A/N: I'm back from vacation. Nice place, Myrtle Beach. Few too many golf courses, though. I was so afraid of being hit with a ball. My sister did great! She was second in her category, and third overall for Character Solos. Showstoppers is an alright competition. I'm just glad Julian wasn't there. I mean, it was sad that his mother died, but he annoys me to no end.
Anyway, a big thank-you to all of my reviewers:
Omni- YAY! You read my story! I might do that later, but I'm going to leave the sisters as minor characters for now, simply because that would be MAJOR confusing, and I have no ideas on how to do that without losing the attention of all my readers. Happy early birthday, even though you won't be reading this for a while. Have fun in China!
Magic Bunny- I love your fic! Glad you like mine. I'm still not sure I like it, but I'm getting there.
Andaisha- No, Dre, it is NOT Narcissa. I don't think I even want to know where that idea came from. But you will find out in this chapter.
Trillium- Who said Snape was going to be evil? I don't plan on making him evil. Have I even MENTIONED Snape in this fic yet? I can't remember…But DON'T expect me to make him the misunderstood person who deserves another chance. Because I won't.
All that said, allow me to continue on to the rant of the day. I love Pirates of the Caribbean! That movie is the second best movie in the world (Newsies being the first. Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, The Sound of Music, and all other movies I like follow after Pirates)! Orlando Bloom rules! So does Johnny Depp! I want to be that bloody girl! And I have yet to meet a person who doesn't like the song "Yo Ho (A Pirate's Life For Me)". I can't wait until The Haunted Mansion comes out. How many times will we get to hear "Grim Grinning Ghosts" (Also a great Disney ride song. But "Yo Ho" still beats it)? *Squeal* ORLANDO BLOOM! Sorry, but that guy is great. Not to say that Johnny isn't, because he's an excellent actor, steals the show, really, but the guy is 40! I suppose it could be worse, though. I mean, Sharon has that whole Snape thing…EW! Alan Rickman is…52…I think. THAT is gross. I'm going to stop here, since my sister is bugging me to go listen tot her play the keyboard.
…Wow. That was…odd. My sister has never taken a piano lesson, and she knows nothing about left hand, so she only plays the melody, and when she does that, it's really…jerky??? I don't know. She plays it…hesitantly. There we go.
This is a long enough author's note, so toodles for now!
DISCLAIMER: No money is being made on this, I own nothing, yada schmada etc.
Chapter 7
Everyone took their normal positions in the Potions classroom, Slytherins on the left side, Gryffindors on the right. As always, Snape wasn't there, but no one dared to do anything rash, because that would be the exact moment the Potions master stormed in. Hermione sat between Harry and Ron, quill in hand. Absently, she traced invisible patterns across the parchment in front of her. She jumped as the door swung open and Snape glided to the front of the classroom in a swish of black robes.
"I will not go through the normal list of rules and expectations, though I am aware that half of you still need reminding. This is your seventh and final year, and should you not prove yourself worthy, you will find yourself repeating the year next fall. In the spring, you will face your NEWTs. It is my job to see that you are adequately prepared for these examinations." He glanced over to the Gryffindors. "I can only imagine how few of you will pass.
"Your NEWTs demand that you know the highest level of potion-making allowed for your age. This includes some illegal potions. There are those," his eyes flickered over to Draco, "with whom I would trust any potion, but for those who are not trustworthy, I will be keeping an even closer eye. Anyone caught misusing or stealing an illegal potion," the Potion master narrowed his eyes at Harry, who stared back defiantly, "will be expelled without question, will not sit their NEWTs, and will not graduate from Hogwarts. I assure you that you will also be unemployed, or have a highly unsatisfactory employment."
The rest of the class went on like this, with Snape looking proudly upon the Slytherins and glowering at the Gryffindors. He outlined the rest of the week for them, and assigned the appropriate chapters for reading. Finally, the bell rang, and students filed glumly out of the dungeons.
"Why couldn't we have failed potions?" Ron complained. "Why could that slimy git have tested us on our owls and failed us? We all know he wanted to."
"You should be happy you got an owl in potions. Not many Gryffindors did," answered Hermione.
"Hermione, there are only eight Gryffindors in our year (A/N: of the people we know. Thoguh I doubt there's more. They would have been mentioned at SOME point, wouldn't they?)! The only person who didn't pass was Neville, and that was because he got two potions wrong."
"Hm," was the only answer he got.
Harry decided to change the subject before things got nasty. "What do you think we'll be studying in Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
"Let's see, shall we. The class is called Defense Against the Dark Arts. I'll bet we're studying Muggle literature! Isn't that a bit of a dumb question?" Ron said, laughing.
"I meant specifically."
"Oh."
Hermione joined the conversation. "And we still don't know who our teacher is."
They reached the classroom and peered in. The only people in there were the other Gryffindors, who had taken the short cut. The trio sat in seats beside each other, so they could comfort each other if the teacher was horrible. They glanced around the room, taking in the changes. There were a few wooden crates on the counters at the back, along with a bundle of wands ("What on Earth would a person need with so many wands?" said Hermione), five sneakoscopes, and two lumpy brown sacks. The few empty desks at the back were scattered with potion bottles of varying colours and viscosities.
"Look!" exclaimed Harry. "There're two chairs behind the desk! We've either got two teachers, or a very large one."
Ron looked toward the desk and choked. "Yeah, and look at what's on the desk!"
Harry and Hermione stared at the desk. "Ron," Hermione said curiously, "it's a sweets dish. Maybe the teachers, or teacher, are diabetic."
He chuckled. "Somehow, 'Mione, I don't think so. I'd recognize those sweets anywhere. What I can't understand is why. I mean, it's not likely at all…" He refused to say any more, despite his friends' efforts. They didn't have to wait long though.
"Good morning, Seventh years," said an all too familiar voice.
"Welcome back," said another.
"Welcome back yourselves!" shouted Dean.
"What in Merlin's name are the two of you doing here?" asked Ron.
Fred and George Weasley mocked sadness. "Now now, little brother," said George. "Aren't you pleased to see us?"
Fred motioned for silence. When the class settled down, he began. "You're probably all wondering why we're here, since we didn't technically finish seventh year, and we've got a perfectly good joke shop in Diagon Alley."
"The truth is," continued George, "we missed the old place. Dumbledore was having trouble getting a teacher for this year, and he refused to let the Ministry choose one. He looked over the requirements for this year, and apparently we came to his mind."
"Can't imagine why." The evil grin on Fred's face said otherwise. "This year is a quick review of Defense spells you already knew, and a couple of new ones…"
"Well, they would have been new if Harry hadn't taught them in fifth year."
"That isn't the point. This year plays strongly to the ideas of stealth, surprise, and improvisation."
The class snickered for a few moments. It was obvious now why they had been chosen as teachers, with all the sneaking they had done previously. Harry thought of something. "So who's running the shop, if you're here?"
"Lee," answered Fred. "He decided to go in with us after he didn't make it as a radio broadcaster for the Quidditch league."
Ron looked nervously toward the back of the class. "Erm, George…"
"That's Professor Weasley to you, Ron."
The younger Weasley rolled his eyes. "I'm sure. No one, not even the first years, is going to call you that."
"True. Anyway, you were saying something…?"
"How much of the stuff back there is safe?"
"All of it. So long as you don't touch it. I think."
"We're not even sure what half of that is. We just thought it looked interesting, so we grabbed some."
Slowly, the class inched forward, away from the mysterious contents of the packages.
"Right then," said George. "Down to business…"
*****
"Your brothers. Who would have thought?"
"They didn't say anything over the summer! I bloody well live with them and I didn't know! Can you believe that?"
It was dinnertime, and Ron still hadn't gotten over the fact that his brothers were teaching DADA. The Weasleys now joined the Head table for dinner, since their identities were known.
"I don't see why it bothers you so much, Ron," said Ginny. "They didn't tell me, either, but it doesn't bother me in the least."
"But you know what the best part is?" Harry cut in. "They'll really give the Slytherins what they deserve."
Hermione sighed. "As much as they would like to, Harry, it's highly unlikely that they'll do much. I mean, they can't, really. They'd lose their jobs."
"They still have the joke shop."
"But they won't sacrifice what trust Dumbledore gives them. And don't expect them to let you get away with everything, either, because they won't."
The students around her laughed aloud at the last remark. "'Mione," Ron said between fits of laughter, "if you were talking about Bill or Charlie, I might believe you. If it were Percy, we wouldn't even be having this conversation. But Fred and George? Ha!"
Hermione simply shook her head. Ron probably was right. The twins would grab every opportunity to favor Gryffindor and torment the Slytherins. And why not? They deserved it, and Snape certainly treated the Gryffindors badly. Her eyes wandered over to the Slytherin table, and rested on Draco Malfoy. He deserved it more than any of the others. She planned on getting him back for the torture he put her through. Every insult cost him a little more humiliation. Of course, the things she did would certainly be within the school rules, but they would come very close to the line. She couldn't afford to cross it.
"'Mione!" shouted Harry for the fifth time. Hermione snapped out of her thoughts. "We're going to the Common Room to play Exploding Snap. Want to come?"
"No thanks. I've got to head to the library for some research books. Maybe another time." She gathered her things, finished her last bite, and headed towards the exit.
"That was a bit odd."
Ginny stared blankly at her brother. "It's Hermione. I don't even want to know how you find it odd that she's spending her free time in the library."
"Good point." Harry, Ron and Ginny rose from the table, and headed back to their Common Room.
*****
Orwen looked out the window of the cottage. "I don't like the quiet of waiting, Orddu."
"We must be patient, sister. We are forbidden to interfere, unless it has been set out for us to."
"We've done naught for nigh a thousand years!"
"The time will come, sisters; I promise you."
"I'll do, and I'll do…"
Orwen turned to Orgoch. "Stop that! That was a messy end brought upon them, when we interfered."
"Aye, but the end was not our doing. We told no more than we should have."
"Indeed," agreed Orddu. "The faults were their own. It was meant to come to such an end."
"Will this one be the same?"
"We cannot say. It is a matter of the choices."
*****
Harry wiped his forehead, which was covered in ash from the exploding cards. "Why is it always me?" he complained.
"Oh, come on, Harry. It's not always you. It's gotten me once, and Ron…Well, all right, so it hasn't gotten Ron." A large grin could be seen on the older Weasley's face through the wisps of smoke rising from the table.
"Maybe we'd better pack it in, before the Boy Who Lived suffers death by exploding playing cards."
The three Gryffindors cleared the table of soot, magically healed their blistered hands, and said goodnight. Half an hour later, Hermione stepped through the portrait hole, making sure no one was up past curfew. When she was satisfied, she quietly closed the portrait and headed down the corridor.
Hermione made her way toward the last set of stairs before her dormitory. She gazed at the portraits lining the stairway, not paying attention to the path in front of her. She bumped into something hard, and she fell sideways, the stairs rushing up to meet her. Luckily, she put her hands out in time to prevent any major accidents. She heard a thud, and knew whatever she had hit was now laying beside her on the cold stone steps. Hermione turned her head to the left and gasped. "Malfoy? Are you all right?"
Draco pushed himself up, and began brushing his robes off. "I'm fine, no thanks to you, Mudblood. Watch where you're walking. There are people here who do not enjoy being thrashed about and bumped into, unlike you and your other mudblood friends, and your boyfriends."
"If you would kindly step off your golden pedestal for a moment and help me up, it would be appreciated, though I can't figure out why I would ever ask for your help."
"I should think the answer was obvious: I'm irresistible. Every girl at Hogwarts is in love with me."
"Then I must be a duck, because your charms don't seem to have any effect on me."
The famous Malfoy smirk appeared on his face. "We'll see about that." He offered her his hand. Cautiously she took it, expecting anything and everything to happen to her. The moment she was standing, Draco retracted his hand. "Happy?"
"Not really, but that's all right. Thank you."
"Don't mention it. And I mean don't mention it. At all. If word got around that I helped someone up, a mudblood for that matter, I'd lose everything."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "And we wouldn't want that, of course."
"No, you wouldn't."
Wordlessly, they walked to their dormitory, and into their separate rooms. Both fell asleep instantly, the odd occurrence in the stairway lost on their unconscious minds.
A/N: Yes, that was indeed another rather pointless chapter. But now you know who the new teachers are, so it can't have been all THAT pointless.
Yay! I actually succeeded in writing a long chapter! All hail me!
Small memo: The line thingy in the witches' bit was from Macbeth. Can't remember its exact location, but it's before one of the meetings with Macbeth.
Let me know what you think. Suggestions are always appreciated.
Toodles.
~§ Aindel Druida §~