When Harry came downstairs for Breakfast, he found Ron and Hermione in extraordinarily good moods.

"Hello, Harry, How are you this morning," Ron said, smiling in an almost scary way. Hermione stuck a platter of crispy bacon up to his nose.

"Have some breakfast, Harry," she said.

Harry yawned, warily eyeing the pair of them, but too tired to comment. They'd probably just gotten back together again. It had been his first in many consecutively endless nights to get decent sleep. He'd lately been dreaming of a river, well-more like a shallow fast-moving pond, really, and he could see, almost tangibly feel the texture of even the pebbles on the bottom of it. It was odd. Very peaceful, yet disconcerting because the rippling and flowing of the water made him queasy, and he always woke up, his scar hurting, and the back of his eyes burning.

He would've told somebody had this been the end of last year, but it was occasion so normal these days that to tell someone every detail of every gory or disturbing dream would have been a vast and exhausting task. He absently picked off a string of bacon from the plate that Hermione had offered him earlier and began chewing on it. He noticed that he was still wearing his school uniform because he'd forgotten to change the night before. He dug in his robe-pocket, fishing out the crumpled piece of paper that was his timetable. He made a mental note to head to the Prefect's Bath before heading to classes (Ron had told him the password).

"Can I see your timetables?" Harry asked, wanting to see what Minerva'd referred to about "changes in lifestyles", or whatever she'd been babbling about.

He saw that, as per the Professor's word, Hermione's looked almost identical to his own except for his Astronomy and N.E.W.T. Defense classes, in which place Hermione had Runes and Arithmancy. Ron's on the other hand was different from either of their schedules. He had all the basic classes with them still, but he was taking N.E.W.T. level classes in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. He was taking Astronomy and also Muggle Studies--a beginner class which because of his lack of prerequisite he would have to take with the fourth-years, which he probably figured would be easy. Ron instantly noticed Harry's out-of-ordinary attention to their academics, as they'd always been very unconcerned about that sort of thing.

"What's up, Harry?" he asked, looking at the schedules. He quickly noticed that his was different from his friends'.

"Guess I didn't do as well on the O.W.L.s as you guys. Oh well. Hey, how about the Quidditch team this year? We're going to have to set up tryouts for the Beater position now that Fred and George are gone--"

"Harry," Hermione interrupted, "How did you get in all these N.E.W.T level classes? They're really hard you know, and I'd think Snape would pass Neville before he let you in. Not that you're not smart or anything--" Ron looked a little put out at being cut off, but he suddenly began eyeing Harry suspiciously.

"You told me you did bad on the O.W.L.s, how did you get in?" he accused.

"I did!" Harry defended.

"Oh really? You know, you guys don't have to keep things from me, I'm not as dimwitted as you seem to think; look, it's poor old Ron who's been overshadowed by his brothers, let him have his fifteen minutes of fame!" Ron spat.

"It's really nothing like that, Ron, calm--" Hermione began.

"Well you both treat me like I'm that psychopathic dark-child seeking attention that everyone still thinks I am, how is that any different, hmm?" Harry yelled back, ignoring Hermione's pleas to calm down.

"Oh right. You just can't stand that I was made Prefect instead of you!" he said.

Soon Harry and Ron began to yell at each other, and some of teachers, along with the most of the students began to stare at them openly. Just when McGonagall stood up from the Teacher's Table to put an end to the row, Hermione'd beaten her to it. She noisily picked up her plate and slammed it on the table, managing to spill the pumpkin juice and stormed out, fuming. Her face was blotchy and her eyes brimming with unshed tears. The entire hall was silent for about a second after Harry and Ron had stopped yelling. Then both of them, sharing a shocked look and getting up from their chairs, briskly walked after her.

When they'd left, conversations broke out among all the groups of students. The teachers, especially McGonagall, looked grim.

"We're sorry," Harry told Hermione.

"So am I, Harry, Ron," Hermione said coldly, crossing her arms and looking away. They were standing in the deserted corridor outside of the Great Hall.

"Look, I have some issues to work out, and I've stupidly been inflicting my problems on you guys. I'm sorry I lost my temper Ron, and I'm sorry we didn't listen to you, Hermione--"

"You aren't inflicting anything, Harry," said Hermione sympathetically.

"But you guys are going out, and you're happy, and I should be happy for you guys too, but it's just that Sirius is...well..he's..." he struggled for the word, taking a deep breath, "he's...dead, and no one seems to care!" he paused for a bit, to register their reactions, "But I realize that maybe he wasn't the only one to miss James Potter. I mean--like he saw his best friend in me, I saw my father in him." Harry looked at his two best friends awkwardly, glad to have finally got the thing off of his chest.

"We're very sorry that we haven't been very supportive, Harry," said Hermione.

"Yeah, I guess we were trying so hard to avoid the subject, we didn't realize you had to talk about it to somebody," Ron added. They sat down at the Grand Staircase, Harry settling himself on the banister.

"And I'm sorry, you guys, for being angry all the time," Harry apologized. Hermione, he noticed, was near tears.

"You don't have to be!" she said, waving her hand. She stood up and caught the two very-much-taller-than-her boys with around the waist with either of her tiny hands and gave them both a sort-of hug. She smoothly linked each of her arms in theirs. With Ron on her right and Harry on her left, Hermione led the three of them toward the Herbology classrooms.

"What say we beat the crowd to the greenhouses, eh?" she said with a wavering tone, sniffing happily.

The class itself was very satisfying. No one bothered Harry about anything for once, and Hermione actually kept from being an annoying, know-it-all twit. All the Hufflepuffs flocked around the Prefect Ron, who was very pleased with all the attention. Especially from the girls, though he frowningly looked back at Hermione every ten minutes expecting her to be jealous. She was unperturbed, although, concentrating more on patiently teaching students who were having difficulties with tending to their unruly plants. Harry got the feeling that she was ignoring him on purpose.

They were tending to Jack's Beanstalks that day, which were really much like those of the fairy tale, except that the giant at the top didn't live in a house, but was part of the actual plant.

He (the ogre) was a plump, grumpy little thing with lots of hair that would apparently fall until they were bald by middle age (in about a week), and he was constantly complaining about the lack of nutrition in the dragon dung enriched soil that filled their pots.

"How about some good old fashioned rabbit? I'd kill for rabbit, you know, you idiotic witches don't know how to cook a rabbit to serve a giant with no manners, I'd swear it," one was saying to Hannah at the far end of the room as she was picking off the dead leaves from his beanstalk. "Watch it! I can still feel that one, girl, are you blind, or something?" Hannah purposely pulled out a few perfectly live leaves in the same area until the giant howled in pain.

"Miss Abbott!" Professor Sprout reprimanded. The giant stuck out his tongue at her. Harry, finished with tending to his plant, looked away from Hannah to another corner of the room where another obnoxious giant was shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Gimme some damned meat, you meat-hoggin' human. Think you rule the world just cause you made fire. Damn it, I'd a discovered fire too if I weren't stuck to this damn plant drinking water all day," he was yelling at a timid looking girl, his face red and blotchy. The girl flinched as she watered the plant, trying to ignore him.

The boy next to her, Neville Longbottom, was avidly listening to his own giant, carefully putting in the dragon-dung with the dragon-hide gloves securely fastened on his deft little hands.

"Careful, there's already a lot of dung on that side. You know, that stuff's really full of nitrogen," he was saying thoughtfully, "Did you know that we were also flammable?" he said, when the giant next to him had mentioned fire, "The muggles actually burn our leaves in autumn when we finally die. They don't know that much about pollution yet, I think." Neville nodded unconsciously, patting the dung so that it spread evenly.

"Need any help, Harry?" asked Hermione, jerking Harry out of his involved observation. His ogre's head was drooping on its neck, and it was snoring softly.

"SHUT IT, YOU BLOODY PRIG!!" Harry heard the voice of the timid girl saying to her plant. He smiled.

"Calm down, Eva," someone else said.

"No thanks, Hermione," said Harry, "But I think Ron would really like your attention." Hermione frowned for a while, looking over at him as he was embellishedly relating to a crowd congregated around about his encounter with the troll in first year. Harry smiled. Hermione had given him advice about Cho last year, so he fully intended to return the favor.

"Hermione, remember last year when you told me about Cho, and why she acted a certain way during the date we were on?" Hermione nodded, quickly looking at Harry to avoid catching Ron's eyes as he turned to look at her.

"Cho was telling me about Roger Davies? Ron is doing the same thing. We boys like to be reassured once in a while, and the only way for us to see to that is seeing you writhing in jealous agony." Harry didn't know much about these things, but he did know Ron, and he'd just extended Ron's general attitude toward women to fit all of his gender, as he was as average as a wizard ever got.

"I know he wants me to be jealous, Harry," said Hermione. "But I'm really not! That's the problem! Of course, I could pretend--"

"Then do that!"

"But it wouldn't be right!" Harry grudgingly admitted so with a nod, as Hermione explained further. "Harry, Ron likes me a lot. And I like him too, but just...not as much as he likes me, y'know?" Harry nodded, figuring it was somewhat like himself and Cho--though that was more of a crush.

"But then why are you going back out with him then?" he asked, now genuinely perplexed.

"I shouldn't, that's the problem. Part of me, just because I don't want to hurt his feelings, and the other part, I suppose, I really like the thought of going out with Ron..." Hermione looked at Harry, trying to gauge the expression on his face. "I know I'm leading him on, it's really horrid of me, but I do love him. He is my best friend, after all--"

"No, no, Mione, I understand." Harry looked at Ron, now laughing at one of Ernie Macmillan's jokes. "If it were someone else, I'd tell you to tell him the truth, how you feel, but knowing Ron," he looked back at her, trying to hide a small grin, "he'd probably go ballistic. Sorry, but, you're really in it."

"Gee, thanks a lot, Harry, you've helped," Hermione said, glaring at him. Harry smiled sarcastically, feeling happy that for once he'd helped someone else with their problems after a long spiel of being bombarded with his own stinky life.

"Glad to be of use," he said, as Professor Sprout announced the end of classes. Harry and Hermione began to rinse off their gloves and clean their work area and replace the shovels and such, but Ron was still preoccupied, and the bunch clustered around him showed no signs of disbanding. The Advanced class was next, and apparently, most of the Hufflepuffs were in it.

"Bye Ron, Neville," Hermione grumbled, pushing her bag behind her as she walked out behind Harry.

The Advanced Transfiguration class was exactly that. Really, really advanced. There were only four people in it, including himself and Hermione; the other two being, surprisingly, Parvati and Lavender. McGonagall had paired them up almost as soon as she walked in the room, (Harry with Hermione, and Parvati with Lavender) and without greeting them, or even taking attendance, gave them a teacup and a small block of aluminium each.

"We'll work this year, on transfigurations between states of matter. There's a lot of physics involved in this where in the past you've only been trained in the magic and incantations and the technical intricacies of the matter. Miss Granger and Mister Potter, I assume you've taken some general courses in the muggle world involving this particular thing, and though you may not remember much, I expect you'll do well enough." McGonagall paused for a bit as if to let the students take it all in. And indeed there was a lot to take in, as the whole speech was abrupt and devoid of any introduction or preamble.

McGonagall had heavy bags under her eyes, and she looked like she would collapse any second. She stared fixedly at them as if daring them to comment on her appearance so that she could tell them to sod off, or take some house points, but not one of the four dared. None of them spoke.

"Excuse me, Professor," Hermione said, in the manner that was so familiar to all the Gryffindors in her year, "But do we get any notes on this before we start?" McGonagall gave her such a warm smile that the others were very near fainting. "Of course, Miss Granger." She turned her back on all of them, waving her wand as a very complicated outline appeared on the blackboard. "Quills and Parchment out everyone," she began, as they copied it down grudgingly.

Hermione'd helped him a great deal with the Transfiguration, and he found the subject very intriguing now that he was receiving so much attention from McGonagall and a great deal less mindless note-taking. The physics and thermodynamics really captured his attention, and he found himself contemplating more and more about the magic that came so easily and quickly to him, and learning to appreciate it that much more. He worked through his frustration, when he couldn't get the object to transform or evaporate, and such, and they're collective encouragement egged him on. Together with Parvati and Lavender, the N.E.W.T.s level class was really like a study group, rather than a class.

He truly saw Hermione for her genius. He admitted, she could be stuffy at times, and overly rational, but hearing her talk about the lesson, nearly as competent in explaining things as McGonagall, it really made him feel as if he could do it, regardless of his ability to do so or not. When the class was nearly over, and all but Lavender had filled their cups with tea (hers was apparently still silver), Harry began to look at Hermione in a new light.

"Doesn't this still shine a bit in the light, Parvati?" she asked her best friend.

"For Chrissakes, Lav," she sighed.

"Have you ever thought of being a teacher, Hermione?" Harry asked, eyeing her thoughtfully. Hermione's head shot up, her eyes wide. She looked nervously at McGonagall who nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Yes. But Don't Tell ANYONE, ok? Not even Ron!" she said. Harry looked over at McGonagall, catching the exchange, but confused at why she was seeking her approval, and curiously scrutinizing Hermione's face.

"Tell what?" he asked.

"Professor McGonagall says--" Hermione cut herself off, glancing behind them at Parvati and Lavender who'd turned aound to listen. They shuffled quickly around, but Hermione bit her lip. "I'll tell you later," she whispered. There was a creaking of the door as Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan entered the classroom.

"After class, before lunch?" Harry requested quietly, now immensely curious about this revelation of Hermione's, too secret even for Ron's ears. He realized that he was getting to know a new side of Hermione, whom he'd taken so much for granted in the past. Possibly the side that Ron and Ginny saw in her, as boyfriend and best friend respectively, but which he'd obviously missed. Hermione nodded, and quickly moved over to allow room in between them on the bench for Ron.

When Ron came in and sat at his seat, he was moody and surly. He stiffly kissed Hermione and greeted Harry with a dull "Hey, mate." Harry glanced at the pair of them quietly and greeted Ron back. Still pensive, he began catching strains of McGonagall's commanding the others to calm down. They were turning mice into music-boxes as a review of last year, and they apparently had a fifty-inch essay to write that night on the influence of toad and mouse transfiguration on muggle mythology. Ron and Hermione had begun to whisper quietly, and Harry took out the Homework Journal that Hermione had given him to write down the assignment.

The class seemed to stretch on for hours. Hermione and Ron kept bickering over his mouse, which kept squeaking 'Fur Elise', to the best of its mortal ability, and was also looking thoroughly distraught at the two waving their wands angrily above him. Harry was only barely constraining his laughter. His own music box was visually fine, but played the Tchaikovsky in D flat minor, instead of D minor. A minor error, he thought, proud of the pun, but too lazy to worry about the Transfiguration.

When Lunch came around, Ron was effectively deterred by a few Ravenclaw Keeper wannabes asking him for tips on the tryouts. Roger Davies had graduated the year before, and Cho had been promoted to Captain. She was quick to book the Pitch in advance, and tryouts would be the coming Friday.

"And then she was like, really rude about Harry, and how he was all for seeking attention, comparing him to Trelawney...can you believe it? You'd think after that Daily Prophet exposé, ooh, that Hannah Abbott--" Ron was telling them, "I'm sorry for being a prat Herms, you were right." He smirked. "As usual." Hermione gave a weak smile, and a second-year and his two friends coming up to him. He had been talking about

"You're Weasley, right, the Gryffindor Keeper?" he'd said. Ron looked at Harry and Hermione, exasperated.

"Go ahead, you guys, I'll catch up." Ron turned to the boy, "so what'd you want?"

Harry had led them to an empty classroom nearby that he'd noticed on the Marauder's Map one night, and checked out on occasion in the past.

"So what's this big secret?" Hermione closed and locked the door behind them. She looked around, possibly looking for an opportunity to stall, Harry rather thought.

"McGonagall's retiring when I graduate. She wants me to take over for her," Hermione said gravely, looking at the ground.

"WHAT?!" Harry yelled, shocked. "Well, that's wonderful! Fits you, it really does!" Hermione forced her eyes back up to him.

"I'll be Head of Gryffindor House!" she cried, "I wonder how I'll ever be able to take her place! What if I do something wrong?!" she said frantically.

In a moment of impulse, Harry gave her a friendly hug. "Of course you won't," he told her fiercely, "You're Hermione Granger, you never fail at anything, remember?" She was momentarily shocked at his blatant compliment, realizing a bit later, that it could also be taken as an attempt at sarcasm.

"Thank you, Harry," she smiled, moving slightly away from him, "Dumbledore is promoting Flitwick to Assistant Headmaster, though, and he really deserves it, in my opinion. McGonagall is getting a job in the Ministry, undercover for the Order--that is if Voldemort is still around then. And I'll have turn eighteen first before I can take the job, so McGonagall is going to take me in for a year as apprentice, of course," rambled Hermione, quickly regaining her cheer. She hadn't even realized that she'd casually thrown in Voldemort's name, not in the least uncomfortable

"Of course," said Harry, nodding, "but tell me why you can't tell Ron again?"

"Well, I had to ask Professor McGonagall if I could tell you, but if I tell Ron, then I'd feel bad if he couldn't tell his family, and then Ginny'll be mad that she wasn't the one to know first..."

"I had no idea you and Ginny were so close."

"Well," said Hermione as she scanned the crowd heading toward their class for Ron, "I need some sort of intelligent female company don't I? If I have to hear how cute Dean Thomas is, or how sweet Ron is to me on more time, I'll personally strangle my dorm-mates. Who'll give a damn about Rules, or House Points then anyway, when I'm Head of The House, I'll reinstate as many points as I like."

"Why Hermione, I'm shocked! That's blatant abuse of authority! I think this Ron Weasley Character is not good for you at all. Not one bit." Harry teased, but Hermione looked proud.

"Speak of the devil. Hey! Ron, over here!" Harry signalled his arms toward himself and Hermione, and Ron caught his eye and smiled, pushing through the crowd to walk with them to grab a quick lunch, and then off to their last, and by far the most (potentially) exciting class.

***

Nymphadora Tonks was a very good actress.

So good, in fact, that she had everyone, including Ron, Harry and Hermione, completely convinced. To the trio, of course, that wasn't necessarily a good thing. She had succeeded in assuming a sort of Snape-ish character, but minus the Slytherin favoritism. She jumped at any chance to criticize all students, and more than any of them, she particularly relished in pointing out all the things that Harry was doing wrong.

They were then practicing the Incendius Charm, setting blocks of wood on fire. It was a simple charm, quick in its defense against Dark Creatures that were afraid of fire or especially sensitive to heat and light. She only wanted them to perform it to observe their techniques and how she could potentially "unlearn many bad habits picked up from a fully incompetent series of teachers, and unteach inconsistent, often useless material."

"Remus was good," Ron had muttered when she'd passed by saying the same. She'd rounded on him, and in her raspy, almost vulgar voice, took five points off for talking back to a teacher. Ron looked indignant.

Tonks' cover name was "Bombagoo Blek." It caused a humorous stir for about five seconds when it was first announced, but people quickly caught the look of caution in her/his murderous, sunken eyes and sobered.

"Notice how Potter's wand arm in dawdling down there, pointing at the floor. Never do that either, unless you feel the renegade floor is more of a threat than that Death Eater that sure to be killing you any second," A few Slytherins smiled contemptuously at Harry, "As a matter of fact, watch everything Potter here is doing, and do the exact opposite. It's not likely that any of you idiots will even live to see the day if this situation we're training for really happened, so why the hell not go for it?!" Professor Blek was saying. Harry noticed that Malfoy was sitting in his direct line of vision, and looking at him more than a little smugly. He glared directly at Tonks' scarred and carefully constructed face, hoping that all this self-restraint was going to reward him someday. Someday soon.

At the end of class, Tonks barked for the three of them to stay behind rather harshly, so that they were actually doubting if they were in trouble for real. Of course, they weren't, but Tonks on the other hand, may well have been. Hermione was baring her teeth, her fists clenched at Millicent Bulstrode, who was chuckling softly as she exited the classroom.

"Yes, Professor Blek?!" Ron spat when everyone'd left and they went up to her desk. Harry was looking slightly annoyed, but Hermione (as she hadn't been picked on) retained a faint hint of a smile on her face. The ugly face of Professor Blek looming in front of him disappeared momentarily, and now, the glint of mischief in the grey eyes gave the unkempt face a distinct Tonks-like appearance.

"I just wanted to clear the atmosphere, a bit Mr. Weasley, make sure we understand that there's no hard feelings?"

"NO HARD FEELINGS?!!" Harry cried, unable to control himself any longer.

"Jeez, Calm yourself, Potter, you wouldn't want to get on my bad side, now would you?"

"Your BAD S-?"

"Listen, Professor, leave us alone, ok, we didn't do anything to you?" Hermione reasoned, still smiling a little.

"Well, Miss Granger, I would like to point out that leaving the famous trio of Hogwarts alone while parading about as an evil Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, in the House of Slytherin, that supposedly has a particular dislike for you three, no less, now, that would be grossly out of character don't you think?"

"You don't have to go that far, Tonks!" said Ron frustratedly.

"Ok, ok, shhh, don't blow my cover, you moron!" Tonks said, pretending to look around, worried. She gave a huge grin that looked strangely out of place on her ragged façade.

"Wipe that stupid smirk off your face, Professor, you're really too ugly for it." Harry said, before turning on his heel, annoyed, and a little humiliated. He lightly smacked Hermione's shaking shoulders as she walked in front of him, repressing her giggles.

"Hey wait!" the Professor protested as they exited, "I wasn't smirking! I, the evil Bombagoo do not smirk! I don't smile at all because I've had a tortured childhood! And I was made fun of in primary! Come back here, and see all the evil things I can do!"

When they were down the corridor, Hermione burst out in giggles, and Ron and Harry ogled at her as if she'd grown an extra head.

"Extraordinarily bad taste in men, don't you agree?" she said. They both frowned.

"Shut up, Hermione," said Ron.

"Are you just wound up 'cos she took off points? Humiliated you? Humbled your pride?" she laughed a bit more.

"Shut it, Hermione!" said Harry. Hermione, though, could not stop giggling.

"It was really very good, you have to admit!" she forced out in between giggles, "I mean, Bombagoo? Classic!"

"Shut UP, HERMIONE!" said Harry and Ron together.

But Hermione did not shut up.