Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, yeah...We all know it by now, don't we? I mean, I didn't come up with the peeps
in this story (with the exception of Fi), so I can go back to saying my old disclaimer: I own naught but
Fi--er--Professor McLellan.

A/N: Riiiiiiight. Next part. Not much to say, 'cept that this is where it stops being amazingly fluffy.
Well, for awhile, anyway. Also--here's my take on they famous "Why can't they just rebuild the Burrow
with magic?" question I've received so many times. Okay, look: I don't think they can/should be able to
do ANYTHING with magic, otherwise the world would be perfect. I mean, you have to draw the line
somewhere and say there's a wizarding way of building a house, but it takes time. If they can just wave
a wand, say a few words, and *poof!* there's a house, then there aren't any conflicts in the stories.
For now we'll just say the Weasleys are going to rebuild it, and have to hire a wizarding contractor or
something of that sort. Keep in mind that even magic has its faults, at times. Work with me, here...^_^

Also, to jen: I give you my word that I will not kill Ron. Ever. I adore Ron.

And special thanks to marie, Anne, Crybaby, and of course, Ebony Foxfire, for visiting my site! And they
even signed the guestbook!

Okay, I got something to discuss with you lot. My dear friend Ebony just received a flame because her
lovely cold medication-induced story was R/H instead of H/H. If any of you R/H people out there ever
flame stories because they are H/H, please stop, because it just makes you look like an idiot who can't
accept the fact that people have differing opinions. Let's be better people than they are, okay?

I won't mention the name of the reviewer ::coughcoughSingingAngelcoughcough:: , but I will say that they
made themselves look supremely stupid.

Okay, I'm done ranting. Sorry 'bout that, but it just got me SO MAD...*pouts*

Lost
Part 8
by (who else?) Veralidaine

As Harry, Ron, and Hermione stepped out of the carriages and ascended the large stone steps leading to
the oak front door, their new professor led the way, shoulders hunched with the wieght of her rather
heavy bag, which she was seemingly just managing to keep from dragging on the stone floor. Harry stepped
into the familiar entrance hall, remembering with a feeling remarkably like dread that this would most
likely be his last time doing so.

"Well, thanks for letting me sit with you on the ride," Professor McLellan said cheerfully. "Uhm, excuse
me?" she called into the corner. Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned to look, and saw a small house-elf,
which they had overlooked, standing in the shadows near a tapestry portraying a medieval-style princess
and unicorn. The elf looked up quickly and grinned, muttering something in a funny, gruff-sounding
language, and the professor nodded. The elf picked up McLellan's heavy-looking bag and disappeared into
the shadows again. Professor McLellan sighed loudly and smiled at them. "Elves are ever so polite, you
know. Well, I shall see you three later, then, alright?" And with a smile and wave, she headed off in
the direction of the staff table. However, she suddenly stopped abruptly as she bumped into someone--
literally.

"Sorry," said a voice Harry recognized instantly.

"Professor Lupin?"

Lupin looked over McLellan's head and smiled warmly. "Harry! How are you?"

"Lupin?" Professor McLellan muttered doubtfully, and looked up at the other Professor's face. Both
gasped.

"Fi...ona?" Lupin muttered.

Professor McLellan's blue-gray eyes had grown very round, and she seemed at a loss for words. "I--What--
What are you doing here?" she finally managed, in a rather dazed voice. "And why?"

"I'm teaching," Lupin said softly, dark eyes not leaving hers. "You?"

"Teaching," she mumbled, somewhat moodily.

"Oh." Lupin cleared his throat and nodded at Harry. "Well, I'll see you lot later; I've got to...get to
the staff table."

He strode off quickly, leaving McLellan standing there, still looking dazed. Finally she looked up.
"G'bye, then."

"Bye," Hermione said uncertainly, watching her march off in the direction of the Great Hall.

Ron tilted his head, looking pensive. "What d'you s'pose that was about?"

"No idea..." Harry muttered.

Hermione looked curious about something, but said nothing; merely frowned to herself.

Harry led the way and took a seat at the Gryffindor table, turning his attention to the first years as
they filed incredibly nervously into the Great Hall and watched with great apprehension as Professor
Flitwick set down the Sorting Hat.

For some reason, the number of Slytherins in the group was quite small. Most of the new students were in
Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, or occasionally Ravenclaw. Harry wasn't sure why, but it made him wonder...

Dumbledore stood from his seat at the high table and silence fell in the hall. "Welcome to another year
at Hogwarts," he said, looking tired, but overjoyed to see them all there. "I think most of us already
know the rules--no students are allowed in the Forbidden Forest, hence the name, and I do believe the
list of items not allowed within the school has increased to include the recent trend of Canary Creams
resulting from the opening of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, in Hogsmeade..."

Harry glanced at Ron, who rolled his eyes but said nothing.

"Also, I would like to present our two newest staff members--Professor Lupin, for Defense Against the
Dark Arts," --much applause from all tables but Slytherin-- "and Professor McLellan for Potions." This
last name got polite applause, but McLellan obviously wasn't paying attention anyway. She was too busy
staring in the direction of Lupin, her face somewhere between curiosity and glaring. "Unfortunately,
Professor Snape will be absent for most of this year, and Professor McLellan will be taking over as Head
of Slytherin house."

Harry quickly turned to glance at the Slytherin table. It was quite emptier than usual, but the students
that WERE there were looking scandalized. Malfoy looked like someone had just told him he had been
diagnosed with an incurable disease. Harry, on the other hand, was rather pleased. Maybe Potions would
be at least TOLERABLE with Snape gone, and Professor McLellan seemed like a nice sort, when she wasn't
around Professor Lupin, anyway, for whatever reason...Harry grinned at the look on Malfoy's face again.
This was definitely going to be an interesting year.

***

Ron smirked at the expression Malfoy wore and nudged Hermione in the ribs to make her look as well. She
offered a swift grin and then was back to staring raptly at the staff table. Ron was curious as to WHY,
but quickly found out as Dumbledore continued his speech.

"And last but not least, our Head Boy and Girl. From Ravenclaw, our Head Boy is Mr. Terry Boot, and our
Head Girl, from Gryffindor, is Ms. Hermione Granger. Congratulations to the both of you," he said, eyes
twinkling, and sat down. Professor McGonagall left the staff table and quickly walked to Hermione,
pressing the Head Girl badge into her hand, muttering something, and leaving. Ron caught the words,
"Couldn't send it to you."

Hermione, still looking shocked, pinned the badge to her robes with fumbling fingers and glanced at Ron,
eyes wide. "I'm Head Girl..."

"Never would have guessed it," Ron said sarcastically, grinning lopsidedly at her. "Congratulations,
'Mione."

She grinned broadly and threw her arms around his neck, making him laugh. Then she pulled away, sighing.
"Wow. Head Girl."

Ron rolled his eyes. "You honestly never saw it coming?"

Hermione shook her head. "No...I kept thinking there had to be at least ONE other person in the school
who was a better student than I am; who had broken less rules...Someone better in general. It always
comes as such a shock when this sort of thing happens..."

Ron snorted. "You've got some serious self-esteem issues," he muttered. "And I thought *I* did..."

She smirked at him and crammed a roll in his mouth.


Ron opened his eyes sleepily and pulled back the hangings on his bed. The curtains had been pulled back
from the windows, and sunlight was streaming into the circular room, illuminating it in a rather cheery
way, although the intense light had not managed to penetrate the thick scarlet hangings of his bed. Ron
yawned, stretching his long arms over his head, and looked at the clock on his bedside cabinet. "You're
running late," was the phrase the single hand pointed to.

"Late?" he muttered groggily, and instead glanced at Harry's clock. 8:50. Classes started at...when?
Nine o'clock. Uh-oh...

He leapt out of bed, swearing to himself as he threw on his clothes, then his robes, all the while
wondering why in the world someone hadn't woken him. He usually could hear the other boys getting up, as
they made no effort to be quiet in the mornings. Ron grabbed his bag and sprinted down the stairs before
running headlong into Hermione.

"Ow!"

"Ouch!"

"Sorry," Ron muttered. Then: "Why are you still up here?"

"Well, I forgot my Arithmancy book, and we were wondering why you hadn't come down to breakfast yet,"
she said matter-of-factly, gathering the bag of books she'd dropped upon their sudden collision.

Ron bent down to help her. "I dunno WHY I slept in so late," he said, helping her stack books back into
her bag. "I usually wake up pretty early..."

"Well, Harry had quidditch this morning," Hermione said, slinging her bag over her shoulder and standing
up to face him. "And Seamus said he and Dean tried to wake you three times but you only told them to go
away."

Ron chuckled to himself. "Don't remember it, but I probably did...So, what, they wouldn't let you come
wake me up yourself?"

Hermione gave him a none-too-serious look and cleared her throat. "Yes, well...I believe you have a
Divination class to be at?"

Ron swore loudly, earning a light smack on the back of his head (Hermione had to stand up on tiptoe to
manage it), and raced out of the portrait hole. He sprinted up several staircases and down hallways, and
finally reached his destination late enough to hear the rest of the class milling about above him as he
climbed the silver ladder and, panting, took his seat next to Harry just in time for Professor Trelawny
to make her dramatic entrance.

"Hello, my dears. Welcome to your seventh and final year in my class. As we have gradually progressed
from tea leaves to crystal balls, and last year to dream interpretation, we are now going to be working
with visions. Though I don't expect any of you to possess the power to have a TRUE vision, I do expect
all of you to at least ATTEMPT it, in a SERIOUS manner." She glanced at Ron, who grinned back at her.

She sighed. "We are not going to start off the year with visions. For the time being, we will be working
to review. Today we will be using the tea leaves again."

Ron sighed. He had hoped they'd be doing dream interpretation again--he had loved sleeping during class
for a grade. However, he stood up with Harry and grabbed the nearest teacup (blue, NOT pink...) before
slumping back down in his pouf again.

As they drank down the scalding tea, Harry spluttered a few times, stopping to make annoyed faces. "Why
does she insist we drink it while it's piping hot?" he asked, between sips.

"Because she's a miserable old bat who's made a career out of this sort of thing," Ron muttered,
draining his cup and pulling a face. "Gah...What IS this made from?"

"Looked like normal tea leaves to me, but then, you never can be sure 'round here, can you?"

Ron nodded, turning his cup over on its saucer. "Well, lemme see yours. Let's see when you're going to
die this year, shall we?"

Harry snorted and handed over his cup, while Ron turned it about. "Uh..." he muttered, squinting into
the bottom, "I think that's an acorn or something..."

"Didn't you see one of those in my cup in third year? And didn't she say it was a skull or something?"

Ron looked up. "Yeah, but this REALLY looks like an acorn." He glanced back in the cup. "Well, I s'pose
it could be, like, a walnut or something, but it's not a skull, 'kay?"

Harry opened his book. "Walnut?" he muttered, smirking. "That's not mentioned here..."

"Well, that settles it, then. It's an acorn," Ron said, grinning. "Right, so, read mine." He set the cup
back on the table next to his, and Professor Trelawny swept over to them.

"I do believe you were having trouble interpreting the signs within your cup?" she said mistily, as Ron
gave her a rather sarcastic look. "After four years, I should hope you knew how, Mr. Weasley..."

She leaned over and picked up the cup in front of Ron and started turning it, muttering to herself. Ron
had to admire Harry--he put up a rather good show of paying attention. Ron considered it a waste of
energy to even PRETEND, though, so he just stared at the ceiling, allowing his mind to wander freely. He
was jerked back to reality, however, by the nasty look the professor was sending him. "What?"

"I was just SAYING," she said hotly, "that your cup certainly shows some important events. Someone close
to you shall die before the end of the year."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Who, Harry?" he asked, desperately fighting a grin.

She looked quite flustered. "No, a GIRL."

Ron paled at this. Okay, so he knew she was a fraud. There was no way all this nonsense with tea leaves
was accurate. No possible way. But then...Hermione...

He swallowed roughly. "Uhm...Thanks?"

Looking quite annoyed, the professor swept (rather less-airily this time) over to Lavender and Parvati's
table. Ron glanced at Harry, who also looked slightly worried. Harry raised an eyebrow. "So..."

"Yeah. What do we tell...?"

Harry shook his head. "She'll think it's all silly, you know."

"Yeah, she probably will."

"She's probably right."

"But still..." Ron bit his lip. "I'll talk to her."

A/N: So, I've got a website. A *NEW* website. I've already posted this part there, and I've even got a
fan art section (albeit pathetic). Go Visit!

Well, I'll shut up then. Next part will be out sooner, okay?