Chapter 6

Best Laid Plans of Toads and Wizards

Harry clattered down the stairs, dodging a cluster of second years on their way to class, who squeaked his name as he passed. He reached the first floor and headed towards the hospital wing.

For once I'm not visiting because I'm injured... or one of my friends are injured... Huh, that's new.

As he arrived, one of the doors burst open and to his surprise Blaise Zabini charged out into the corridor, nearly bowling him over. The olive-skinned boy was practically vibrating - with fury, Harry surmised from the crackling of the air around him. He raised his fists from his sides instinctually. But Zabini barely afforded him a glance.

"Sorry," he said instead, through gritted teeth.

Harry was even more bemused at this.

"W- what?"

"Oh, it's you. Well. You heard." Then, he stalked away, robes billowing out behind him.

Was he err... crying? There seemed to be an awful lot of crying happening round Hogwarts lately. It was both expected and unsettling.

Harry stared after him until he rounded the corner. Then turned, knocked, and pushed the double doors to the hospital wing open. He was a bit shaken by the strange encounter. He found the place empty, so went through the wing until he arrived at the open door of Madam Pomfrey's office.

"Potter? Rather soon in the year to be seeing you - I'll be with you in a moment. It's not an emergency, is it? There are chocolate drops in the bowl." Poppy Pomfrey waved her white quill at the corner of her neatly arranged desk. She then went back to writing notes. A chair in front of her lay fallen on its back, metal legs in the air.

"I- I'm actually fine, Madam Pomfrey. I'll wait." He looked around. The room hadn't changed much. Last he'd seen it there were students in all the beds, on the floors, screaming, people rushing around... it was peaceful and quite empty, now. Sunlight streamed in from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The scratching of her quill stopped a few seconds later. She laid it gently to one side, laced her fingers under her chin and appraised him from beneath her cowl.

"How may I help you this morning? I do apologise - take a seat, please." Wandlessly, she gestured at the chair, which righted itself. Harry did as he was told.

He reached into the deep pocket on the inside of his robe and drew out the booklet they'd been given the day before. Following his discussion earlier that morning with Professor Hadley, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who was his career counsellor for the year, it was now peppered with bookmarks.

"I had my one-to-one this morning," he said. "And um. Actually I'm here because I was wondering if I could sign up for your extra-curricular classes on Healing magic and potions? It says here..." he trailed off, trying to find the page in his book.

"Oh!" Her expression morphed from mild concern to delight. She sat back. "Well that's wonderful news, Potter. An excellent idea. And as an Auror certainly a very useful field of magic to have some experience in-"

"Um." Harry scratched the back of his head. "Err - well, the thing is I actually was thinking of... becoming a Healer myself. Maybe."

She clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh! Oh my! That is unexpected." She let out a sob. "To think Harry Potter would want to follow in my footsteps, it's just, oh, it's just wonderful!"

Harry was at a loss. Pomfrey seemed so together most of the time, resolute in the face of danger, unyielding in a crisis... and then once in a while she'd pop like a water balloon. Like now.

"Sorry?" he ventured.

She whipped a handkerchief from her sleeve and blew her nose.

"I'm as bad as McGonagall... absolute wet rag," she admonished herself.

Harry snorted and filed that snippet away to tell Ron later. She tucked the handkerchief away again and composed herself.

"So, you wish to work in the noble profession of Healing. It was my understanding that you and the Weasley boy were dead set on becoming Aurors?"

Harry shrugged. "Things change. And I hadn't really considered it before, but then I got to talking with someone over the summer and I read a few books - the more I found out about how Healing magic works the more I liked the idea. I think it... suits me? I'm a bit tired of fighting. Would be nice to do something that's sort of... the opposite?" He remembered the feeling of relief, the sheer exhilaration he felt when he saved Ron from being poisoned by feeding him the bezoar. That something so simple could do so much good was kind of fascinating.

She nodded, sympathetic.

"Well, you'll be pleased to know Padma Patil has also signed up. You know each other, yes? So far, it's just the two of you. But that's fine by me; it's easier with a small group to teach this kind spellcraft.

"As you'll see in your book, the class is a part-time extra-curricular affair. You won't get a qualification, but you will learn some useful skills (and I am happy to write a letter of recommendation for further education and employment purposes, should you do well) - I don't plan on making it easy, however. And neither does Professor Tang. She will be taking the Thursday morning class in Healing Potions at eight o'clock, before your regular classes. I will take Monday's and Tuesdays at the same time. Classes are forty minutes to allow you a short window for breakfast, or you may have breakfast beforehand, whatever suits.

"Do you have a history of lateness?" she stopped to ask.

Harry flashed back to all the times he'd been late to class. A hundred? Two hundred times?

"Uhh... I don't think I'm too bad?"

"I won't tolerate lateness you know," she continued. She was sounding a lot more like her usual strict self again. "Now. You and Miss Patil will arrive at five to eight for my classes here, in the hospital wing. You'll go to the dungeons for Professor Tang's lessons. I assume your career counsellor has informed you of the required subjects for Healing?"

He nodded. He had to do Transfiguration, Herbology and Potions. Potions was a bit of bad luck. And now I'm signing up for EXTRA potions by the sound of it... Thankfully, not Arithmancy, anyway. He also had one optional subject, and had chosen Care of Magical Creatures since he knew Ron was also planning on taking that class. It would be nice to spend some time with Hagrid each week, as well. And it was - he hoped - a relatively light class for homework, since he remembered Hagrid complaining about having to mark the stuff. He had bought the general studies book list at Flourish and Blotts, and books for those subjects he knew he'd be taking, like Care of Magical Creatures, but now had a few more advanced textbooks that he would have to order in. He hoped he could borrow someone's owl, or that maybe one of the shops in Hogsmeade would have copies.

"Good. The skills you learn should help to further your understanding between subjects. Are you taking any other extra-curriculars?"

"No, I don't think so? I already have my Apparation licence. Maybe Quidditch? I don't know if I'll be able to play on a team yet though."

"Hmm. Not going to try for your Animagus? They're running a mentorship programme for that now. The Headmistress herself is spearheading it."

"I thought about it. I think I'll leave that for now, to be honest. I know it was my dad's thing and all, but I don't much fancy finding out if I'm a squirrel or something. And I have to concentrate on classes to get the grades I need. Maybe... after I finish school?" he mused.

"Yes. A time after school does exist," she said, tittering. "And you have every opportunity to continue your learning, of course.

"Very well, then. Classes start next week, Monday. Seven fifty-five, Potter."

"I'll be there!" He jumped up and grinned. "Thanks, Madam Pomfrey."

He left the hospital wing in high spirits, grin still plastered on his face. He had grabbed a handful of chocolate drops on the way out and was munching them, happily.

It was Wednesday, normally a half day for sports and other activities, though these were due to start the next week, so he had the rest of the day free. He should start his essay or do something useful like ordering those books, really, but he just wasn't in the mood to. And it was another hour until lunch. So... what? He paused to look out into the courtyard. Clear day. Warm, though a little cooler than the baking heat of August. Perfect, in fact. He grinned even wider, jogged in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower, remembered himself, spun on a heel and bounded up the main staircase, two at a time.

"Ron!" he said as he entered the Den and spotted his friend's red hair; he was once again lounging in a purple beanbag chair. The booklet of subjects was in his lap.

"Harry!" Ron said, matching his excited tone in a light-hearted imitation.

"Fancy a quick fly around the pitch before lunch?"

Ron's face lit up. "Brilliant idea, mate! Let's do it!"

They raced each other to their dorms and stripped down to shirts, jumpers and trousers. Ron had previously stuffed his tie deep in the recesses of his trunk, vowing to wear it as little as he could get away with, so he wore his collar unbuttoned and at a jaunty angle with one side sticking straight up. His shirt was half untucked. Where before when he did this it just made him look scruffy, now... now for some reason it looked more intentional. Even... cool? He'd grown to look quite a lot like Bill Weasley in the last year, Harry thought. (Before the werewolf attack, an ever-present doom-and-gloom-obssessed voice pitched in, unhelpfully.)

Ron grabbed his Cleansweep Eleven and Harry his Firebolt. They made their way out to the pitch and took off before they even reached it, too excited to get into the air.

Immediately Harry was reminded that yes, flying was the best feeling in the world. Well... his mind turned to images of Ginny lying naked under him... of Ginny kissing her way down his body... one of the best feelings in the world. The turn of his thoughts made him swerve as his perch on the broomstick became a little... err... uncomfortable.

Trying to distract himself, he plunged into a steep dive, hurtling towards the ground, faster, faster, faster still, until - right at the last second - he pulled up into a loop-the-loop, the wind screaming in his ears. Ron whooped and spiralled down to meet him.

"That was wicked, Harry!"

Harry flushed at the compliment.

"Wanna chuck the quaffle about?" Ron asked, hovering and swinging his legs.

"Sure!"

The pair of them entered the Great Hall an hour or so later, grinning ear to ear and dishevelled with exertion. Seamus and Dean waved them over to the group that was already tucking into a platter full of sandwiches. Harry and Ron sat down.

"Saw you practicing out there. Sweet moves, boys," Seamus said, before returning to a conversation with Dean Thomas about a spell that could turn milk into cheese in under three seconds.

"I got you with that last one, didn't I?" Ron said while somehow also eating half a sandwich in the process.

"Yeah, you did. I want to work on that one move more: the feint? I reckon we could get it really slick with some work." Harry gulped most of his glass of pumpkin juice. The cool liquid soothed his parched throat. There had been a lot of yelling during the match. The fun kind. His goblet refilled itself as he put it back down.

Opposite them, further towards the middle of the table, Neville was chatting with Ginny, who'd abandoned the Gryffindor table to join him. He looked at ease, relaxed in her presence in a way Harry didn't remember being the case before.

Of course, he thought. He mentally slapped himself on the forehead. They had both been at Hogwarts last year. They had started the DA again, with Luna - of course they were close, now. It was nice to see. He didn't quite know why, but when they saw him looking at them, he gave them a thumbs up.

Ron nudged him with a sharp elbow. "What's that about?" He nodded towards the far end of the table. Harry let his gaze slide further down the row.

The ex-Slytherins were in what appeared to be a heated argument. Or no, it was something else... he leaned closer, then realised that he couldn't hear them at all. They'd clearly cast some sort of Muffliato spell. It didn't give listeners a buzzing sound in their ears though; it merely surrounded the five students in a bubble of silence.

Blaise Zabini was there - looking even more thunderous than he had outside of the hospital wing. He sat stiff as a rod, Parkinson at his side. Her pug-face was scrunched up in an empathetic wince. She was patting his hand. Nott was facing him, flapping his arms around as if exasperated. It was obvious he was shouting quite loudly, though not at anyone in particular. Only Daphne Greengrass looked non-plussed about the whole thing. She was slouched with her chin propped on her fists.

And Malfoy... Malfoy was livid. Harry was familiar with Malfoy's livid face; he'd been on the receiving end of it enough times. He said something to Zabini, who shook his head, tightly. Malfoy slapped his hands on the table and stood. What is he saying? Harry tried to lip-read as he spoke again. Zabini reached out an arm to catch his sleeve, twisting on the bench. Malfoy shrugged him off. Turned. There was a real fire in his eyes as he spoke for a third time. Parkinson nodded in agreement at whatever he was saying. Zabini opened and closed his mouth in response, but Harry was pretty sure he hadn't said a word, just gaped at the blonde.

Then, Malfoy leaned in and continued speaking emphatically in Zabini's face, holding him by the shoulders. It was almost, like he was reassuring him? He kept talking as he stood up and strode out of the silencing charm's sphere of influence. Those that were listening in caught, before he disappeared out the Great Hall, the last half of his sentence:

"-if they don't, I'll do it myself if I have to!"

Harry whipped round to Ron. He half stood in his seat before he felt Hermione's presence.

"Not happening," she said, sliding in between them.

"But he's clearly up to something!" Ron whined at the same time Harry said, "We should follow him!"

Hermione shook her head. "Not this year. Please. Can't we just sit and have a peaceful lunch? Please?"

In the past, Harry would have ignored her and gone anyway. In the past, he'd already be outside confronting Malfoy. But Hermione's tone had an edge to it. Ron heard it, too - he looked up at the staff table.

"Look, McGonagall saw the whole thing," he pointed out to his girlfriend. It was a bit strained, but a good effort, Harry thought. Maybe with practice he could take a supporting role in a B movie.

Hermione sighed. "So there. She's keeping an eye on them. I'm sure whatever it is, the teachers can deal with it. It's not like they trust him any more than we do, now."

Ron cast a pleading look at Harry before saying, as if he didn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth: "How was your career counselling appointment, 'Mione?"

Harry, who was also itching to leap out of his seat, feigned interest as she launched into talking about her discussion with Professor Collins. Apparently it had gone on an extra hour.

"There's just so much to learn, you know? I had no idea the range of options; I don't know what I was thinking in sixth year - but of course there's such a variety of career opportunities, not to mention higher learning, research and academia, apprenticeships, overseas placements. Did you know there's a whole speciality in new magic? Creating spells and so on? Or I'd really love to take a crack at a scientific approach to Divination. I have so much to read about before I can decide. Of course, Professor Collins let me take five N.E.W.T.s, but agreed that six was too much, but then I also want to do so many of the extra-curriculars - did you know there a Muggle Art appreciation class running? I think I've signed up to something every morning during the week. That hardly counts right? It's just time I would be sleeping or wasting at breakfast, anyway.

"Suffice it to say, I need to nail the direction - and I'd like to get a doctorate to start with - Collins says 'find my passion' but what if my passion is different from what I'm good at? It's a real conundrum."

Harry rather suspected Hermione would spend her entire life in pursuit of her elusive 'passion'. Researching and researching... never quite circling round to the fact that her passion was the research itself.

"What're you taking?" he asked, a little woodenly. He bit into an apple. He was pretty sure it didn't taste of anything. He couldn't stop thinking of Draco Malfoy running around the castle with free rein to do whatever he pleased. 'I'll do it myself if I have to.' Do what, exactly?

She counted. "Divination. Don't you start again Ron, I know what I've said and I'm allowed to change my mind. Though Trelawney is running the department again so who knows if I'll last. Then Ancient Runes, of course. Advanced Arithmancy. Muggle Studies. And Astronomy. They've moved the observatory to a separate tower they had built on the edge of the Forest, you know. With the Astronomy Tower still under construction."

"Oh," said Ron, looking a bit downcast. "We're not taking a single subject together."

Now that Harry thought about it, neither was he. A small, cheeky voice in his head, which he would deny in front of a judge existed, cheered. Maybe that would mean they could keep their homework assignments secret so Hermione couldn't hound them about it all the time.

"That's a shame," Hermione said. "I did wonder if you'd join me in Ancient Runes, since I know you're planning on taking A History of Magic. There's a lot of crossover, like Latin and the Classics."

"What? No chance. I can only survive so much boredom."

"What are you taking, then?"

"Umm. Charms. Knew I wanted to do that already, it can be a pretty fun class. History of Magic. Care of Magical Creatures. And I ended up picking Herbology - not really my thing but it's more my thing than anything else that was left."

"I can't help but notice... the easiest subjects, I see. And what happened to applying to be an Auror? You're missing half the classes you'd need."

"Oi! I'm going for my Animagus as well, you know. That takes up all of Saturday morning for the whole first term. And second if you can't get the hang of it by Christmas. And err... well that's the thing."

Harry suspected he knew what his best friend was about to say, and he was relieved when Ron confirmed it:

"I don't think I fancy being an Auror anymore. Look. I'm sorry to leave you high and dry 'cause I know we said we'd do the training together, mate, but I've had enough."

He did look sorry, Harry thought. He would've said not to worry but his mouth was full of apple. He settled on raising his eyebrows and grunting.

"After Fred... I don't think I could put mum through the anxiety. And George, well. He needs me. It's a lot of fun working at the shop, too. I can chat to folk. Manage the books and the stock. On slow days I get to play around with new product lines. Did I tell you I'm making a murder mystery game all themed around the Forbidden Forest? George says if it sells I can try my hand at inventing a whole line of puzzles and games and stuff!"

"But what about your career? That's just... just a job," said Hermione. The disappointment in her voice landed like a lead balloon.

"Hey!" Ron crumpled in his seat, offended. "It's not. It is so a proper career. And yeah, it won't matter a hoot if I pass my N.E.W.T.s or fail every one. So what? That's my choice to make."

"You're talking about our lives, Ronald," Hermione said, getting heated.

Harry started to wish, if possible, even more fervently that he'd chased after Malfoy. An altercation with an ex-Death Eater sounded way more fun than listening in on this conversation.

"Am I? Stupid me, here I thought it was my life!"

"I wish you'd take long-term planning seriously. You can't just work in a shop forever."

"Who says?!"

Hermione looked side-long at Harry then, in hushed tones to Ron, hissed, "We will talk about this, later."

"Oh will we now?!"

Steam may or may not have been coming out of Ron's ears.

Hermione ignored him and collected herself. She pivoted to Harry. He tried not to flinch.

"What about you?" She breathed. "What subjects did you choose?"

He swallowed his last bite of apple. "Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology, same as Ron. Transfiguration. And Potions."

Ron looked disgusted. "Potions. Sucks that they need that for the Auror entrance requirements."

"Oh, we're not in any classes together, either." Then Hermione looked puzzled. "But, Harry - you're missing a subject, too. Don't they prefer if you take Charms for Auror training?"

He nodded. "I actually wanted to talk to you guys about that, too. I uhh, I'm kind of in the same boat as you, Ron. I've decided not to be an Auror."

Ron looked genuinely taken aback. "Really? You never said!"

"I've actually been thinking about it since that night Mrs. Tonks visited with Teddy. It turns out she used to be a Healer and she got me interested. I picked up a few books about it and I've talked to Professor Hadley about how the training system works and what subjects I need to take. She thinks it's a good idea. And Madam Pomfrey is doing some part-time classes during the week as well, with Professor Tang. So... yeah. I want to be a Healer." It felt a bit embarrassing to admit to his friends, for some reason. When had this choice come to mean so much to him?

Ron whistled. "A Healer. You'll need to study as hard as Hermione, mate. I hear those programmes are tough to get into. Don't envy you. But like... I get it. I really get it, in fact. You fix stuff, it's kinda your thing. Fixed the whole damn wizarding world, in a way. Makes sense. Heal people instead of hurt them. Look after folk, but in like... a rewarding way. Yeah."

Harry felt his chest practically explode with warmth. Yep. That was exactly why he loved Ron. He understood right away. He didn't question it. He was on the same level.

He beamed.

"That's right. You've nailed it. And yeah, five N.E.W.T.s, three 'Outstandings' and no lower than an 'Exceeds Expectations' on anything. Thankfully we've already got our O in Defence Against the Dark Arts, otherwise I don't think I'd make it."

"I believe in you, bud. Hey, I'll help you study. I think I'll be taking it pre-etty easy this year so might as well help you."

"Thanks!"

"Or maybe you could use that time for concentrating on your own studies, Ronald." Sarcasm dripped from her every word.

Ron huffed and took a big gulp from his goblet as if to swallow an unwise reply.

"Do you really think you can get the grades?" Hermione asked, doubtful.

"Dunno. I'm going to try my best. I'm kind of looking forward to the challenge." Harry laughed. "As long as Malfoy isn't up to something that takes up - what was it? - 'half my brain', I think I'll be fine!"

Ron snorted into his pumpkin juice.

"Off to a great start then, aren't we?"