began his lesson. "I must admit that your wands do not have any magical power."
"Finally!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Let me finish. Wands need a strong core. Otherwise, they're just twigs." Hermione pouted and looked out the window as Dumbledore continued on. "I've brought some things to make your wands powerful. A dragon heartstring, a phoenix feather, and a unicorn tail hair."
"Unicorn tail hair?" Hermione sneered. "I don't know what's sadder; trying to convince them that magic exists, or trying to convince them that unicorns exist."
"They both exist, Mud."
"I trust Dumbledore," Ron shrugged.
"It's obviously fake," Hermione maintained.
"Then there's no harm in choosing one," Dumbledore replied as he brought the three items closer to them.
Ron reached out for the unicorn tail hair. "I'll use the one from the nonexistent animal," he said, looking at Hermione.
"I choose the phoenix feather," Harry decided. "I like birds."
"That leaves you with the dragon heartstring," Dumbledore said, walking closer to her desk.
"I guess it does," she said as she took the remaining material.
Dumbledore collected Harry's wand and looked it over. Originally from the forest, it had been professionally treated. "I'll just borrow these, have them modified with the cores, and return them to you."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hurry, please, I don't know what I'd do without my magical wizarding woody pointy thing!"
Dumbledore delicately put the wands and the cores back into his bag. "That's all for today. You may leave."
"But, it's only been fifteen minutes," Ron said as he pointed to an old wall clock. "And most of that was waiting for Hermione."
Hermione was already at the door. "Are you arguing with an early dismissal?"
With the extra time, they decided to go to the Room of Requirement to plan for their next D.A. meeting. Dumbledore's Army was far from being disbanded, especially now that there was one Malfoy and two McGonagalls. Harry paced around the room as he went over his lesson plan, and Ron sat on the floor while working on a letter to his parents. Hermione's curiosity took over and she began examining the syrup-making process.
"What's this?" Hermione said to herself.
"I can't see what you're referring to, Hermione."
Wedged between two pieces of syrup-making equipment was a large, green textbook. "100 Ways to Kill a Snake?" Hermione read as she looked at the spine.
"I think the Slitherin's are getting sick of their serpent friends," Harry responded with his nose still in his notes.
Hermione picked up the book and opened it. She turned through a few pages. "What…?" Ron gave in to curiosity and made his way to her find.
Harry put down his notes and joined them. He glanced at the pages and said the thing they were all thinking. "It's a spellbook!" Harry ripped the tome out of Hermione's hands and started flipping madly through the pages.
"Rude, but okay," she replied lowering her arms back to her sides.
Harry was too preoccupied to listen. "Look at all these spells and potions!"
"It's not a spellbook," Hermione stated.
"It looks like a spellbook to me," Ron said as he looked over Harry's shoulder at the pages.
Hermione would never give up. "How would you know what a spellbook looks like? They're not even real!"
"Mud, how can they be fake if we're looking right at one?"
"Remember Tom Riddle's diary?" Hermione asked.
"Yes," Ron answered. "Your point?"
"We found that book and it turned out to be useless."
"Okay, Mud, first of all," Harry began calmly, "this, is not Tom's diary! It's a book of spells! If we had our wands, we could try these out."
"Convenient," Hermione said as she slyly looked out the window. She began to pace around the room, talking with her hands the way you do when you're figuring out a hidden secret. "Dumble takes our wands just before we find an apparent spellbook… awfully convenient."
"I'd love to hear your conspiracy theory," Ron grinned. "Go on."
"Perhaps…" Hermione touched her chin and looked to the ceiling. "Ah, I know! He wants to keep tricking us into believing in magic. Even Harry's been rather quiet about it for the past couple years. "So, he sends us this spellbook and takes our wands so that we won't be able to test out the spells. Then we won't disprove the existence of magic and we'll believe in these stupid Latin terms."
"Just us?" Ron asked. "He hid the book within my syrup equipment and banked on just us finding it?"
"Why not? He couldn't take everyone's wands. He'd need to find a lot of fake cores or whatever. He knows Harry would tell everyone about the book, but I'd remind him that this is a secret book and a professor would surely confiscate it. To ensure we and only we would find it, he put it here. He just needed to throw off the Slitherin's, thus the misleading cover. They wouldn't dream of hurting a snake. Moreover, if a Slitherin' found it, surely they'd bring it to you, Ron, and ask why you would enjoy such matters. Upon looking at the book that almost made your faithful employees hate you, you'd see what it truly contained."
"Why is he obsessed with us?" Ron asked.
"I'm sure he has his reasons."
Harry shook his head. "Your theory would promote a large problem for Dumbledore. For this plan to remain effective, he'd either have to eventually get this book from us and-or never return our wands. Bottom line, it's a coincidence and magic is real."
"He must have a plan," Hermione said, her theory withstanding its two skeptics. "Our wands didn't survive the core installation. He's terribly sorry, but at least we have the spellbook."
"We could get new wands," Harry suggested. "From the forest or Ollivander's."
"Yeah," Ron nodded. "And everyone knows I have tons of money. I could buy Ollivander's. I could buy Ollivander himself."
"You can't buy a person," Harry said.
"Silly, naïve, Harry. The world is much more buyable than you think. When there's a pound, there's a way."
Hermione ignored them and mended her theory. "Unless Dumbledore makes up something about wands choosing their master. Those were our wandmates and they're gone."
"That's true," Ron conceded. "He could indeed do that. If he was an incessant liar."
"Which he is not," Harry added.
All through lunch, they debunked Hermione's theories. Each one having more plot holes than the last. She continued on as they walked to Wand Safety.
Ron put his hand on the doorknob and began to turn it. "Dumbledore isn't from Mars. And you were paying way too much attention to Alien Studies last year."
They entered the room and remembered that Snape was this year's Wand Safety professor. He droned on and on just explaining how to safely carry a concealed wand. Harry already knew the best way: wand holster.
They couldn't believe it, but they were glad when Snape instructed them to begin bubble wrapping their wands. He even let them talk.
"Y'know what I just realized," Ron whispered as he cut some bubble wrap off of the roll. "Snape could still be a vampire. A half-vampire anyway."
"If it works the same way with bats, then yes," Hermione said. "He could very well be."
"How would we check?" Harry asked. "If they're immune to garlic. And all the other vampire things."
"I dunno…" Ron replied.
Harry's face lit up. "Professor citizen!"
"Yes?" Snape said, his bat, Darth Wing's fangs visible atop his shoulder.
"Are you a half-vampire?"
"What observation would give you that impression?"
"You literally have a bat on your shoulder," Ron replied.
Snape glanced at Hermione who leaned forward at her desk as she stared intently at Snape.
"His eyes shifted!" Hermione shouted, slapping the desk with her hands and pointing.
"I caught that too," Ron said. "He's definitely hiding something."
Snape was furious. So was Darth Wing. "I have a right to glance around my classroom without being suspected as a… a..."
Harry shook his head. "He can't even say the term!"
"That's because it's so ridiculous that I can't remember!"
"Is it even your classroom?" Ron asked. "Word on the street is that the last teacher of this class is dead. Murdered. One bazooka rocket to the head too many. Died on the scene."
"I wasn't even there! I was in—"
"Hogsmeade," Hermione answered for him. "Vacationing and celebrating your successful murder."
"Vampire bat," Harry growled.
"Betcha think you're king of the jungle, eh?" Ron said.
"Bats don't live in jungles!" Snape argued, Darth Wing flapping his wings in angry solidarity.
"Why not?" Hermione asked. "Did you exterminate them all so they wouldn't get in your way?
"Bat murderer," Harry grumbled.
"I will say nothing more," Snape decided.
"Need your lawyer?" Hermione smirked. "Are we too close to the truth?"
Their half-vampire teacher refused to speak with them, and the class ended shortly after. The bell rang and they had ten minutes to get to Cooking.