Chapter
5: New Teacher, New Scores, and Various
Other Things
Harry
was a little wary about Defense Against the Dark Arts. Considering that two had tried to kill him
and a third tried to erase his memory, he had a right to be worried. Furthermore, the teacher was never in the
Great Hall at meal times. In fact,
Harry didn't even know what he, or she, looked like.
When
Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the room, they headed straight for the
back. They watched the rest of the
Ravenclaws and Gryffindors gradually come in. Azar waved merrily at them when she came in and sat right in front of
them.
"Hey,
guys. How is school for you?"
"Fine,"
Hermione answered, though in a much less cheerful voice, "And you?"
"Better
then I could have ever dreamed! I can't
believe I missed four years of this. It's all so incredibly cool. And
from what I've seen, wizard boys are a whole lot cuter than muggle ones," she
grinned broadly.
The
bell rang and everyone turned forward expectantly. However, their teacher still hadn't arrived. After a while, talk erupted again.
"Is
this teacher always late?" Azar asked, turning around again.
"Well,
we don't know. We're getting a new one
this year. Haven't even seen him,"
Harry answered.
"Oh,
how mysterious," she answered, raising one eyebrow jokingly.
Suddenly,
the door was flung open with a bang, causing the whole class to jump. A young woman, no more than twenty, came
bounding in, a great pile of papers in her hands. She set them roughly on the desk and then adjusted her hat.
She
had red hair comparable to the Weasleys and though it was tied back, a few
stray curls were loose around her face and all her hair past the clip was a bit
flyaway. Her eyes were sparkling green
behind a pair of small, attractive glasses. She smiled brightly at everyone and a quite a few boys leaned forward
eagerly.
"Sorry,
class," she said in an accent that was clearly Scottish, "I got a little caught
up in my work and lost track of the time. My name is Professor Connerly. Since you've learned about creatures and curses, I think today would be
a good day to find out how much you remember. We're going to have a test."
Everyone
moaned.
"Oh,
don't do that," she grinned, "If you paid attention in class, you should have
no problem. And anyone who gets a
perfect score will be exempt from tonight's assignment."
She
briskly passed out the test and everyone started. By the end of class, everyone had finished and Connerly had even
corrected them, though a few people admitted that they had simply given up.
"Mm… Interesting test scores," she said, passing
the tests back, "Are you sure all of you were here the last four years? Oh, I'm only joking, Mr. Longbottom. It was an extremely hard test. Only one person received a perfect score…"
Hermione
smiled slightly, causing Ron to moan and put his head roughly on his desk.
"…Miss
Zundel," Connerly said, presenting Azar with her paper.
Hermione's
jaw almost hit the floor. Everyone
turned sharply in their seats, either staring at the aghast Hermione or at
Azar, who was calmly putting her test in her bag.
When
Hermione received her test, she almost burst into tears. Ron, not willing to pass up the chance, said
in a fake consoling voice, "Oh, don't worry, Hermione. Everybody flukes up one time."
"I
wouldn't be talking, Mr. Weasley," Connerly said, giving him his.
Ron
stared bug-eyed at the paper for a moment, then pounded his head on the
desk. That did nothing to console
Hermione, though. When the bell rang,
she stormed out of the room, not even waiting for Ron and Harry.
"I
wonder if she'll be okay," Harry murmured.
"Oh,
I think a jolt to her ego is good for her," Ron answered.
Seamus,
Dean, and Neville came running up to them. "I think I'm going to like Defense Against the Dark Arts the year,"
Seamus was grinning.
"Why?"
"Did
you even look at the teacher? She had a figure like no other!" Seamus exclaimed.
"Well,
yeah, but…" Harry blushed slightly.
The
boys went off to their next class in a very good mood.
****
The
weeks passed by quickly. Hermione was
okay, but always went stiff around Azar. It didn't help that Azar always came out ahead of her. Yet, life went on fairly okay. That is, until one fateful night.
Harry opened his eyes groggily. He knew he had heard something. He was slowly closing his eyes again when he felt something grab his throat.
He tried to cry out in surprise, but he had no breath to do so. Looking up in panic, he saw the familiar face of Dean Thomas. Even though he didn't have his glasses on, there was no mistaking who it was.
"Dean, what are you doing?!" he tried to cry, but the words wouldn't come out.
Harry tried to pull off Dean's hands, but he was helpless against the clenching grip. He tried to struggle, but Dean's knees pinioned his legs. There was nothing he could do. He couldn't breathe.
His eyes searched Dean's pleadingly, but his face was void of feeling. It was as if he didn't care what he was doing.
Harry wouldn't be able to take much more. His lungs were screaming for the air he couldn't give them. He had to do something.
Finally giving up on removing Dean's hands from his neck, Harry tried hitting the boy in the head. Dean, however, simply shouldered each blow, preventing any of them from hitting their target.
Thinking quickly, Harry swung for an area Dean couldn't protect, his stomach. When his fist connected, Dean gave a gasp. Harry took the opportunity to free one of his legs and, with all his might, kicked Dean off him.
The boy flew, hitting his head roughly against Ron's four-poster. He slumped to the ground, motionless.
"What the…?" came Ron's voice, soon followed by his scuffling out of his covers.
When he parted his bed curtains, Ron was astounded to see the unconscious Dean by his bed and a coughing and hacking Harry.
"Harry, what happened?!"
"Search Dean…for…wand," Harry managed to gasp, "Wake the guys."
"Yo, Seamus! Neville! Get up now!" Ron yelled as he searched through Dean's robe for his wand.
Two drowsy voices replied, soon followed by the boys themselves.
"Crikey! What happened?" Seamus exclaimed when he saw the motionless Dean and Ron standing over him with a wand.
"Dean attacked me," Harry croaked, able to breathe but his voice not the same.
"What?!" Seamus exclaimed.
"I woke up and he was choking me. He wouldn't let go. I was finally able to kick him off," Harry explained, rubbing his neck.
"Oh my gosh! Seamus, Ron, look at Harry's neck!" Neville cried, "Move your hand, Harry."
As soon as he did so, Ron blanched and Seamus recoiled.
"What? What is it?" Harry asked fervently.
"Your neck, Harry," Ron whispered, "There are finger marks on your neck. He was really trying to kill you."
"Mm…" suddenly came a voice. "What's going on?"
The four turned around to see Dean sitting up.
"Don't let him up!" Ron cried. Seamus and he pounced on Dean, pinning him to the floor.
"What the-?!" Dean cried in surprise.
"Neville, grab the ropes from our bed curtains!" Ron commanded, "And bring a sock!"
In less than five minutes, Dean was lying on the ground, his feet and arms tied tightly and a sock in his mouth. His eyes were wide with fright.
"What should we do?" Neville squeaked.
"Throw him out the window, that's what we should do!" Ron cried angrily.
Dean's eyes widened even further and he started trying to inch his way to the door.
"Oh no, you don't!" Ron yelled, pointing Dean's wand at its owner, "Petrifucus Totalus!"
Dean froze instantly.
"Why didn't we do that in the first place?" Seamus asked.
"I couldn't think!" Ron cried, "I can't believe this! He's probably one of You-Know-Who's supporters! You sure you're all right, Harry?"
"Yeah, I'm okay now."
"Guys…" Neville said quietly.
"A supporter in our own dorm!" Ron interrupted.
"Uh, guys."
"He could have killed you, Harry! If anybody deserves the Cruciatus Curse, it's-!"
"GUYS!!!"
Everyone turned to Neville, surprised.
"Uh, shouldn't we get Professor McGonagall?" Neville asked, blushing.
"Right. Ron, why don't you go?" Harry suggested.
Giving one last glare at Dean, Ron rushed out of the room. Harry looked back down at Dean. There was something about his face… It reminded him of the frightened look Neville had when Hermione body-bound him in their first year.
"Take him out of the body bind," Harry said quietly.
"What?" Seamus questioned.
"He's no danger when he's tied up. Let's give him a chance to explain."
Seamus took off the spell, then glanced at Harry. "You sure you don't want to hit him with something like the Furnunculus Curse before we take the sock out?"
Dean's eyes widened, but before Harry could answer, the door burst open. A very ruffled McGonagall in curlers came in, followed by Ron.
"I don't know what's so important in the middle of the night, Wea-."
She stopped short when she spotted Dean.
"Oh my gosh! What do you boys think you're doing?!" she cried, bending down to untie him.
"Professor, don't!" Ron yelled.
"Don't you tell me what or what not to do, Mr. Weasley!"
"Oh, Professor, am I glad to see you!" Dean exclaimed as soon as the sock was removed, "I woke up on the floor and these guys pounced on me and tied me up and put me in a body bind! They were going to throw me out the window, Professor!"
McGonagall turned on the other four, forgetting that Dean was still bound hand and foot. "What in-"
"He attacked Harry, Professor!" Ron exclaimed.
McGonagall then rounded on Dean.
"What?! I would never… Why would I attack Harry?!"
"Because you're one of You-Know-Who's supporters!"
"What!!! That's the last thing I would be! What are you talking about, Ron?!"
"Look at Harry's neck, Professor. He's still got finger marks on it!"
McGonagall examined Harry, then spoke again, magically removing Dean's ropes. "Thomas, Potter, come with me. The rest of you, to bed."
"But, Professor-"
"You, too, Mr. Weasley!"
McGonagall lead the two boys out of the dormitory, through the common room, and toward Dumbledore's office. When they got there, McGonagall commanded them to sit.
"Wait here," she ordered.
When she left the room, the two boys remained silent. Harry watched Dean warily, and Dean returned the look. Neither of them moved until Dumbledore and McGonagall came in. Dumbledore was looking very tired, yet determined.
"This is a severe matter, Mr. Potter and Mr. Thomas. I first want to hear both sides of the story."
Harry first told him about waking up with Dean choking him. Then Dean told him that the last thing he remembered was going to bed, and then waking up on the floor to have his friends attack him.
"I see we don't have an agreement. With your permission, I would like to use this."
He pulled from his robes a vile containing a clear liquid that Harry recognized well as veritaserum. Harry drank it first and told them exactly what he had said before. When Dean drank the potion, Harry leaned forward, determined not to miss a word.
"Tell us, Mr. Thomas, what you did from the time you got into your bed."
"I fell asleep very quickly," Dean said, his voice flat and emotionless, "I was tired. The next thing I knew, I woke up on the ground. I asked what was going on, then Ron cried, "Don't let him up!" He and Seamus pounced on me, then-"
"That's enough, Mr. Thomas."
Dumbledore thought a moment, then asked, "Did you have any dreams, Mr. Thomas?"
"Yes. One"
"Will you please tell it to us."
"I was in my dormitory, all alone, just looking around. Suddenly I glanced in the mirror and instead of my reflection, I saw a tall, thin man with white skin, red eyes, and a flat face. He then climbed out of the mirror and came right up to me. He placed his hands around my neck and started choking me. I tried to escape, but he was too strong. Everything went black. Then I woke up on the floor."
"Thank you, Mr. Thomas. That's all we needed to know."
Dean's head rolled onto his shoulder and a few moments later, he woke up.
"Mr. Thomas," Dumbledore began, "can you tell us of the dream you had?"
"Dream?" Dean questioned, "I didn't have a dream."
"I see… Well, you were both telling the truth," Dumbledore said gravely.
"But how, Professor?" Harry asked.
"That, Mr. Potter, is something I'm not sure of right now. I suggest you both go off to bed. I don't think you will be in any more danger, Mr. Potter. Tonight. Goodbye, Mr. Thomas, Mr. Potter."
As they left, Harry overheard Dumbledore murmur to McGonagall, "This is not good news."
~*~*~
A/N: Mwahaha!!! *cough*
Well, I hope you liked it.
How would you feel if you woke up to your
friend trying to strangle you? Not a pleasant
experience. ^-^
Now why did Dean attack him? And why
didn't Dumbledore do something about it?
Hm. Well, I hope that'll get your minds going.
And thanks for reviewing, all!
-Ady
