Tonks, Lupin, and Dumbledore were inside the classroom waiting for them. Upon noticing Hermione wasn't with them, Dumbledore broke routine and didn't lock the door. They sat quietly and waited.

"What if she doesn't show?" Ron asked.

"I'll give her a few more minutes. If she doesn't arrive, we'll go on without her," Dumbledore answered.

Ron and Harry both watched the second hand tick around the center. How much time did she need? Could she really afford to miss a lesson? How many spells could they have learned by now if she had just accepted the truth?

At last, the door clicked open. Hermione quietly stepped inside and took the liberty of locking the door. She didn't look anyone in the eye as she made her way to her seat. "Sorry I'm late," she muttered to no one in particular.

"Welcome back!" Ron said cheerfully.

"It's good to see you, Mud!"

She didn't respond.

Things in the room were still a bit weird, but Dumbledore began his lesson. "Sadly, I must admit, our Wizarding World isn't very advanced. There are many things we do not understand. This book," he gestured to the spellbook on Harry's desk, "contains everything we know about wizardry."

"Everything?" Harry asked. "It's the size of your everyday textbook!"

Ron matched Harry's shocked tone. "Half the book is about magical creatures!"

Dumbledore nodded. "You may thank Hagrid for his contributions. Wizards aren't very common. Of those, very few are seeking knowledge, and even fewer are trying to create spells."

"Snape's a wizard," Hermione said quietly.

"Yes."

"Who else?" she asked.

"All members of the Order, excluding James and Lily Potter. All other professors are muggles. They're unaware of the real purpose of Hogwarts."

"Madame Pomfrey?" Ron asked.

"Yes."

"I knew she was a witch."

Harry stumbled upon a horrible thought. "The Dursleys couldn't be wizards, right?"

Dumbledore, Tonks, and Lupin laughed at the prospect. "No. Of course not," Dumbledore answered. "Are you all up to learning a spell or two?" Ron and Harry looked to Hermione.

It was the brightest they had seen her since this all started. Not too bright, mind you, but better. "Yeah, let's do it."

Harry grinned. "I believe we're entering stage five!"

Tonks took to the front of the class and taught them a cool way to make a flashlight if for some reason they couldn't get a match, flashlight, or lamp.

Dumbledore picked up the spellbook and began flipping through it. Lupin and Tonks kept teaching.

"Good work," Lupin said once they learned Lumos. "Ready to learn the disarming charm?"

"Bring it," Harry said.

"This one is a bit harder." He walked to the center of the room. "Harry, why don't you go first Harry stood and turned to face him. "Point your wand at me, and say expelliarmus."

"Expelliarmus." Nothing happened.

"Dobby must protect!" Lupin exclaimed.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted. Magic light and stuff shot out of the wand. Meanwhile, the weapon of his former Wand Safety professor flew out of his hand as he soared into the air.

"Uncle Remus!"

He landed on a large cushy beanbag. So that's why that was there.

"Ron, try your hand at the Disarming Charm," Lupin instructed. Ron stood and pointed his wand at Lupin. "Seize the means of production!" Lupin said, pointing his own wand.

"Never!" Ron shouted. "Expelliarmus!"

Lupin hit the bean bag again. "Perfect. Your maple syrup company is safe." He climbed off the bag, shaking the stars out of his eyes.

"Alright, my turn," Tonks offered, taking over for him. "You go sit down. Hermione," she called. Hermione slowly got on her feet. "Whenever you're ready," Tonks said. Hermione nodded. Instead of saying something about Hermione's thieving heritage, she took a more physical approach. Swiping Harry's wand and pulling him in front of her, she asked him a question. "What is Hermione's criminal status?"

Tonks got out of the way while Harry crooked his head for a moment and then realized. "Oh! Mud's on probation!"

Fire appeared in Hermione's eyes. "Expelliarmus!" This time there was magic light, but no one flew back.

"Hey," Harry pouted. "That spell was directed at me."

"It didn't work," Hermione gathered, ignoring him.

"But it did," Tonks replied. "Since Harry was unarmed, nothing ended up happening."

"Brilliant," Lupin commented.

Tonks smirked. "Work smarter, not harder, Remus."

"That should be all for today," Dumbledore announced.

"Can't we learn more?" Ron asked.

Dumbledore shook his head. "You need a break."

Soon enough, they were back in the common room. Harry was writing a list of reasons why Snape is a vampire, Ron attempted leashing Pigwidgeon and Hermione continued to read her books

"So, where were you yesterday?" Harry asked.

She set her reading material aside. "I almost forgot!" she gasped. She stood up and walked behind Ron. "I was… uh."

"What're you doing?" Ron asked as Hermione was poking through his red hair.

"Pssh, nothing," she said in an abnormally high voice. She took her hands back but still looked at Ron's head. "Just, y'know, your everyday… lice check…"

"Lice?!" Ron whipped around in his seat.

Harry sat forward. "Why would you be looking for lice?"

She moved to Harry and started hunting through his hair. "Well," she started in the same chipmunk pitch, "There's a s-small outbreak. No big deal. Head lice only spreads through direct contact."

"It's obviously spreading, otherwise you wouldn't be checking us," Harry said, still alarmed.

Hermione lost her nervous tone. "It's that stupid hat. I told them, didn't I? Last year I told them using that stupid hat was going to cause an epidemic." She left Harry and sat in her usual chair. "But it's okay. We've isolated the midgets in the hospital wing, but we're keeping diligent."

"That hat is a dumb idea," Ron nodded.

That was something they could all agree on. But how much could Hermione actually be helping with a breakout of lice? How long does it take to throw mayonnaise on a kid's head?

It was impossible for Halloween to go unnoticed. Corridors were filled with dry-ice as they were every year, and skeletons waited for you in the quietest, darkest, and loneliest of places. On Halloween night, the castle was full of pathetic trick-or-treaters. The only teacher who remained in his or her classroom was Slughorn. He did participate, but instead of handing out candy, he handed out lucky charms. Not the brown stuff, mind you, just the marshmallows. It was one more adult more than it usually was, so trick-or-treat turnout was a lot greater. Oh, also, it was tradition for Hagrid and Dumbledore to hand out candy at the former's cabin while watching scary movies. But one house doesn't really count as trick or treating. Each year, the vast majority was hopeful first-years. By second-year or sometimes third-year, they realized the professors were too lame to amuse some innocent kids trying to participate on Halloween. But this year with two places participating, nearly everyone returned to try again. Students swept through the halls wearing a variety of costumes. Surprisingly, the Dursley costume was very popular. It was the scariest thing you could be. Not that they were actually scary. The costume was a hit around the world thanks to The Fictum Post's extensive coverage the year before. They teamed up with and made two versions: Mr. Dursley's, and Mrs. Dursleys. Even though the students weren't being hunted this year, Harry still busied himself with keeping an eye on the castle and its residents. Hermione disappeared again and Ron was in meetings reviewing how well RonCorp products did with their first year of theming for the Halloween season. Meanwhile, Ron had hired a seventh year to make customized Prefect badges. Instead of saying Prefect, they read Rebel. Which seems like an issue considering they're supposed to be role models of Hogwarts, but honestly, who really cares?

A couple days after Halloween passed, Lupin and Tonks disappeared from their classes and Dumbledore taught them himself. Their classes remained short, and every now and then they learned a new spell.

On a windy day in late November, Ron sat in the common room wearing his best suit, and Harry stood to his left, getting ready to patrol the corridors of the castle.

"Where are you off to?" Harry asked as put a little superhero mask on Hedwig.

"I have a meeting in twenty minutes. I'm going to decide whether to buy the bankrupting English maple syrup companies or to let them die out. Either way I'll have a monopoly."

"You mean, only Ronworth's will be on store shelves?"

"Yeah."

"Well, good luck with that," Harry replied.

Ron went into an explanation that no one asked for. Which happens a lot. "I would let them all go bankrupt so I don't have to rely on their questionable English equipment, but a lot of people would lose their jobs. I don't think I would be able to sleep at night if I let that happen. 'Course I could rehire them… I could also just buy new equipment. And build new buildings. Evaluating would be easier than interviewing hundreds of people who may or may not have had this job before… Well, I've decided. This is going to be a short meeting. I guess I'll have time to go golfing with the Prime Minister of Scotland after all."

The most notable thing that happened the following day, was the undeniable drop in the pace of History of Magic. They had gone from learning a couple spells to having a second Care of Magical Creatures class, but with Dumbledore as their teacher. They ignored the change, hoping things would pick up again soon. Perhaps this was the slow until after Christmas break. But considering the lack of magical research, they knew they might just be scraping the bottom of the barrel.

The holiday season surrounded them in snow and Christmas trees. The Slug Club was somehow still in existence. Probably because no one wanted to leave Slughorn alone to his own devices. Halfway through the cold month of December, Slughorn burst through the door upon entering the rather late in the evening meeting. He almost tumbled down the stairs in his haste to show them something.

"LOOK AT THIS!" he shouted as he slapped a magazine onto the table they all sat at. He angrily gestured at the main article advertised on the cover of Marshmallow Weekly." They silently read the blurb. New lucky charm?! Will our savory green clovers be replaced by scrumptious leprechaun hats? Slughorn picked up the magazine to slap it down again. "Spoilers, they will! It's on page four," he whined.

"Change can be good," Luna suggested kindly.

"Change is rubbish! None of you know how many clovers I've eaten over the past thirty-two years!"

"Thirty-two?!" Ron repeated. "You've been eating this stuff for thirty-two years?!"

"Since the day I was born. March, twentieth. Thirty-two years ago."

"You're only thirty-two?" Sarita asked.

"Don't I look younger than that? It's the marshmallows, they keep me young."

"I think you're misunderstanding…" Luna said.

"Yeah, you look sixty," McLaggen said.

Slughorn started laughing. Disregarding everything and everyone that was unsatisfactory to him.

"So if you're thirty-two," Harry started as he stared at the ceiling. "How old were you when you retired from Hogwarts? Before you unretired, I mean."

"Hm, let's see. I was part of the original staff... Hogwarts was founded twenty-four years ago..."

"Eight," Colin said dumbfoundedly. "He would've been eight years old."

"That sounds about right," Slughorn confirmed. "I have a picture." He moved to his desk and reached over it. He knocked over a bottle of ink and several quills, along with several air fresheners and a telephone in his sad attempt to retrieve a picture frame. He grabbed it and brought it back to the table. The black and white photo showed an obese man who looked to be in his thirties. In the photo, he was eating a bowl of lucky charms. Not a brown piece was in sight. "That was taken just before my interview with Dumbledore. Easiest thing ever. Gave me the job straight away. Just told me not to kill anyone. Oh, and to inform him of anything inexplicable."

"That's not possible," Neville said. "No way would Dumbledore hire an eight-year-old and you didn't look eight in that photo."

"I don't know what else to tell you. I remember the day of my birth like it was yesterday. I drove to the supermarket, saw something so… so beautiful… so colorful… I purchased it with the money I was born with, and in the parking lot of Tesco I grabbed a handful of the cereal. I could already tell, the brown stuff would ruin it. I tossed the rubbish out the window of my BMW Isetta 300, then brought my hand to my mouth and took my first beloved bite. I miss that car… I can't fit in it anymore."

"Oh… Look at the time," Ron said after a glance at his watch. "I'm sure we've all got some important things to do…"

Slughorn was brought out of his weird memory daze and jumped to his feet. "No, wait! You just got here! You've got to help me write letters!"

"Letters?" Harry asked as Crookshanks pawed at the growing pile of brown stuff in the corner.

"To the makers of lucky charms. We need to tell them to stop changing the marshmallows! I can't take any more of this madness! With letters from a millionaire and a superhero, they'll have to listen!"

Ron sat up straight. "Whoah, whoah, I have a reputation to uphold!"

"As do I, citizen," Harry said.

"C'mon… please." Slughorn managed to make his stubby legs allow him to kneel. "I've been eating this stuff since I was first born… This is literally the only thing I care about. I have nothing else. I'm begging you..."

Ron sighed loudly. "Fine. I'll talk with the president or whoever of lucky charms or whatever."

Slughorn's face lit up. He crawled graciously to Ron. "Thank you! Thank you!"

"Do we still have to write letters?" Colin asked.

"I don't think so," Ron answered as he leaned away from Slughorn.

"I know just the thing to thank you!" Slughorn announced just before rolling to his cupboard.

"They would listen to me," McLaggen said. "If I chose to bother with this frivolous endeavor."

He retrieved a red box and returned to Ron. "Here! Take it! The brown stuff is already out. You've earned this whole box! Lookit my tears! My tears of gratitude!"

Ron took the box and tried to keep his distance. "Er, great..." he turned to Harry. "We need to get him a pet or something."

The group nodded. "Oh! And please suggest the idea of making my face into a new marshmallow. Not replacing any of the other ones of course. Just an extra."

Ron looked revolted by the idea but managed to choke a response. "We'll see."

Their Cooking professor composed himself and used two chairs to stand up. "I've one more thing to say. I'll be hosting a party here in my office on the day before the Christmas holidays start. That's this week. It'll be the Slug Club Christmas Party. You're all invited and you may each bring one date. If anyone else comes, I won't have enough lucky charms for myself."

The slugs climbed upstairs while Slughorn dumped the brown stuff in his satchel onto the pile in the corner. Ron and Harry began their walk to Gryffindor Tower. Classes were over for today, so these hallways were deserted. Ron absent-mindedly stared in the vacant rooms as he passed them. "Since Ginny's not here, what will you do?"

"I Dunno. Dates aren't mandatory, right?"

"It'll probably be safer to have one. Slughorn might shower you in marshmallows to make up for your loneliness. I think I'll ask Hermione. Y'know, friends."

"Yeah, okay, whatever. If you were deciding between her and Pig, you made the right choice."

"Pssst," someone said from one of the doorways. A few doors ahead was a bathroom with a student peeking out.

"I thought we agreed to never go to the sixth floor!" Ron hissed, realizing they were, in fact, on the creepy floor.

"Do you think we can run?"

"No, she's already seen us!"

"Yoo-hoo!"

She had been on good behavior the year before, but she was still Moaning Joanne. They trudged forward and found the one and only bathroom dweller.

"Hermione, huh?" she asked.

"Were you listening in to our private conversation?" Ron accused.

"Not much else to do if you live in a bathroom."

"I didn't put any spells on you," Harry reminded. "I maybe should have, but you can leave whenever you want."

"I'm looking out for you, Ronny. Big mistake. I changed my mind."

"You do that a lot," Harry interrupted.

"Well, I did," she grumbled.

"What is it this time, do you want to change Lucius Malfoy's name to Duncan?" Ron asked.

"Duncan Malfoy?" Harry snickered.

"Anyway," she grumbled loudly. "I want Harry to be with Hermione."

"Wait what?" Harry blinked.

"What?" Ron added.

"So Harry, with whom I share a birthday, instead of taking Luna, why don't you go with Hermione? This canon is cursed anyway, so why not make a few new changes?"

Harry held his forehead. Not his spidey sense. He was losing brain cells. Which, isn't that how everyone feels after listening to Moaning Joanne?

She went on. "I mean, we're how far into this book and we haven't even gotten to Christmas? Whoever's running this thing is pretty stupid."

So, yeah, they ran away pretty quick after that.

They returned to the common room and found Hermione doing her book and notes thing. Before they could sit down, Harry gave Ron a push. "Go ask her," he smirked.

"Ask me what?" she asked, putting her book down.

"Slughorn's—"

He was interrupted by Hedwig flying towards them from an open window. Once he landed, Harry took the letter out of his beak and read it. "It's from Ginny. She says she's going to come visit. Her break is longer this year, so she's going to spend some of it here with us, and then she'll return home on the train. I've got to go write her back. See you later." He ran up the stairs with Hedwig flying after him.

Ron saved from doing anything risky, he sat down and unlocked his briefcase. They sat there silently, Hermione glancing up at him occasionally, attacking him with those curious eyes of hers. He kept his head down and looked over his business documents and such. Harry returned about half an hour later and sent Hedwig off with a new letter. "She'll be here in time for the party, so I guess I'm safe from being showered in marshmallows."

"What party?" Hermione asked.

Harry looked at his redheaded friend. "Really, Ron? Slughorn's throwing a Christmas party."

"Sounds lame," Hermione said. "Glad I'm not in his marshmallow cult."

"Oh…" Ron said quietly, smacking a stack of meeting minutes on the table to neaten the edges.

Harry shook his head. "Honestly guys. I'm not losing my bet with Ginny. Ron has a question about Slughorn's Christmas Party. Something about needing dates, correct?"

With great hesitation, he formed his question. "Did you want to come… with me?" Ron asked as he stared at the arm of the chair he was sitting in.

Hermione made a slight coughing noise and stared at him. "W-well, I've got nothing better to do…"

"Now was that so hard?" Harry asked. "I'm going to bed."

Ron stood and walked to the fire. He poured the lucky charms in and then he added the box into the flames.

Ginny arrived the next day and unpacked her things in her old dormitory. When she went to Hogwarts, she, Hermione, and three other unimportant people shared that room. Harry heard Ginny and Hermione mentioning a slumber party thing, but he didn't care and subsequently stopped listening.

The four of them lounged in the common room. Harry and Ginny were talking while Ron and Hermione played wizard chess. It was a reskinned version of chess, in which the pieces had various wizarding powers. Ironically, they didn't pay any attention to Harry and Ginny until they lowered their voices. Their curiosity made them listen carefully.

"You still think so?" Ginny asked. "By then?"

"No, they're very stupid. But I'm not giving up and I won't lose," Harry replied.

Ginny shrugged. "There's no way they'll figure it out by then."

"And I agree with you!" Harry exclaimed.

"What are you whispering about?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing, Mud."

The morning before Slughorn's party arrived and brought a fresh coat of sparkling snow to cover the muddy snow of prior days. Hermione and Ginny yawned as they walked down the stairs. Despite Ginny's babbling and Hermione's insuppressable excitement about the event, they looked annoyed that morning as they claimed seats in the common room.

"What's with you?" Ron asked.

"McGonagall showed up," Hermione answered coldly.

"Which one?" Harry asked.

Hermione glared at him. "The nutter. Imagine a concert of fight themed parody songs until two am."

Ginny sunk lower in her chair. "With the only breaks being, 'GUUUURL, YOU WOULD LOOK FAB IN A FULL BODY CAST!'" Her imitation was spot on.

After eating a late and heavy lunch, knowing full-well Slughorn's dinner would be lucky charms, they got dressed up and walked to his office. Other members and their dates lead them down the halls as they all made their way to the Gargoyle Corridor. It was around the time that Luna and her date joined the main scattered group of couples that they had the displeasure of seeing Malfoy. He was in the middle of the hallway lying on a pile of lucky charms boxes. "Guesssss where I got thesssse."

"You stole them?" Ron suggested.

"From SSSSlughorn himsssself."

"Stealing is wrong, criminal!"

Malfoy gave a fake gasp as his eyes fell on Ginny. "Well if it issssn't little Weasssssley… Back from the depthsss of the little overgrown shack that issss the Burrow. It'ssss ssso good to ssssee you. Why did you leave? Wasss it a Weassssley recall? You alwaysss did ssseem a bit broken."

This time Ron and Harry were on the attack. Malfoy stayed just out of reach as he danced around the pile of boxes. "Dresssing all fancccy for our delusional professssssor? I exxxpect thissss from Granger, but, well... yesssss, all of you too. I can't imagine you've ever been invited to a real party." Ron swung and almost hit him. Malfoy stayed out of their reach, dancing around the boxes like a snake. "Yesssterday I was jussst admiring the world. It'sss been sssso niccce lately. The reasssson? Becausssse Azzzkaban fugitive SSSSiriusssss Black issss finally in hisss grave. Didn't happen ssssoon enough, I ssssay."

Harry lost it. He jumped through the pile and tackled Malfoy. He drew his fist back, but he remembered the superhero code. The voices argued back and forth in his head. Malfoy didn't attack. Actually, he did with his words. But there was no danger present. He insulted Uncle Sirius, rest his soul. However, Sirius isn't dead. But Malfoy doesn't know that for some reason. Yes, violence is never the answer but Ron and Mud would be fine with me punching him. On the other hand, Ron's a fugitive and Mud is on probation. But Malfoy… I'm a superhero. I need to do the right thing. Harry relaxed his arm and stood up.

"Chickened out, PAH-ter?"

Hermione slapped her forehead. "Why would you taunt him while lying on the ground?"

"I should only use violence if I am being physically attacked," Harry said. "I'm a superhero."

"I'm not," Ron said as he charged forward.

Ginny rushed towards him and pulled him back. "Harry's right. He hasn't harmed us physically. Therefore, we shouldn't start a fight. Even if we aren't superheroes."

"This isn't a moral story," Ron argued. "This is about an opportunity to punch Malfoy."

"Yeah!" Hermione agreed, fiery passion in her eyes.

"You sure know how to pick your friends, Harry," Ginny sighed.

"Where'd he go?!" Harry asked.

They turned around to see Malfoy and his white-blonde hair running away like a snakey coward. "Well, we've got a party to get to," Ginny said before leading the group closer to Slughorn's office. Ron and Hermione slumped the rest of the way like cats whose prey escaped mid-strike.