THE MANOR

I forgot to disclaim. How tragic. One must, after all, keep up with pointless tradition …

Disclaimer: This all belongs to JKR, one of the richest women in the world, which I am most definitely not.

Chapter 4 – Figg and Pegasus

Hermione woke up with a jolt. She had just had a rather disconcerting dream, because it had featured nothing, except for warm, glowing, golden light. Rather peculiar, she frowned, as she sat up in her four-poster, velvet, red-curtained bed.

A thud landed on her lap, and Hermione smiled. 'Good morning, Crookshanks. Had your breakfast yet?'

Crookshanks purred as Hermione stroked him, which she took to be an affirmation of her question. Glancing over, she could see that the bowl which Crookshanks ate from had been filled by the house-elves … and emptied by the orange furball.

She gave Crookshanks one last pat on the head, then stood up. Hermione looked at her clock. It was already half past seven. She had meant to do some History homework before going to breakfast. That seemed unlikely now, since breakfast was at eight. Hermione changed quickly, then hurriedly woke the other girls who were all sleeping soundly.

Lavender yawned widely. 'What's the time,' she asked, voice slurred from sleep.

'Quarter to eight,' Hermione replied.

Lavender groaned. 'I'll skip breakfast,' she said, and burrowed into her blankets.

'That's not healthy,' Hermione said sharply. Her extremely health-conscious dentist parents had always forbidden Hermione from skipping breakfast.

'I don't care,' Lavender said sleepily.

One of the other girls rose lethargically, but the others kept on sleeping.

Hermione shrugged. She had done her best waking them, so she might as well leave now.

Putting her books into her book satchel, she skipped downstairs to the Great Hall. She was starving, for some peculiar reason, and sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Harry and Ron who were all awake.

Ron was staring at their timetables, which they had received a couple days ago, in disgust.

'Care of Magical Creatures with Slytherin again this year,' he said. 'Right after Defence Against the Dark Arts.'

'That'll be interesting,' Harry said eagerly. He was looking forward to talking to Arabella Figg.

'Care of Magical Creatures?' Ron said, horrified.

'No, Defence Against the Dark Arts,' Harry corrected.

'Yeah, but after Care of Magical Creatures with Slytherin?' Ron said, stuffing his timetable into his bag.

'It's not as awful as me,' Hermione pointed out. 'I have Arithmancy after that. With Slytherins too.'

'I know,' Harry sympathised. Hermione had already moaned loudly about this subject several times.

'I mean,' Hermione continued, warming to the topic, 'what was wrong in having Gryffindors with the Ravenclaws? I liked that perfectly well. But instead, now they have to shove us with the Slytherins.'

'You have the Hufflepuffs too,' Ron said helpfully.

Hermione gave him a freezing glare. 'There are two people in Hufflepuff doing Arithmancy. That's why they're combining Gryffindor, Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Because all of us combined makes less than the total amount of Ravenclaws taking Arithmancy.'

'You'll survive,' Ron said buoyantly.

'Maybe Malfoy doesn't do Arithmancy,' Harry suggested.

'Maybe,' Hermione said doubtfully. 'I think he did it last year. I once saw him carrying an Arithmancy text book.'

'He could have quit,' Ron pointed out.

'Maybe,' Hermione said dubiously. She let out a long sigh, and began eating her porridge.

'Help,' she murmured, to no one in particular.

Their breakfast was finished quickly, and they went to Defence Against the Dark Arts eagerly. Harry was virtually hopping in his excitement. He looked happier than he had been for days.

The class assembled inside the room, and in a few moments, Professor Arabella Figg swept into the room.

'Good morning,' she said brightly. She didn't sound very much like an old lady – her voice was strong and somewhat forceful.

'Good morning,' the class muttered back.

She leant against the desk. 'I am Arabella Figg, in case you weren't listening at your opening feast. I'll be your main teacher in Defence Against the Dark Arts this year, and hopefully for the next two years as well.' Arabella Figg crossed her arms, and regarded the class. 'You can call me Professor Figg, or, if you prefer,' and she grinned, black eyes dancing mischievously, 'Mrs Figg.'

Harry gave a small smile from where he sat.

'This year,' Professor Figg continued, 'you'll have a bit of an updated Defence Against the Dark Arts course, in light of recent events. You need to be able to protect yourselves, and you haven't exactly received a completely thorough education in this area. From what I've gathered, you had Professor Quirrell in your first year, and learnt close to nothing,' she calmly criticised.

'Then, you had Professor Lockhart in your second year, and also learnt nothing, except,' she consulted the piece of paper she held, 'that you should never go mucking about with Cornish pixies.'

The class chuckled.

'In your third year, you had Professor Lupin. Lupin's a good sort,' Arabella Figg grinned. 'So you actually learnt something from him. However, as your third year course was centred on dark creatures, you didn't really learn anything except for how to deal with dark creatures, who aren't really that terrible in your third year anyway. Nothing big, like banshees, or dementors,' she grinned.

'In your fourth year, you had an erratic mix of Alastor Moody and Barty Crouch Jnr,' Professor Figg growled.

'In conclusion, your learning is woefully incomplete.'

Hermione glowed to hear this conclusion. It was clear that Defence Against the Dark Arts would involve some serious learning this year, and anything to do with serious learning thrilled Hermione to bits.

'You have two one hour lessons and one two hour lesson of Defence Against the Dark Arts a week,' Professor Figg continued, as a couple of people groaned. 'This workload will be added to for fifth years and above. By the time you take your O.W.L.s, you will know so much, that they will be easy. Commencing in October, you will also have extra "specialist" courses, with guest teachers. These take place one evening a week. The evening lessons will be taken jointly with another house.'

Hermione, excited at the idea of specialist courses, turned to look at Harry and Ron, who shrugged, not terribly excited.

'Gryffindor has been paired with Slytherin for those evening sessions.'

All three shut their eyes in horror. Defence Against the Dark Arts in the same class as Slytherin? That was about the same as giving the Gryffindors a death sentence.

Hermione raised a hand. 'Who will some of those specialist teachers be?' she asked hopefully.

'Remus Lupin and the real Alastor Moody will be coming. Lupin will be teaching you about defending yourself against Dementors mainly, and Alastor'll be telling you all about the Auror profession, and what you should do should you come face to face with a Dark wizard,' Professor Figg said. There were cheers. 'Bill Weasley,' her black eyes flickered to Ron knowingly, 'will also be making an appearance, first. There are others as well.'

'Now!' Arabella Figg startled them all, with her clap of her hand. 'Let us take the roll!'

The spry old woman nimbly lifted her feet over the desk she had been half-sitting on, and sat behind her desk, calmly, with a pen in hand over a list of the fifth-year class. She began taking a roll.

'We'll get to see my brothers,' Ron said, in a pleased undertone to his friends.

'And Professor Lupin,' Hermione added happily. 'We'll learn how to do a Patronus!'

'It'd be good to see Professor Lupin again,' Harry conceded, smiling.

'A Patronus though is very advanced magic. Professor Dumbledore must think well of us if he thinks we could handle a Patronus, or to even let us attempt it,' Hermione noted shrewdly.

'I can do it,' Harry quietly reasoned.

'Yeah, but you're the Boy Who Lived, you know, you beat off "Avada Kedvara" and all that stuff,' Ron pointed out, rolling his eyes. 'In other words, you're not exactly your average fifteen-year old wizard.'

The list was finished soon, and the lesson was spent with the class learning about cursed objects, and how to identify them. At the end of the interesting class, Harry, Ron and Hermione lingered behind as the others went out.

'Harry!' Arabella Figg, who had been wiping the black board, put down the duster, and embraced the surprised boy. 'How have you been doing?'

'I'm alright, Mrs Figg,' Harry unconsciously kept his old form of address, something that Arabella Figg, judging by the amused sparkle in her black eyes, did not miss. 'You never told me you were a witch,' he accused.

'And worry you further, Harry?' Professor Figg asked, grinning.

'Do you really live in Privet Drive?' Harry asked, curiously.

'Larks, yes,' the old woman said, nodding her head vigorously. 'I married a man – George Figg, who's a muggle, and he'd been living in Privet Drive for a while. He's dead now, poor old George.'

'I'm sorry,' Harry said. Then, curiously, 'Do you really like cats that much?' He made a face.

She laughed loudly. 'Yes, yes! Cats are brilliant creatures. So much cleaner than dogs.'

'How are Tigg and Tegg?' Harry asked politely. Those two cats had been injured in the holidays, and he had seen them in Mrs Figg's car being taken to the vet.

'Those two rascals are very well, thanks for asking, Harry,' her eyes dancing with laughter. The old Auror dropped the trivial, light conversation. 'Harry, are you okay?' Those black eyes were probing. Nothing would escape their firm truthfulness.

Harry turned his eyes away. 'I'm fine,' he said casually.

Hermione frowned. He was clearly not fine.

'Look, Harry, if anything ever goes wrong, feel free to tell me. If you can't reach Dumbledore, or if you just want to tell somebody, tell me,' Arabella Figg repeated urgently. 'You must keep yourself safe.'

Harry nodded, avoiding her direct gaze, and the three left the classroom.

'Are you alright, Harry?' Hermione asked him softly.

'What?' Harry asked, as if caught in a daze. 'I'm fine,' he waved off her concern.

Hermione's frown deepened.

Although they were a little late to Care of Magical Creatures, it didn't seem to matter, since Hagrid was still cleaning up some vomit left by a student from the previous third year class. The fifth year Gryffindor and Slytherin students were gathered near Hagrid's hut. Most were sitting on the fence, and behaving like six-year old children. Hermione noticed that Malfoy was leaning casually back on the fence, his two goons busy stuffing their faces with Droobles bubble gum.

Hagrid was finally finished.

'Greetin's,' he said, his face holding a broad grin, as he nodded to Harry, Ron and Hermione. 'You're now in yer fifth year at 'ogwarts, so that means you'll be takin' yer O.W.L.s,' he said, grinning. The class groaned. It was, Hermione reflected, a sort of tradition for students to groan at the mention of extra work. It would be kind of wrong if they didn't groan, even if they didn't mean it.

'Th' O.W.L.s aren't that 'ard in this subject, but there will be a written side to it all,' Hagrid continued. There were more groans at that. 'Half yer O.W.L.s mark will come from yer reports on th' various creatures we study. The other half comes from your exam. Th' practical side of th' exam will be easy,' Hagrid beamed. 'All yer have t' do, is usually to feed a specific creature, or some other special thing. We'll be coverin' that this year.'

'Sounds like we'll have to work this year,' Ron observed glumly. Care of Magical Creatures was usually very relaxing and easy.

'Any questions?' Hagrid asked them.

Nobody said anything.

'Good. We'll start today's lesson. Thought I might start th' year off wi' a bang,' Hagrid grinned, rubbing his hands together. The class exchanged worried looks. The last time Hagrid had started a lesson with a bang he'd brought in creatures that had been part-lion, part-eagle, part-horse. 'Today, we'll be lookin' at winged horses,' Hagrid said. 'If you'll all come about the back, we'll be able t' take a look at them.'

The class moved around the back, with an odd mixture of excitement ('flying horses!'), and, as was wise in this class, fear.

'Hagrid's not going to make us fly them, is he?' Dean muttered as he went around.

Harry wasn't sure anyone should make any promises about that.

They came to a smallish paddock, where the students gaped in awe to see four, large and rather magnificent, winged horses standing regally. They were impressively big, with their feathered wings folded precisely. One horse stretched his wings, making the class 'ooh' in excitement. Loose ropes around their necks, attached to the fences, ensured they did not fly away.

'These are Aethonans,' Hagrid pointed at two chestnut horses – one male, one female. 'They're more common in Britain and Ireland,' he added. Then, he pointed to a slim, grey winged horse. 'This is a Granian.' And finally, gesturing to a gigantic palomino that regarded them from startlingly clear blue eyes, 'an' this is an Abraxan.'

Hagrid turned to the students. 'There's another breed as well, can anybody tell me abou' them?' he asked.

Hermione's hand shot up, and she was surprised to see Malfoy's hand also rise lazily.

Hagrid looked suspiciously at Malfoy. 'Malfoy?' he asked the pale boy.

'Thestrals. They're black, and they can turn invisible, which makes them much harder to track down,' Malfoy replied accurately.

'That's righ',' Hagrid said, grudgingly.

Harry, Hermione and Ron though were staring at Malfoy. Since when had he co-operated in Hagrid's classes. Hang that, since when had Malfoy co-operated in any class?

'However, 'cause they're so 'ard to track down, lots of folk think th' Thestrals are like bad luck or summat,' Hagrid added. Lavender and Parvati gasped in horror.

'Like the Grim,' Ron whispered to Harry and Hermione.

'Nonsense,' Hermione scorned. She was not of the superstitious sort.

'Alrigh', we'll be dividin' into four groups so you'll all get a chance to come over and meet 'em without scaring them out of their wits. Don' all cluster about one of 'em. Be polite,' he added. The trio smiled, remembering how the Hippogriffs had also demanded politeness and respect from the students.

'Hagrid,' Lavender asked, face pale. 'What's the worst these horses can do?'

'They can kick a bit,' Hagrid admitted, 'and maybe bite a bit.' The students approaching the winged horses backed away alarmed. 'But be polite an' no 'arm'll come t' ye,' he said hastily. 'Don' provoke them,' he finished, giving Malfoy a hard look.

Hermione looked at her two friends, who both shrugged, and together they moved towards the winged horses.

'Harry, Hermione, Ron, keep an eye on Malfoy, alrigh', an' keep 'im out of trouble,' Hagrid muttered as they passed him.

'No problems,' Hermione assured the half-giant. The three reluctantly looked about for Malfoy and his cronies.

Hermione spied Draco Malfoy's white-blond head, and swallowed nervously. He was approaching the Abraxan, which was clearly the largest of all, yet was standing in a corner of the highly fenced paddock, rope slack as it made no attempt to join the other horses near the centre, where most of the students had congregated.

'What's he doing?' Harry had clearly also noticed Malfoy approaching the large, winged palomino.

Hermione and Ron looked equally concerned by Malfoy's behaviour, and the three went over to him.

Malfoy, by now, was standing right in front of the Abraxan, his grey eyes staring right into the Abraxan's peculiar blue eyes. The near white horse was still, and did not move, and the two almost appeared to be communicating in some strangely silent way.

'Malfoy, what're you doing?' Harry demanded of the Slytherin.

Draco Malfoy didn't move, but kept his stance. 'Don't worry, Potter,' he said almost absently. 'I'm not trying to get your precious gatekeeper fired.'

'Huh?' Ron looked completely confused.

He didn't respond, but moved forward, and placed one pale hand near the Abraxan's nose. The horse sniffed.

'Is he using Imperius or something?' Ron asked Harry, who was frowning.

'I don't know if that curse can be used on an animal,' Harry said. 'Can it?'

'I dunno,' Ron said, scratching his red head. 'Hermione?'

Hermione though had blocked out their conversation, all her attention on Draco Malfoy and the Pegasus. They looked so incredibly focused, eyes on each other, when suddenly the blond boy slipped the rope off from about the horse's neck and leapt lightly onto the winged horse's back.

'What?' Harry and Ron both exclaimed in shock.

Hermione moved closer, just as the horse sprang into the air, large wings moving powerfully, the Slytherin boy perched on its broad back. The rest of the class gasped, as they realised what was happening, with Hagrid's jaw dropping quite a wide distance.

Hermione couldn't help admiring the figure the horse and boy cut in the air. Both moved together with an innate grace, and their colouring matched admirably. The horse's coat and the boy's hair gleamed in the sunlight, casting what looked like an almost unearthly golden glow about them. With the aid of a quick spell, Hermione's enhanced eyes could just make out his face, so high up as it was, yet from what she could see, it was startlingly alight with a wild sort of exuberation, one hand punching the air as the other clutched the Abraxan's long, thick mane of hair.

Then, with what looked like reluctance, he turned the horse downwards, and spiralling, the horse landed majestically, shining white wings slowing its descent as it regally regarded the silent, shocked students.

Draco Malfoy slipped off the horse, and patting it affectionately, turned to face the class. His face was once more cool and indifferent, and one eyebrow was raised arrogantly.

'What did yer think you were doin'?' Hagrid roared, breaking the tense silence.

Malfoy turned slightly to the giant, irate teacher, his face completely expressionless. 'Is there a problem?' he asked calmly, even urbanely.

Hagrid looked lost for words, then raged on. 'Yer could've bin thrown, or worse,' he said, with right cause for fear. He had no need to repeat the experiences of 1993. 'This un was th' biggest too.'

'I never would have guessed,' Malfoy said, a slight smirk on his face as he glanced at his expensive gold watch. 'Oh look. Lesson's over.'

With that, he gathered his books and sauntered away, the rest of the class, and Hagrid, still gaping behind him.

Hermione found movement in her feet, and ran after him as the rest of the class dispersed. 'Wait, Malfoy!' she gasped, dodging people in the busy corridors of Hogwarts.

'What is it, Granger?' he asked curtly.

'What on earth were you doing out there with the Abraxan?' Hermione demanded, lengthening her stride to keep up with him.

'What do you think? Swimming? Having a picnic? Playing snap?' he said sarcastically.

'Okay. You were flying,' Hermione said impatiently. 'But how? How did you get it to agree to carry you?'

'It is a he,' Malfoy said pointedly. 'And he has a name.'

'What is it?' Hermione asked, curious. How on earth would Malfoy find out that Abraxan's name?

'Pegasus,' he replied shortly, and hurried on.

'The Pegasus?' Hermione gaped, then realising he had kept going, hurried to catch up with him again. 'As in Perseus and Medusa, Pegasus?'

'What do you think?' Malfoy said, not looking at her but smiling unpleasantly.

'Stop asking my opinion, Malfoy, and tell me something,' Hermione snapped, feeling definitely frustrated. She thought she had glimpsed a much nicer person up there in the air whom she could reasonably inquire about the flying horse and how (as her ever curious mind sought to enquire) he had managed to get it to agree to bear him.

Malfoy stopped abruptly outside the door to their Arithmancy classroom. 'It is called Pegasus. I requested permission to fly him. He agreed. I flew him. End of story.'

'You talked to it? How?' Hermione asked, interested.

Malfoy scowled, looking oddly furious at himself, and stalked into the classroom, Hermione close behind and brimming with questions about the flying horse, and Malfoy's un-Malfoyish behaviour.

'Good morning, Hermione,' Professor Vector greeted the Gryffindor as she entered the room. The purple-robed witch with red fly-away hair was standing at the front of the small classroom, writing on the blackboard.

Hermione slipped into the seat behind Malfoy, and looked about glumly. There were only four other people in the classroom besides her and Malfoy. Two were Slytherins (a boy and a girl, both of whom Hermione was relieved to see were mild in their House beliefs), the other two Hufflepuffs (both girls). She was the only Gryffindor. The other girl, from her dormitory, who did Arithmancy had quit at the end of last year, opting to take up Divination instead.

Last year, Gryffindors had Arithmancy with Ravenclaw, and the class had held about twelve people. The difficult subject had been popular with Ravenclaws, and Professor Vector was head of Ravenclaw house. Arithmancy was complex, and involved hard work, unlike the softer, foggy, vague subject of Divination, which more people opted for. As such, Hermione was surprised to see Malfoy in her class. She hadn't thought he'd like to use his brain.

'Copy this down,' Professor Vector instructed the class when she had finished writing. There were some questions on the board, and Hermione did so quickly, even as Professor Vector went to her desk and began writing.

Hermione stared at the problems. They were fairly simple for her, and probably quite difficult for the rest of the class. Hermione had always found Arithmancy easy, an opinion not really shared by the others. Today, though, she was half distracted from her work, finding herself insanely curious when she saw Draco Malfoy in front of her working through the questions quietly and studiously, with no apparent difficulty. Yet more odd, un-Malfoy behaviour today.

'Stop staring at me, Granger,' Malfoy suddenly said to Hermione without warning, his back still to her as he appeared to continue working. Professor Vector was currently helping one of the Hufflepuffs with the questions.

Hermione jumped, face flushing. 'I'm not staring at you!' she hissed.

'There's nothing at all interesting about my back,' Malfoy continued, as if she hadn't spoken. 'And if there is, it's none of your concern,' he added placidly.

Hermione gaped at him, before turning back to her work, attempting to concentrate while thoughts of Malfoy behaving as he had flew through her mind at whirlwind speeds.

'I'd like to check your work now,' Professor Vector instructed after another few minutes had gone past. 'While I do that, read through chapter one of your new text books.'

The students handed their work to the front of the class where the teacher sat, and obediently turned to chapter one of their new textbooks. Hermione had, naturally, already read that chapter and the rest of the book several times while she had been at the Weasley's. Now, she attempted to force herself to re-read chapter one, but found her eyes often drifting back to Malfoy's back, and stared at him thoughtfully while he occasionally turned a page in the textbook.

Professor Vector had finished, and now she handed back the work.

'Excellent, Draco,' she said approvingly as she neared the blond Slytherin. 'Full marks.'

Hermione sat up in surprise, looking at him. She had never thought Draco Malfoy could get full marks in a difficult subject like Arithmancy.

Professor Vector meanwhile, had reached her.

'Good work, Hermione,' the purple-robed professor said pleasantly. 'Just a bit of a careless error on the sixth question where for some reason you substituted four for three.' She looked at Hermione shrewdly. 'I must say, that is the first time you've never come top in the class for your work, but,' she quickly added seeing Hermione's worried face, 'we all make careless mistakes and this doesn't go towards the O.W.L.s. Besides, it wasn't a test.' That last statement pre-empted Hermione's open mouth, ready to ask that exact question.

Professor Vector continued on to the other students in the class. Hermione sat back in her seat, gazing contemplatively at Draco Malfoy. She could hardly believe he had enough intelligence to get full marks and, well, beat her at Arithmancy, the tough subject that required brain power and clever deductive powers.

The object of her thoughts turned around at that moment, a sneer on his face as he leaned against his desk. 'Nice to come second in class for once, Miss Granger?' he asked mockingly, taking on the pomposity of a teacher.

'Shut up, Malfoy,' Hermione said, her face definitely red with embarrassment. She changed track. 'Now that you've beat me though, would you mind telling me what happened this morning at Care of Magical Creatures?'

The sneer fell of Malfoy's face, and his eyes became guarded. 'Nothing happened, Granger. Just how many times will I have to say that before it gets into that bushy head of yours?' He sounded rather exasperated at her persistence.

Hermione was equally frustrated. 'Something definitely happened with that Abraxan,' she snapped.

'The Abraxan –' he began.

'Has a name. I know. Pegasus,' Hermione said shortly. 'But what were you doing with it? You could have been killed.'

'Concern, Granger? From you?' he pretended to look touched, making Hermione grip the edge of her seat to prevent herself from flying at him in fury.

'Of course. I'm concerned about Hagrid's welfare,' Hermione retorted.

'You worry about that big oaf too much,' Malfoy scoffed. 'He can deal with his own affairs.'

'Well look what happened to him in third year,' Hermione said through gritted teeth. 'All because of you.'

'And that stupid creature,' Malfoy added, half under his breath.

'Why didn't you do something with Buckbeak like you did today? Be polite and courteous?' Hermione demanded.

'It's different now,' Malfoy mumbled, half-dazed, and he turned around, leaving behind an even more confused Hermione. He ignored her for the rest of the lesson, and left the classroom quickly when the lesson ended before Hermione could talk to him again.