Chapter 8 – All-Seeing Eyes and Even Stranger Things
A good night's sleep hadn't seemed to dislodge the topic of the Triwizard Tournament from the students' heads, as at breakfast the next morning, it was practically all Harry heard from anyone and everyone. Draco continued to hold court with his little gang – Vince and Greg, and Pansy and Victoria, along with a few others from Adder group. He seemed to have perked up considerably since the summer, although whether that was permanent or as a result of the new attention from the others in Slytherin, Harry couldn't tell.
"Competition is welcome, of course," Draco said loudly enough to be heard around the Slytherin table at breakfast, "but I just don't think there's going to be any. I'm easily the best flyer in our year." Most of his hangers-on seemed to agree with him, although from what Harry could see, some of them weren't convinced.
"Best flyer my arse," muttered Harry into his cornflakes. He'd have said something, but he thought that sparking an argument over something so silly at breakfast would be more than a little uncouth. Let Draco say what he wanted – in the end, it would be the medals that really proved the point.
"He is quite good, to be fair," said Theodore just as quietly from next to Harry. "I'm not saying you aren't," he said quickly, "but apart from you, I really don't think he does have much competition. He can be a little shit at times but flying is one of the things he's good at."
"Yeah, I know," said Harry sourly. "I don't mind that—he's just such an arse about it."
"He's an arse about most things, Harry," said Theodore with a little smile.
Harry sighed.
Towards the end of breakfast Mr Shafiq came around with the students' timetables for the year. Harry was somewhat pleased to see that they'd kept the same groups as last year, since although it would have been nice to have some more mixing between the Slytherin first years, he also didn't much fancy sitting with an entirely new set of people in his classes.
"It's not a bad day today, considering," said Daphne once their little group had gathered just after breakfast. "A full day, with Miss Gamp first and then a double Potions with Mr Shafiq and then Herbology…" She frowned. "Ooh and then it's Charms first after lunch with Flitwick, then we've got that new Defence professor afterwards for a double. It's not awful but it could have been worse, so…"
"I'm not really looking forward to that one," said Theodore. "I just hope he's… professional… about everything."
Daphne glanced over at Theodore.
"Oh?" She paused. "Oh. Well. At least you'll have Vince and Draco in with you, so it shouldn't be…" She frowned. "It shouldn't be too awful."
"What about your mum, Blaise?" asked Millicent. "I heard they investigated her for—"
"They didn't find anything and they had to apologise," said Blaise quickly. "Because there isn't anything to find. So there's nothing for him to worry about." Despite his words, he didn't seem particularly sure about that to Harry.
Harry didn't fully understand the exchange, but thought he had the basics right. He couldn't be sure, but he assumed Millicent meant the rumours that surrounded Blaise's mother. Variously, Harry had heard that she was a serial black widow, killing each of her (numerous) husbands whenever she'd got married for the inheritance money; a Dark witch who practised ancient African sex magic who used up men like potions ingredients; to a tragically cursed widow whose effects on men were wholly outside of her control. Harry didn't know quite what to believe, so he chose to believe nothing. Evidently, the Aurors hadn't known what to believe, either.
Harry decided to change the subject before it lingered too long on the subject of his friends' parents' dubious pasts or presents.
"We can sign up for the duelling after Charms today, though," he said. "So that's not so bad, is it? And we've got a free first thing every Friday, which is really good."
"We do have a nice spread of frees every week this year," said Tracey. "That's nice, that is. I'm happy with the timetables this year. At least we don't have two sessions of potions in a day like last year!"
"But every single potions session is a double this year," said Daphne. "Ugh."
"What? Is it really?" asked Blaise. "Bollocks. I didn't see that! Oh, well. Could be worse—at least half of them are with Shafiq."
"Well, that does make it a bit better," conceded Daphne after she scanned the timetable to check it. More or less everyone preferred Snape's apprentice to Snape himself, as even though Snape favoured the Slytherins, he still wasn't nice. Mr Shafiq was both pleasant and a good teacher, which in Harry's estimation made him a million times better than Snape, who was neither.
"We should get going to Transfiguration," said Tracey. "I know it's only with Miss Gamp but we still shouldn't be late on the first day. And, look, we've got it with the Gryffindors and they've all gone already!" She gestured to the Gryffindor table where all the Gryffindors paired with Viper group had already gone.
Harry and the rest of his friends made it to Transfiguration right on time, slipping inside the door just as Miss Gamp had planned to start her lecture. The Gryffindors had all sat together, which Harry thought was probably for the best, so the Slytherins followed suit and Harry sat himself down next to Theodore two rows back from the front. He got out his things and settled down for Miss Gamp's lesson.
After the lesson ended the Slytherins trudged back down into the dungeons for a double session of Potions with Mr Shafiq, and then afterwards, back up and out onto the grounds for Herbology with Miss Root. Harry wasn't at all a fan of how packed every Thursday would be over that year. Lessons right through, and some tough ones. At least after lunch they had Charms – Flitwick usually managed to make complex lessons fun, and they could sign up for duelling afterwards.
Viper group had Charms with the Gryffindors, and both halves of the class had arrived early that day.
Once everyone had come inside and sat down, Flitwick took the register and launched right into his lecture.
"This year our goal is twofold: to build on that which we have learned last year both in the theoretical and practical, and to move forward with a whole range of new, much more complex charms. As we have studied the basic theoretical components required for a proper understanding of beginning charms last year and in detail, this year we may devote proportionately more time to…" Flitwick paused when he saw Finnegan from Gryffindor stick his hand up in the air and wave it about madly.
"Yes, Mr Finnegan?"
"Sir, we were wondering when we could sign up for the duelling competition. Dumbledore said yesterday…"
"That can wait until after the lesson, Mr Finnegan," said Flitwick. "I'm sure all of you are very interested in duelling. Indeed, as a former grand champion of the European circuit I share your enthusiasm! It is, however, an extracurricular activity and this year we have rather a lot of material to cover. You must all be aware that next year you will all sit your OWLs, and the curriculum is quite broad. Again, I shall ask all of you who are interested in duelling this year to please stay for a few moments to speak with me after the class has ended."
The disappointment from the gaggle of Gryffindors surrounding Finnegan was almost palpable. Harry wasn't sure whether they'd actually expected Flitwick to stop his lecture in favour of chatting about duelling, but he supposed it had been worth a try. Flitwick stopped the lesson only very briefly one more time to answer a question from Granger, but otherwise managed to get through to the end without any further interruption.
At the end of the lesson, practically the entire class had stayed behind to sign up for duelling. Harry didn't mind the competition, of course, but he hadn't expected Parvati Patil or Lavender Brown to have any interest in duelling.
"Duelling is not easy," said Flitwick once he'd realised just how many people intended to sign up, his tone uncharacteristically stern. "After the sign-up period has ended we will be practising at least twice a week up to Hallowe'en, when we will hold the qualifying tournament. If you do not think you can maintain—and perhaps even increase—such a schedule, do not waste mine and everyone else's time by signing up today." He paused to allow his words to sink in, but nobody who'd stayed after the lesson left the room.
Flitwick sighed.
"Well, come along, then. Sign your names on this parchment here, and after the sign up period is over listen for the announcement at dinner. And do be sure to get along to your next class swiftly or your next professor won't be happy."
The Slytherins' last lesson of the first day of term was Defence Against the Dark Arts with the new professor, the so-called 'Mad-Eye' Moody. By the time Harry and the others managed to get to the classroom, the Hufflepuffs had already arrived and chosen seats along one half of the class, which Harry found disappointing since he would have liked to have sat with Ernie. He gave Ernie – and Justin, who was sat at a desk next to him – a little gesture as he walked past and took a seat next to Blaise in the third row.
A number of strange devices lined the walls, as well as an absurd amount of what appeared to Harry to be cloudy mirrors. He recognised a couple of sneakoscopes on the desk, as well as several items Harry couldn't identify. Moody stood in front of his desk, leaning just slightly, with his leg – which Harry noticed belatedly ended in a wooden foot – stuck out.
Although they weren't late, Professor Moody still didn't seem especially happy to see the Slytherins walking in after the Hufflepuffs had already arrived. Many of the Slytherins seemed to reflect back his negative energy, likely because they were worried about the ex-Auror and his fearsome reputation, and the atmosphere felt tense. Harry was glad it was only an hour slot, and not a double.
Moody gestured with his wand and the door slammed shut.
"Let's get this clear from the start," said Moody, "I'm nothing like that waste of space you had as a professor last year. Those lazy bastards at the Auror office couldn't figure out what he was up to, but it's clear as crystal he was up to something, as Potter there can attest. Me? I'm not with the Aurors anymore, so I can call them lazy bastards if I damned well like, since that's what they are. But I'm no Dark wizard. Spent my whole life chasin' them down. Bagged more than a couple, as most of you will already know." His electric blue eye bounced from person to person and seemed to settle, for a few seconds only, on several of the Slytherins. "Malfoy!" barked Moody. "Your father still a weak-willed son of swindler?"
The scarred man gazed at Draco for what felt like an uncomfortably long time to Harry, who wasn't even the subject of the odd gaze. Draco, ordinarily easy to provoke especially if one mentioned his father, sat there with a grimace plastered across his face.
"My father was formally cleared of all charges and was as much a victim of the Dark Lord as anyone else," Draco managed to say eventually, although not even he sounded especially convinced.
"Ah, well, I can see the apple didn't fall far," said Moody. "Not a bit of wit between you." He snorted, and then turned his attention to Theodore next, who'd sat up straight in his chair and fixed his gaze just past Moody. "And you, lad. Are you as suspiciously inconspicuous as your old man, or do you have a bit more presence?"
"It's not a crime to be well-behaved," said Theodore.
"Aye, there's well-behaved and then there's whatever your father is, lad. Mark my words, there's something rotten there," said Moody.
Theodore said nothing, and Moody turned his attention towards Blaise – or so Harry thought.
"And you, Potter," said Moody suddenly. "How is it that a lad with your history ends up in the den of snakes with this lot? Is it true, that you're a Dark wizard in waiting, like some people say? Looking to take up the mantle of old Snakey, is that it? That's what they say, isn't it? So, come on then. Tell us the truth."
Harry frowned and felt the back of his neck go hot. He wasn't a Dark wizard, and he didn't much like Moody's accusations. Where did the old wizard get off, accusing Harry of wanting anything to do with Voldemort's legacy? Whatever the morons out in the country said, Harry had no interest in becoming a Dark Lord. Even the thought...
"I'm no more a Dark wizard than you are a cover star for Witch Weekly," said Harry. He immediately heard several of the Slytherin girls in the class groan, and from the corner of his eye he could see Blaise put his head in his hands.
Moody, though, leaned back against his desk, and laughed.
"You've got your mother's tongue in your head, Potter, that's for certain," said Moody after he'd finished laughing. "Just remember I've got my eyes on you, Potter."
Moody stood up from his desk and took a step towards the class. Harry leaned back reflexively; Moody seemed like someone Harry wanted as far away from him as possible, his avowed anti-Dark magic position notwithstanding.
"We've got a lot of work ahead of us this year," said Moody. "From what I've seen of his curriculum, Quirrell covered most of the basics but in a frankly fucking weird way. He left his curriculum behind but even his apprentices couldn't untangle that mess, the poor sods. So we've got to paper over the cracks in last year's lessons, and cover everything I wanted to teach you this year. Then if we've got time, we can start on what you'll need for your OWL next year."
Daphne, sat at a desk in the front row, stuck up her hand. Moody ignored her.
"Now, I ain't staying on for more than this year," declared Moody. "It's my job to teach you how a real Dark wizard operates—what spells he uses, how he uses them, and why he does what he does. Then I'm off, retired. Finished. You'll never hear from me again. Aren't you lucky?"
Daphne kept her hand in the air, and waved it a little.
"Yes, Miss…?" said Moody eventually.
"Daphne Greengrass, sir," she said. "Um, I was just wondering what you meant by starting with the OWL content if we have time? Isn't that, um, what I mean is, isn't that what we're supposed to be doing now?"
"You've got a pair of stones on you, missy," said Moody. "I like that. But ain't you been listening? I'm here to talk about the stuff only someone like I can teach you. Let the next unlucky bastard teach the OWL. Why d'you need me for that?"
Harry could tell Daphne wasn't satisfied with the answer, but she had enough sense to let it go, and Moody started talking again.
"I've had special permission from the Ministry to show you things you wouldn't normally get to see until NEWTs," continued Moody. "I've got the right training and background to properly contextualise what you're seeing, so that's why. We'll cover all that first off, so you've got the grounding for what comes next—which is case studies of the Death Eaters I brought in back in the War. It's not up for negotiation—everything's been cleared by Dumbledore and the Board, so shut your traps if you've got any complaints. You need to hear this, every last one of you."
Harry didn't think that would go over especially well with Draco or Vince, whose fathers had actually been put on trial during the War. Judging from Moody's actions already, it didn't seem unlikely that he would include those trials in his case study, too, even though they'd both ended in acquittal. He felt sorry for the students in the other years and Houses whose parents and other relatives had actually gone to Azkaban. It sounded as if they would be in for a rough year.
"With this Triwizard nonsense over the year, you can all get it in your heads right now that I don't give a shit about the Tournament. Best case, it's a security risk that goes well in the end. Worst case? Dead students and an embarrassed Fudge." Moody snorted. "Waste of time, if you ask me, but under no circumstances—no exceptions—will participation in the flying or duelling competitions get you out of any component of my lessons this year. I don't care how much practise you need. I don't care how good you are at flying or cursing or whatever bollocks they've got you doing. I don't care if you're about to win the thing. You. Ain't. Skipping. Class. Got it? If you get sick, you'll make up the time. If you skip a lesson, you'll get twice that time in detention. This course is non-negotiable, no ifs, ands, or buts. If there's a lesson on your timetable, your arse is in that seat."
Moody focused his words on the Slytherin half of the class, although he did glance towards the Hufflepuffs occasionally. Harry thought he probably assumed the students with questionable relatives would try to get out of the lessons, which at the very least Draco probably would have tried to do.
"Right, now we've got that out of the way, we can talk about the difference between illegal, and Dark. You won't need your books, and you can take notes if you want to, but what I need is for you to listen…" said Moody. He spent the remainder of the lesson going through the different kinds of illegal, but not Dark, spells and magical practices and then compared them with Dark magic that was, conversely, legal. At several points in the lecture Harry had to rush to scribble down what the ex-Auror said, and by the end of the lesson Harry felt like at the very least, Defence wouldn't be a total wash that year even if it would be awkward and tense.
Almost as soon as the lesson ended and Moody allowed them to leave, the Slytherin half of the room shot out of the door, Harry included. He didn't want to be left in the room under the gaze of Moody's 'Mad Eye' – not on his own, at any rate. They retreated as a group to the dungeons, to wait for dinner in more comfortable surroundings.
Over the next day more students had an experience of Moody and his teaching style, and all sorts of stories started to permeate through to the students in the other years and classes. As the second year Slytherins in Viper group had a free first thing in the morning, had a little time to lurk in the Common Room, listening and watching.
One of the new first years – one of the boys, whose name was Rookwood, Harry thought – came running back just before lunch from his first lesson with Moody crying, followed by the Carrow twins, Flora and Hestia, who each looked angry.
"Moody's lesson with the firsties went well, then," observed Harry.
"I feel sorry for that one," said Theodore quietly. "His dad's in Azkaban. I think it was Moody who… well, you know. I wonder what he said to him, to make him cry."
Harry felt sorry for the boy. It must have been difficult to start a new school, and then find out one of your teachers put your father in prison, and then that that teacher seemed vicious enough to bring it up in front of the whole class. On top of all that, to be thirteen and seen crying in front of everyone in your class, on the second day of school… Well, it was hardly an auspicious start to the year.
"What about the girls?" Harry asked, glancing towards the little alcove where the twins had settled in to.
"Where should I start?" said Theodore. He shook his head. "The Carrows are a weird, weird family. They live with their 'aunt' and 'uncle'—a brother and his sister, right?—but neither of them has a sibling on record, apparently, and the twins don't have any parents listed on their birth certificate, so… well, everyone says the aunt and uncle are the parents. And then both of them were charged during the War with collaboration, so they were fined. Never sat trial as Death Eaters, so they didn't get Azkaban, but…"
"That's—that's really grim," said Harry. It made him feel a bit sick. Hopefully, it was just rumours, the sort of thing people spread when they didn't know all the details and wanted something salacious to gossip about. "This year's going to be rough…"
"For some more than others," murmured Theodore.
"Oh, shit, sorry," said Harry. "I forgot about…"
Theodore shrugged.
"My father's record speaks for itself. There's never been a single recorded incident of wrong-doing. After the accusations he was compensated by the Ministry because it was all untrue. Moody can say what he wants, but there's nothing to get at me with. Draco and Vince, though…" He shrugged again. "Come on, let's go to Defence now, or we might get stuck sat by Pansy…"
Harry wasn't as sure as Theodore that Sinistrus Nott had been uninvolved during the War but said nothing. It was probable that Sinistrus Nott had said nothing to his son about his activities during the Blood War, assuming he had been active, and so Theodore wouldn't know anything anyway.
Harry and Theodore left the dungeons with the trickle of other Slytherins, and made their way to Defence, where the topic on everyone's lips – in a change from the previous morning – was Professor Moody and his unique teaching style. Fortunately, they had Defence with Moody's assistant, a young witch with an absurd name Harry couldn't quite remember and who was rather more pleasant than Moody himself. Directly after lunch the Viper group Slytherins (and their counterpart group in Gryffindor) had Transfiguration with McGonagall.
Harry had thought the introductory lesson with McGonagall would have been a bit more relaxed than it ended up being, as it was the first one back, but evidently McGonagall hadn't agreed with that. She assigned a devilish bit of homework due after the weekend.
"We should use our free on Monday to get the homework done," said Daphne as their little group left Transfiguration. Blaise groaned at the suggestion, but Theodore seemed enthusiastic.
"I suppose we could get it done then," agreed Harry eventually. "We've got Divination now though, don't we? Where is it? Anyone know?"
"It's up in one of the towers," said Blaise. "Right out of the way of everything. I know the way, though."
"Why stick it up a tower?" complained Millicent. "Honestly, some of the places they put classrooms in this bloody castle…"
They trekked halfway across the castle in search of the Divination classroom, which was at the very top of a tower, and even then up a ladder and through a little hatch. In the attic of a tower, which Harry thought was pushing it as an appropriate venue. The classroom itself looked nothing like any of the other classrooms Harry had ever seen – smoke from copious clusters of burning incense hung in the air, and instead of desks, the cramped tower room had been filled with mismatched arm-chairs arranged around little circular tables. Along the curved wall at the back of the classroom sat shelves filled with tea cups, tea pots, and crystal balls. Thick curtains covered the few windows in the room.
Professor Trelawney sat in an overly large, stuffed full, arm-chair at a little table with a crystal ball sat at its centre, her eyes closed.
"Come in, come in, my dears," said Trelawney. "I have been expecting you."
"No shit," muttered Blaise. "We've got a session timetabled…"
Harry sniggered.
The three boys took a trio of chairs just behind Tracey, Daphne, and Millicent, and settled in. The chairs were more comfortable than the standard chairs used in the other classrooms, but Harry felt like that, along with the dark room and the incense, would make it quite difficult to stay awake – especially last thing on a Friday.
"You may have heard the rumours that my Inner Eye—the means by which I can See—has been damaged by my accident last year," said Trelawney once the floor hatch had closed and all of the second year Slytherins had sat down. "I would not normally deign to discuss such trivial and mundane matters as rumours, but it is important that all of my students are aware that my mystical prowess is not diminished. Indeed, I feel as if the waters of fate are clearer than they have ever been."
Trelawney said her piece without opening her eyes until the very end, when she pointed directly at Harry.
"Harry Potter. I have Seen much of your future. I can not—will not—say too much, for fear of changing what is Fated to pass, but you must be careful. Your very life is in danger!"
"Er, right," said Harry. "Thanks for the advice, Professor. If you could, though, it might help if I knew what to look for…"
Of course, Harry already knew his life was in danger, and from whom – Voldemort was out there doing all sorts of ridiculous things due to a prophecy made by the very woman in front of him – but according to Dumbledore, Trelawney didn't remember making any true prophecies. That was, apparently, a quirk of her power, that she would never remember a word spoken in True Prophecy. Harry, though… Harry remembered every word in each of the prophecies the strange Seer had made.
'He will rise again', Trelawney had said to Voldemort. The problem for Harry was, when would Voldemort rise again? Did the twisted little ghost he was count as having risen, or was there something yet to come? She'd said more to Voldemort, uttered more words of True Prophecy... and the only one who knew the words was Voldemort himself.
Useless, thought Harry.
"Alas, my poor child, to See is to be burdened with knowledge that one simply must not share," said Trelawney. "I have said almost too much already. We must hope it is enough that you know to be cautious."
Harry rolled his eyes at the announcement from the Seer. If Harry didn't know she'd uttered true prophecies before, he would have thought her a complete and total fraud.
Not that he rated her much higher than that even with his knowledge.
"Incidentally, Miss Parkinson, do tell your mother to be especially careful on the stairs. It simply won't do for her to get injured at Hallowe'en, as I'm sure you're well aware," said Trelawney once she'd moved on from predicting danger in Harry's future.
"I will, Professor," said Pansy' "I'll make sure she is."
"Good, good," said Trelawney. "Now, we must start our journeys into the mystic art of divination! This year we will, of course, not be delving into the deeper mysteries—you are too young, too untrained, for that—but we will of course begin our studies. We shall discuss tarot, and tea leaves, and learn basic scrying. This will be a very good introduction to the noble and storied art. Alas it is unlikely that any among you have a true and unclouded Inner Eye—Seeing is a very rare talent as I am sure you all know—but you may study the more mundane techniques. This will have to be enough for you."
Harry zoned out after Trelawney's introduction to the class. Although divination seemed like it did have some merit, or at least some of its peripheral arts and processes seemed useful at any rate, Harry thought the lessons would be a complete waste of time. Trelawney herself certainly had a rare magical talent even if it was sporadic in its appearances, but it was one that couldn't be taught or as far as Harry understood consciously controlled.
So Harry spent the session thinking about other things, and by the time the lesson ended, had nearly fallen asleep.
The first weekend at Hogwarts arrived rapidly, as the term had started on a Thursday, which gave everyone a little reprieve from the resumption of lessons. Hogsmeade weekends weren't due to start until later on in the year nearer Hallowe'en, so Harry didn't get to explore the village, but he did have time to find Madam Hooch to sign up for the flying competitions.
Unfortunately, it seemed like practically everyone else in the castle had had the same idea, too. When Harry arrived at Hooch's office – a pokey little room tucked away in a strange, little-used location on the ground floor – a queue dozens of students long stretched away from it, filled with all sorts of unlikely competitors. Some of the people queueing made sense to Harry. He recognised quite a few of the students as Quidditch players who wouldn't get to play Quidditch during the Tournament, and who were too young to compete the in the Gauntlet – but for others, it seemed like a total waste of everyone's time.
"I bet most of these people don't even fly well," Harry complained to Theodore, who'd come with him to wait. "You've seen Patil and Brown on brooms, haven't you? They're awful. And look, some of them are first years!" Harry nodded towards a gaggle of first years who wouldn't even have been allowed to bring a broom to school. Included among them was the Weasley girl who'd joined Slytherin at the Sorting, along with one of the new boys – Harper, Harry thought.
Theodore shrugged.
"Don't get distracted by people who aren't competition, Harry," he said. "You should be more concerned about people like Chang or Montague or, er, Draco."
That was fair enough, Harry supposed. The Quidditch players were certainly more important to worry about than the time-wasters, and Draco was a decent flyer.
"That's a good point. But still, this queue's going to take ages…"
"We do have all day," Theodore said.
"God, I hope it doesn't take all day," said Harry.
The queue slowly moved forward as students either completed their sign up, were turned away at the office, or gave up on the idea entirely. Some of them gave up only after reaching the Hooch's office and learning just what, exactly, the flying competitions entailed, but Harry felt like the queue made good progress. At any rate, he made it to Hooch's office within about an hour, which he thought was better than it could have been.
"Ah, Potter. I thought I'd be seeing you here," said Hooch once Harry and Theodore stepped inside her office. "Although—and don't take this the wrong way, Nott—but I hadn't thought this would be something you'd like to do."
Theodore went a little red around the ears.
"I'm just here with Harry," he said. "I don't want to take part."
Hooch nodded.
"For the best, I think. Well, Potter, there's a few things you need to know before you sign up. We've got a good number of events in the flying category, so you can sign up for one, some, or all of them. I think someone of your skill and talent would want to give all of them a try, but it is your choice in the end. Now," she said, glancing down at the parchment on her desk, "I'd recommend you start with the standardised speed racing competition. All competitors will be given the same type of broom to ride for this one, so it really is just a test of your skill in broom handling. Simple enough competition—get to the finish line faster than anyone else. How's that sound?"
Harry nodded along. It disappointed him a little that he wouldn't get to use his Firebolt for the race, but he could understand the rationale behind it. Most people couldn't get their hands on one even if they had the money, due to the waiting lists.
"I'll try that one, yes, definitely."
"Good, good. Thought you would. Now, we've got another category—hazard flying. There's two competitions here, standardised and free—you'll be wanting to join both of them, I expect, if the rumours of your Firebolt are true."
"Er, yeah," said Harry. "I would like to use it…"
"Yes, well, who wouldn't?" agreed Hooch. "All the usual hazards will be present—bludgers, harpies, magical winds, you know. Like I said, all the usual. Possibly some new, hasn't been decided yet. The scoring differs between standardised and free, but we'll explain all that later. How does that sound?"
Harry nodded.
"I'll do those, as well."
"Wonderful, wonderful," said Hooch. She listed the remaining events in the flying competition from relay races to marathons, and Harry agreed to sign up for them all. "We'll be holding the first set of heats after the sign ups are all done, and I expect we'll be all done by Hallowe'en. Good luck and make sure you get to work, Potter. The qualifiers will pit you against the best Hogwarts has to offer, but for the competition, it'll be all those and the best from the other schools. Natural talent will only take you so far!"
"Thank you, Madam Hooch," said Harry. "I'm looking forward to it!"
Harry left the little office feeling much more excited about the competition than when he'd gone in. He thought he had decent chances of winning at least one of the events in the competition, although Theodore didn't quite share his enthusiasm.
"Mate, some of those events sound rough. Hazard flying is really dangerous…" he said as they walked away from the office. "Harpies..."
Harry grinned.
"That's what makes it fun!"
Harry spent the rest of the weekend practising his flying – and showing the more interested of his friends how to fly a Firebolt. By the time Monday came along with the commencement of lessons for the week, felt like he had very good chances in the overall competition. He was less excited at the thought of lessons, although for Viper group at least, Monday came with three free periods, so Harry thought it wasn't that bad.
The one downside, however, was that after an afternoon double session of Potions with Snape, the second year Slytherins had their once-weekly Arithmancy session with Professor Vector – a class most people agreed was at least tied with Alchemy for the 'most difficult subject' offered at Hogwarts.
"Arithmancy last thing on a Monday afternoon!" complained Millicent. "I don't even want to do Arithmancy next year. It's so unfair they make us take it this year."
"If we don't take it this year how will we know if we want to take it next year?" said Daphne. "At least it's only once a week if we don't like it, so it's not that bad."
"I already know I don't want to take it next year," said Millicent. "It's awful. Full of numbers and equations and all that bollocks."
"People say it's really useful for loads of careers though, don't they?" said Tracey. "So it's worth having a go, I think."
Theodore nodded along with Tracey's words.
"I'm looking forward to it. It's a properly theoretical class, so we can go deep into it," he said. "It's really interesting, and broad too—you can use it to describe the foundation of some magical fields, and there's even ways you can use it for divination, and spell—"
"Alright, Professor Vector," said Blaise. "Calm down."
"Everyone should be interested in something," muttered Theodore defensively. "I like numbers."
"I'd be more interested if it wasn't meant to be the hardest class you can take," said Blaise. "It's not like anyone ever actually uses arithmancy, anyway…"
"That's not true! People use arithmancy all the time, like healers, or curse breakers, or even architects and—"
"Alright, alright," interrupted Blaise. "It's not like I'm ever going to use arithmancy, I should have said. Anyway, we're here now so for the next hour it's going to be as much arithmancy as you can handle. I'm sure we'll be shitting out numbers by the end of the afternoon."
Harry had never been overly fond of maths at school, but he thought that arithmancy, although it involved numbers, wasn't quite the same thing as muggle mathematics. He'd looked through his textbook on it, of course, but the book had been considerably more dry than some of the others, and used language and concepts Harry had either forgotten or never known about to start with. Although he didn't share Theodore's enthusiasm for the subject, Harry did harbour some mildly optimistic hopes about the content of the class.
Each of the hour-long, once-weekly classes brought the two halves of the second year Slytherins together, although there was still very little mixing between the groups. Harry sat with Theodore, and Daphne sat with Millicent, although both Tracey and Blaise did sit with one of their counterparts from Adder group – Jessica Spriteworth and Charles Miller respectively - and Harry saw that Vince and Greg sat together, too.
Once everyone had sat down, the professor rose from her desk to shut the door, then turned towards the class. Harry recognised her from dinners in the Great Hall, of course, although he didn't think she was one of the residential professors – tall, with an angular face full of sharp lines. Not unattractive, exactly, but handsome rather than pretty.
"Welcome to your first lesson in arithmancy," said Vector. "I am Professor Vector, head of the Arithmancy Department, such as it is. You've probably heard all sorts of horror stories about arithmancy. Let me tell you this: they're all true. But don't let that dissuade you. Arithmancy is, once you get deeper into it, among the most difficult of the magical arts. There are some who would argue it isn't magical at all, but they're wrong. Foolish, even. Arithmancy can help us to understand the underlying nature of magic. It can be used to craft powerful spells. Arithmancy can even be used as a form of divination. It could be said that arithmancy is not an art in and of itself, but a method of analysing and understanding the myriad magical arts that do exist. If none of this interests you, you are in good company—but I think it is a pity when witches and wizards ignore the deeper mysteries." She paused. "You should consider the course this year as a mere introduction to the idea of arithmancy. To be frank, we simply do not have enough time with each other for it to be anything more than that. By the end of this year, however, I do expect each and every one of you to have gained a deeper understanding of what arithmancy is and why we study it, even if I do not manage to convince you that it is an interesting and worthwhile endeavour."
Professor Vector turned back towards her desk to gather a stack of parchment sheets, then approached the students' desks to hand them out.
"We will begin with a simple assessment of your basic arithmetical knowledge and skills. I am well aware that you all studied arithmetic and basic mathematical skills last year in Foundational Studies; I am also well aware that after a long summer, most of you will have forgotten most of it. The very end of the introductory assessment contains a speck of arithmantic content. It is not an indication of what you are expected to know, so do not let that bother you unduly. After I mark your tests, we will have some time left to discuss the course—and the field—a bit more broadly."
She placed a parchment sheet containing the test in front of each student, then returned to sit at her desk.
"You may begin."
Harry scanned through each of the questions to get a basic idea of what he was supposed to do. The basic maths questions were all easy enough – he'd done well last year in the maths parts of Foundational Studies, and none of these questions seemed any more difficult – but he did falter a bit when he reached the brief section that asked for arithmantic knowledge. Questions such as 'What is Wenlock's Ratio?' and 'Explain the Threefold Rule' seemed to require rather a lot more knowledge of arithmancy than Harry had. He didn't let it bother him, however, since it seemed likely enough that only Theodore would be able to tackle those questions anyway.
The assessment took up most of the allotted hour, although Harry had finished after about half that time – apart from the arithmancy questions at the very end, which he left blank. Vector collected the assessments and then spent the rest of the lesson marking them, except for a brief little bit at the end when she gave a little overview of the kinds of things arithmancy was used for – some of which Theodore had already mentioned just before the lesson.
It did sound vaguely interesting to Harry, although he supposed that the real test of his enthusiasm would come after the lessons started to get more difficult.
"Next week will be an introduction to the kinds of numerical charts we use in arithmancy," said Vector at the very end of the lesson, "so if you'd like to be prepared, look up the relevant chapter in Numerology and Grammatica. It's not homework, per se," Vector added, "but it would be useful if you did it. You may go."
Nobody seemed to need any more encouragement to leave, and the classroom soon emptied of students.
"That wasn't so bad," concluded Daphne after the lesson had ended and the second year Slytherins were on their way back to the dungeons.
"Speak for yourself," said Blaise. "It was boring, and it's almost like Vector wasn't even trying to make it sound interesting. I can't wait until next year when I don't have to take it."
"Well, if you don't like arithmancy I don't think there's that much she really can do, is there?" said Tracey. "I don't know if I'll be taking it next year either, to be honest, but once a week this year will be fine. I think."
"I enjoyed the lesson, anyway," said Theodore. "Well, not the test—that was annoying. But the bit at the end when she was talking about analytics and predictive models was interesting, wasn't it?"
Blaise rolled his eyes.
"Interesting, yeah," he said.
"It was a bit interesting," agreed Harry. It was a tentative agreement, but he thought there might be some promise in the subject. "I don't think I enjoyed it as much as you did, mind," he said with a nod towards Theodore, "but it's not the worst lesson we've ever had, is it?"
"At least it's over until next week," said Blaise.
"Definitely," said Millicent gleefully. "Once a week is more than enough."
"It really isn't that bad," said Daphne, shaking her head. "You make it sound like a torture session!"
"Well, that's because it was!" said Millicent.
Ancient Runes lessons came later, which Harry was eager to get out of the way. Ancient Runes was an entirely theoretical and academic class, with no actual magic to it. It was, as far as Harry understood, a class dedicated to learning how to read dead languages.
And it was set last thing on a Tuesday afternoon, after a double Transfiguration with McGonagall, which wasn't a particularly nice slot for any lesson.
"Do you think we'll do Egyptian hieroglyphics this year?" said Daphne on the way to the lesson. "I've always wanted to learn them!"
Theodore shook his head.
"No, I had a look in the book and this year it's just Futhark and the tree thing and, erm… well, I can't remember the last one," he said.
"That's a shame," said Daphne. "But I suppose three languages is enough for now… oh, do you think she'll show us some of the magic they used to use them for?"
"I thought Runes was just, you know, languages and stuff," said Harry. "I didn't know you could do magic with it!"
"You can do magic with any language, Harry," said Blaise in a disinterested tone. "But that's not what the Ancient Runes class is about. It's just language study."
"That's a shame," said Harry. The idea of learning a new kind of magic – one separate from wands and even potions with its ritualistic elements – excited him. To then learn that that wasn't what the class was about, well... Harry supposed it was similar to how Blaise had felt the previous day with Arithmancy.
"Mm," said Blaise. "I know."
"People still use the runic systems for magic," said Theodore, "but it is a bit niche these days. But you do need to know the languages—at least a little bit—before you can do it, so that's why they still teach them."
"Sounds like a lot of work for something you can do better with wands," muttered Millicent.
"To be fair that is actually why runic systems fell out of use," said Theodore. "Wands are better and easier, most of the time."
"I'm looking forward to Runes, anyway," said Tracey. "I like learning languages, although it is more fun when you can speak them with someone…"
"You're already bilingual, though," said Millicent, "so it's easier for you."
"Well, that is true," conceded Tracey. "Oh, look—the door's already open!"
By that point they'd reached the Ancient Runes classroom, along with the rest of Viper group, although their counterparts from Adder group were nowhere to be found. Draco and his little gang lingered at the threshold of the door to the classroom, seemingly disinclined to enter first.
Tracey and Daphne moved past them excitedly, stopping briefly to acknowledge the others.
"If we get in early we can get good seats!" Harry heard Daphne say to Tracey.
Harry followed along after them with Theodore, Blaise and Millicent. Although he didn't share the two girls' enthusiasm for 'good seats', he didn't particularly want to be stuck waiting with Draco and Pansy either.
Professor Babbling sat on the edge of her desk, legs crossed, tapping one of her feet in the air as if listening to music, although Harry couldn't hear anything. She had a little book in one hand and rested her head in the other.
"Hello! I'll be with you in a bit," she said as the students walked in. "Just need to finish reading this…"
The classroom slowly filled up with the rest of the second year Slytherins while the professor kept reading her book at the front of the class. She didn't look up from it until a few minutes after the class had been supposed to start, and everyone had already sat down.
"Right, sorry about that! I'm part of a book club for witches and I'm so behind on my reading this week!" she said after she'd put her book down and slid off the edge of the desk. "I'm Professor Babbling, and this is Ancient Runes! It's kind of Ancient Studies as well, since we do go a bit into how the ancients lived and what they were like and the sorts of things they would do, just for a bit of context. But the main thing we're going to be doing this year is learning enough of their languages to be able to work with runes." She paused, and then seemed to remember something she'd forgotten. "Oh, I need to take the register! Hang on…" She looked behind her for the list of students and quickly took the register.
"Right, that's sorted," said Babbling. "So, this year the main rune systems we'll be looking at are the Elder Futhark and the Celtic Tree Alphabet. To do that we'll be learning a little of Old Norse and some smatterings of Old Irish, and if we have time some Old Welsh—but don't worry, we don't need fluency for what we'll be doing!"
Professor Babbling leaned back against her desk.
"Can anyone tell me what the ancient wizards used runes for?"
Nobody seemed willing to offer up an answer, although eventually Tracey put up her hand.
"Yep? Miss Davis?"
"Apart from just, you know, writing stuff down," said Tracey, "they were used to put protective charms and enchantments on things since the ancient wizards didn't use wands."
"Right, brilliant!" said Babbling. "Five points to Slytherin! That's a great answer. Actually, it's why comparatively few examples of runic magic come from the Romans—they invented wands! But runic systems are much more common elsewhere in the world, and actually formed the basis of most magic in the pre-Roman era. So runic magic does have a really long and fabulous pedigree, even if we don't tend to use it today because it's just a little bit less convenient than the magic we can do with wands. That being said, there are still uses for runic magic even today. Can anyone give me some examples?"
Theodore put up his hand.
"Mr Nott? Go!"
"Some magical artefacts can only be made using runic magic, since there isn't a wanded spell to do what they do. Like the spells on the Goblet of Fire, for example."
"Ooh, very apropos, Mr Nott! One point to Slytherin for the excellent—and deliciously obscure—example," said Babbling. "Right. So if you don't already know about it, and you probably don't since it hasn't been seen in public for centuries, the Goblet of Fire is an ancient magical artefact designed to, more or less, figure out the 'best' wizard or witch for a given task from a defined set of individuals. I say it's an appropriate example because of course, it's the traditional method of selecting the champions for the Triwizard Tournament's Gauntlet It's also a spectacular example of many different runic systems working together to achieve something quite brilliant, with respect to runic systems, but that's all a bit too complex for your level at the moment. A couple more examples before we move on?"
A few more students offered examples of other uses of runic magic in the modern era, some of which Harry scribbled down to look up later, until Babbling asked for an example of runes that wasn't related to magic.
Theodore stuck his hand up again.
"Go on, then, Mr Nott," said Babbling.
"Sometimes in academic literature runic notation is used, specifically in arithmancy and sometimes in alchemy as well," said Theodore. "Except alchemy usually uses its own symbolism."
"Ooh, great answer. Yep! And on the recreational side of things, some publications only release editions written in runic scripts. So you can miss out on a lot of good stuff if you can't read them!" Babbling grinned widely. "Actually, those are the books we read at my book club!"
"Right. Now, here's the really disappointing part. I hate getting to this bit even though it happens every year, but… I have to say it. We won't be doing any runic magic this year. Or next year, if you take Ancient Runes for the OWL. And not the year after that, either. There is a practical, magical, component to the course in the final year of NEWTs—so in your fifth year—but not before then." Babbling shrugged. "So, with that out of the way… Let's get started with Old Norse! The first thing you need to learn is how to read the letters, which is the easy bit, really…"
Babbling strode over to her chalkboard and started to draw out the letters they would need to learn.
"Copy this down," she instructed as she drew, "since it really does help!"
Babbling spent the rest of the lesson teaching the mostly disinterested students how to read and say the various letters that differed between Modern English and Old Norse. The dry content of the class – buoyed slightly but only just by Babbling's bubbly and casual persona – had Harry itching to get out by the end of the class.
Fortunately, Ancient Runes was the last thing on Harry's timetable for the day, so when the lesson ended and the students fled, he felt rather free indeed.
"I don't think I'll be taking that next year," Harry said to Millicent and Blaise as they walked away from the class. Theodore, Tracey, and Daphne walked a little behind them, chatting rather a lot more enthusiastically about the Ancient Runes class they'd all just sat through. "'Here's all of the cool magic things you can do with runes, but don't get excited because you won't be doing any of them', is basically what she said."
Blaise snorted.
"I know! It's bollocks. I already knew I wasn't taking it next year, but… She is fit, though, isn't she? So it could be worse." He paused and glanced at Millicent. "Er, sorry."
"She is, to be fair," said Millicent with a little shrug. "I don't reckon I'll take it to OWLs, either. Those three must be mad to have enjoyed it," she said with a little gesture at the three others behind them.
"Got your heart set on Divination, have you?" asked Harry.
"As if!" said Millicent. "I'll probably take it for the easy O, but the only optional I'm interested in really is Magizoology."
"Anyway, anyone want to go over that Transfiguration homework we've got due after lunch? I know we've got the frees and lunch before but... Might as well do it now," said Daphne.
"Er, nah," said Harry. "I was going to go do some flying practise before lunch, so…" He shrugged. "And I've mostly finished it anyway."
"I'll go over the homework with you, Daph," said Tracey. "I think I messed up a bit in the middle…"
"I'll come, too," said Theodore.
"I could use the help," said Millicent. "You're good at the writing bits, Daph, but I'm just… not."
"I'm going to practise jinxes for the duelling," declared Blaise. "It's still early but you can't go wrong with a bit of extra jinxwork, can you?"
The six Slytherins went their separate ways once they reached the Common Room. Harry dropped off his books and other equipment and went to collect his Firebolt from the broom sheds, whereas Blaise slinked off to wherever he planned to practise jinxes, and the others settled down in the study area to do homework.
Harry spent the rest of the morning working on manoeuvres, although the closer it got to lunch, the more he started to just fly for the fun of it. He spotted a few other dedicated flyers out in the air, too – Draco among them on his Nimbus 2001 - but they all mostly kept their distance from each other, using the expansive Hogwarts grounds to their advantage so as not to get in each others' way
By the time Harry left the air and went to lunch, he was exhausted in the best possible way.
Tuesday brought with it the first of the Alchemy lessons.
"Does anyone know where the classroom is?" asked Tracey as the group left the dungeons. "I don't think I've ever been to it."
"What's it say on the timetable?" asked Blaise. "I'd have a look on mine but it's at the bottom of my bag…"
"I've got mine in my pocket," said Daphne. "Hang on." She pulled the timetable out of her pocket and looked at the room listed under Alchemy. "It's on the fifth floor."
"Shit," said Millicent. "That's quite far… Reckon we'll be late?"
"Actually, I think I know a shortcut," said Harry. "It's behind this tapestry… come on, I'll show you."
As it turned out, Harry's shortcut got them to the fifth floor in time, and they joined the rest of the combined Slytherin second year class just as the doors to the Alchemy classroom opened.
Oliver Wash, the boy closest to the door, lingered at the entrance.
"Let's just go," said Blaise, who nudged Oliver forwards.
That was just about enough to get the rest of the class moving, and second year Slytherin class filtered into the classroom hesitantly, since they hadn't been called, but it was time for the lesson to start and the door had opened.
Once inside, Harry took the chance to look around. The main part of the classroom resembled the potions laboratories down in the dungeons, although much brighter given the windows and its fifth-floor location, but with a selection of equipment attached to the cauldrons which Harry didn't recognise – although he thought he'd maybe seen some of the pieces at the museum in Barcelona. Posters with all sorts of arcane equations and diagrams plastered the walls, some of which had animated diagrams, and glass cabinets with strange crystals and other odd curios stood between the windows on one of the walls.
Professor Dee lounged in his chair at the front of the class in front of a blackboard with a complex diagram scrawled across it in chalk. He wore faded brown robes with scorch marks all over them, and as the last of the class had entered the room, he stubbed out the remains of a cigarette into an ashtray on his desk. Once everyone had sat down, in collections of twos and threes at the alchemical workbenches, he gestured lazily at the door and it slammed itself shut.
"So, this is Alchemy. Well, Introduction to, I suppose," said Professor Dee from his chair without bothering to take the register. "I won't lie to you: alchemy is hard. Probably the most difficult subject we offer at Hogwarts. I know some of you'll be thinking, 'Oh, Professor Dee, what about arithmancy?' Forget arithmancy. Child's play. Trust me on this one, because if alchemy were easy, I sure as sh—hell wouldn't be sat here teaching it to kids with no aptitude or interest." He produced another long, thin cigarette from a box on his desk and lit it up with a spark from his wand.
"I'd be the richest man in the world with a parade of gorgeous witches and wizards coming in and out of my bedroom on a private island in the tropics because of all that gold I've got. I'm talking mountains of gold. Alas, alchemy is hard, and I'm not especially good at it, so I've never managed to make a Philosopher's Stone. The funny thing is, I'm probably still the third best alchemist in the country. After the headmaster and the Grand Philosopher himself, Nicolas Flamel." He took a long drag of his cigarette and breathed out a cloud of green smoke.
"Of course, Dumbledore's far too busy and Flamel just doesn't care enough to teach, so here we are. See, the thing with alchemy is, it's not just about waving wands or following instructions. You've got to… alchemy is transformative, but not just for the things you're alchemising, right? You have to be prepared to… for…" He shrugged. "So… it's like how in potions, the process of preparation, or the particular way you stir, or the time at which you do the thing… all of those things are part of the magic. It's the same in alchemy, but more." He paused to take another drag of his cigarette and exhaled another cloud of green smoke. "You should have heard people say alchemy is esoteric, yeah? Well, that's because it is. You should know what that means by now, or else my colleagues have done a bad job with you."
He paused and looked expectantly at the class. Eventually, Theodore spoke up.
"Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall have gone over esoteric symbolisms and other things like that with us, sir," he said. "Is that what you mean?"
"Close enough," said Professor Dee. "Similar concepts. Alright. So you've got an idea what it means. Great. Hopefully you can extrapolate and synthesise concepts and we can move on without me having to teach you what you should already know. Can anyone tell me what you can do with alchemy? What's the point of learning it? Why bother at all?"
No one in the class said a thing. Professor Dee didn't exactly exude an aura of warmth, so Harry wasn't too surprised.
Harry knew the obvious things – the Great Work of alchemy, the Philosopher's Stone, allowed its holder to turn lead into gold and create the Elixir of Life. His trip to the museum in Barcelona had hinted at other possibilities, such the Universal Panacea, or any of the Dark applications tried by that mad Spanish witch, but the question felt almost like a trick. But as no one else had offered anything at all, Harry put up his hand.
Professor Dee pointed towards Harry with his cigarette.
"Potter, go."
"Well… there's the Philosopher's Stone to make gold and life-extending potions, but I know only Nicolas Flamel has made that… Er, one of the things alchemists try to do is make the Universal Panacea—like a kind of a potion that can heal any illness." When Harry finished speaking, Professor Dee simply stared at the class while he continued smoking.
"Well, yeah, those are things you can do with alchemy," said Professor Dee eventually. "I mean, not you, probably. Or me. Maybe Dumbledore, if he tried really hard. But I meant what sort of things can the average alchemist do? Since I doubt any of you will ever create a Philosopher's Stone—no offence, it's just really difficult and none of you strike me as having undiscovered prodigious talent. Anyway, have five points for Slytherin, I suppose."
After a few moments of silence, Harry saw Daphne put up her hand.
"Yeah. You, girl."
"Daphne Greengrass, sir," she said primly. "Alchemists create the surrogacy elixirs, don't they? So two wizards can have a baby together?"
Professor Dee nodded.
"Yeah, we do. Five points to Slytherin. Stuff like that is the bread and butter of working alchemists these days—not that there are many," said Professor Dee. "Anyone else?"
Theodore stuck up his hand.
"Go on, then."
"Because alchemy is its own magical field, some of the rules and laws of other fields don't apply to alchemy, although the laws governing alchemy do apply," said Theodore. "So it can offer an advantage over other branches of magic, depending on what you want to do."
"I wouldn't have phrased it like that, but you're not wrong," said Professor Dee. "Have another five points." He ground the stub of his cigarette out into his ashtray. "Now, for the lot of you, this is just academic. You won't be touching an alembic this year, let alone attempting… well. There's a lot of theory we need to go over before I'd feel comfortable even letting you assist me, or… just don't think about practical alchemy, not yet. There's no point. You've got to get a good grounding in Colour Theory, you need to be able to solve the alchemical equations, you have to… it's not just dead metals and solvents. I don't know that any of you are cut out for it, honestly."
That idea that no actual alchemy would be done over the whole year disappointed Harry somewhat but hidden within the Professor's rambling Harry heard tantalising hints and glimpses of something deeper and rather a lot more interesting. Professor Dee seemed like an utterly inappropriate choice for an instructor of anything, let alone the esoteric mysteries of alchemy, but Harry supposed he could only work with what was offered. Harry thought that a combination of the assigned textbook, books in the library, and the more coherent parts of Dee's lectures would give him a decent enough basis for future studies in alchemy. Dee's apprentice had obviously managed to get somewhere with it, so Harry thought he could probably do it, too.
Harry listened eagerly to the rest of the lecture, although it went on in much the same way as it had started – cynical statements interspersed with actual insights into alchemy, punctuated by clouds of green smoke and allusions to something much more mystical. When the lesson ended and the students streamed out of the class, Harry found that most of his classmates had been completely unimpressed by the lesson or its content, and didn't seem to rate the field of alchemy, either.
"Well, that was a waste of time," declared Blaise as they walked back to the dungeons. "With him as the teacher, why even bother going to lessons?"
"I didn't think it was that bad," said Daphne. "He shouldn't be smoking that in front of us, but he must know what he's doing or Dumbledore wouldn't have given him the job."
"You can't actually mean that," said Blaise, aghast. "Dumbledore gives all sorts of nutcases jobs! That doesn't mean they're competent."
"Dumbledore's not that bad," said Tracey.
"Well, he hired Quirrell, didn't he?" said Blaise with a sideways glance at Harry.
"Well, alright," agreed Tracey. "But apart from Quirrell…"
"The Divination professor is an alcoholic who went mad last year," pointed out Theodore. "He brought her on, too."
"Okay, apart from Quirrell and Trelawney," said Tracey with a shrug.
"And then he's brought in Mad-Eye fucking Moody to teach Defence," said Blaise. "Moody, who sees Dark wizards in his cornflakes and drinks from a secret flask."
"And Hagrid, who hatched and kept an illegal dragon in his wooden house," added Millicent. "I thought that was really brave, but it was an awfully stupid thing to do, considering. And Dumbledore even gave him a promotion this year."
"Maybe some of his choices are a bit questionable," admitted Tracey, "but…" She looked towards Harry, as if appealing to him for a bit of assistance.
"But he's mostly done a good job staffing the school," said Harry. "And I do think that Dee knows what he's on about, sort of, anyway. And whenever people talk about alchemists they always mention Flamel and Dumbledore, so if he's the next best after them, he can't be too bad at it, can he? I mean he did say he wasn't very good and he doesn't seem like a good teacher, but…" Harry shrugged. "It could be worse—he could be Binns."
"There might only be three qualified alchemists in the country, Harry," said Theodore with a wry little grin. "So then he's the best by default. But fair enough."
Harry let out a little chuckle.
"Yeah, I mean, maybe."
The six of them, along with half of the other second year Slytherins, made their way back down through the castle towards the history department, and soon enough the topic of Alchemy was long forgotten.
Harry's last lesson of the day was also his first lesson in Magizoology – the class taught by one of the new teachers and Hagrid the Groundskeeper, who Harry assumed was now some sort of teaching assistant or apprentice. Just before Magizoology Harry and the rest of Viper group had a free, which they'd spent in various different parts of the castle doing a collection of different things. Harry had wanted to go flying but had instead gone to sit in the library to do the newly-assigned Charms homework with his friends.
That meant, however, that the six of them had to trek through the castle and out onto the grounds where the lesson would be held.
"I'm not sure how I feel about lessons next to Forest," said Theodore once the area where the lesson would be held came into view. "What with the Acromantulas and God only knows what else is in there."
"They killed and kidnapped those Aurors last year, didn't they?" said Blaise. "So I don't fancy our chances…"
"I think it's alright," said Tracey hesitantly, "since we're with the professor and Hagrid. And everyone says Hagrid is like the only person the centaurs and the Acromantulas will let in the Forest, so…"
"The Aurors did go in without Hagrid, as well," said Harry, "and they were being arseholes."
"And I don't think we'll be going in to the Forest," said Daphne, "which should be much safer."
"You lot are babies," said Millicent. "The Acromantulas only go after you if you invade their territory, same with the centaurs. Even if we do go into the Forest, I bet we'll stay well away from all of them."
"I suppose," said Theodore. "At least the really dangerous stuff will be left until NEWTs…"
When they reached the area in front of the Forest where Professor Grubbly-Plank and Hagrid stood, Harry saw a little hastily constructed paddock filled with animals that looked half like horses and half like birds.
"What was that about leaving the really dangerous stuff until NEWTs?" said Blaise. "Bloody hippogriffs. They say if you look at them funny, they go half-mad."
"So don't look at them funny, then," said Millicent.
"You lot are in for a treat this afternoon," said Grubbly-Plank after she'd taken the register. "Mr Hagrid here has graciously allowed us to work with the hippogriff herd that he has personally trained over the last few years. Hippogriffs are magnificent creatures, as I'm sure some of you will already know. They can be a bit difficult to handle, but if you all listen and keep your wits about you I'm sure nothing will go wrong."
"It's a pity some of us don't have any wits to start with," muttered Blaise.
"This is an introduction to the course," continued Grubbly-Plank, "so don't think you'll be getting the like of hippogriffs every week. This year we'll be covering the very basics, getting an understanding of the different types and varieties of magical creature and their behaviours and how they live. While most of the course will be practical in nature—handling, feeding, maybe even a few hatchings or birthings if we're lucky—there is a certain amount of theoretical content we have to cover, so do keep that in mind. That being said, I'm not overly fond of parchmentwork myself, so we'll try to keep it to its absolute minimum! But we thought—myself and Mr Hagrid—that hippogriffs would be a nice introduction to the sorts of creatures we'll be studying at later parts of the course, for the OWL year and naturally, the NEWTs. You can think of Magizoology as a counterpart to your studies in herbology, if you like," said Grubbly-Plank. "Magical creatures of all kinds have many, many things of value for wizards—we use their body parts in our wands, potions, and even our clothes! Some magical creatures are intrinsically important to their environments, to the functioning of their ecosystem… and others are simply interesting creatures to study. But for myself, it's a love of all creatures great and small that got me into it. Whatever the case is for you, I can guarantee it's worth learning about."
Professor Grubbly-Plank nodded as if satisfied with herself and her introduction to the course, and then continued.
"Now, I'm going to hand you over to Mr Hagrid for an explanation of how best to interact with the hippogriffs. He is the resident expert on the subject, after all—he certainly has much more practical experience with them than I do, since this herd has been under his care for quite some time! Mr Hagrid, if you please," said Grubbly-Plank with a little gesture to the large man.
"Alrigh'," said Hagrid. He moved forward to address the class. "Now, the thing yeh've got ter understan' about hippogriffs is, they're right proud creatures, and smart enough ter understan' rudeness. Some people don' believe it, but they know what yer sayin' to 'em. An' believe you me, yeh don't want a full-grown hippogriff ter get angry at yeh—those claws are right sharp!" He gave out a little chuckle. "Now, all's yeh need ter do ter show an hippogriff yeh respect 'em is do a little bow, like this," said Hagrid. He did an awkward little bow as a demonstration, then looked out across the class. "Any of yer willin' ter try a bow?"
Nobody seemed eager to stand in front of the hippogriffs and bow, and Harry certainly didn't feel like offering himself up. It wasn't that he didn't trust Hagrid – he felt sure that the giant man knew what he was doing – but rather that exposing the back of his neck to such a creature felt like an inherently bad idea.
In the end, Millicent put herself forward.
"I'll do it," she said.
"Very good, Miss Bulstrode!" said Grubbly-Plank. "Now, be sure to follow Mr Hagrid's directions exactly and we shouldn't have a problem!"
Millicent nodded and joined Hagrid near the paddock fence.
"We'll get yeh sorted with Buckbeak," Hagrid said as he opened the gate and directed Millicent inside. "'E's a good lad, is our Buckbeak, but remember what I said—always show respect ter an hippogriff. Now, bow to 'im, and when 'e bows back, yeh can pet 'im, all nice like."
Hagrid led a particular hippogriff away from the rest of the herd and towards Millicent. The large animal seemed utterly unimpressed by what he found in front of him, and he barely even looked at Millicent. To her credit, Millicent stepped forward immediately and gave a deep bow to the hippogriff. Eventually, Buckbeak returned the bow and Millicent rose, then laid her hand on the animal's neck.
"Oh, well done indeed," said Grubbly-Plank. "Five points to Slytherin, Miss Bulstrode! Yes, that is a remarkable example of how to earn the respect of a hippogriff. Now if we were at NEWT level, I'd have you ride them next, but I do think a simple interaction like this one is the better idea for students at your level, I'm afraid."
"Say thanks to 'im," said Hagrid, "then yeh can back out of the paddock slowly."
Millicent followed his instructions and left the paddock.
"Who's next?" asked Hagrid. "Groups of three now. Don't be shy!" He glanced towards Grubbly-Plank for confirmation, then brought students into the paddock in groups of three.
Harry entered it with Blaise and Theodore about half-way through the lesson, after a few other groups had managed to interact with the hippogriffs without incident. Harry felt much better about bowing to one, and although he did still think it was a bonkers idea, he could accept that it was simply what one did if one wanted to interact with a hippogriff.
Harry was given a mare named 'Snowfeather', a name Harry assumed referred to her bright white feathers. The large creature seemed friendly enough, although no less proud than any of the other hippogriffs in the herd. She refused to look directly at Harry, instead gazing at a point above his head and behind him some distance away, at least when she wasn't picking bugs out of her feathers with her sharp beak.
Once in front of Snowfeather, Harry dropped into a bow and waited what seemed like an eternity for the hippogriff to return it. When she did, he grinned widely to himself and stroked her neck. Hippogriffs were magnificent creatures, and Harry thought it was probably worth it going through the rigmarole to get close to them… although he couldn't say he'd be willing to do it particularly often.
After everyone had been given a chance to greet a hippogriff – although not everyone had taken it - Hagrid and Professor Grubbly-Plank went through some explanations of where and how hippogriffs ordinarily lived in the wild. Harry found the content interesting enough, although it was difficult to take notes without a desk or a table in front of him. By the end of the lesson Harry felt like Magizoology would be a good class to end Tuesdays on – at least in the summer while the weather was still fine. He thought the novelty of outdoor classes would wear off in the rainier, colder months still to come, but that was a problem for another day.
At the end of the lesson, as the second year Slytherins made the trek from the Magizoology area back to the castle, the mood amongst Harry's friends at least was better than it had been going out.
"That was brilliant," said Millicent. "I know they said we won't get stuff like that every week, but it was pretty cool getting up close to a hippogriff."
"It could have been much worse," said Theodore, and Harry thought that was probably as close to an agreement with Millicent about Magizoology that Theodore would ever reach. "Grubbly-Plank seems to know what she's on about and—I can't believe I'm saying this—so does Hagrid. If she can keep him from fetching dragons or nundus or whatever other ridiculous creatures he thinks are cuddly to lessons, it won't be a total waste of time."
"I don't reckon they could get a permit for a nundu," said Millicent. Harry thought she sounded disappointed, which was mad even though it would be quite in character for Millicent.
"At least both of them have still got all their body parts," said Blaise. "That's a point in their favour, as loath as I am to admit it. Kettleburn was meant to be missing fingers, a foot, half of one of his legs… Say what you want about Hagrid—and I've said a fair bit myself—at least he's still got all his fingers."