Xenith
"To live is like love, all reason is against it, and all healthy instinct for it."
~~~Samuel Butler
Chapter Seventeen
A/N: The classes I now envision happen to consist of all four houses in one class period. I figured this out when I constructed a course schedule for all of our main characters and realised that there are not enough teachers in the school to have it any other way. Anyway, I seem to be rambling, all I'm saying is that they are all together. ENJOY!!!
i`You must learn to use it Harry, or it will be of no use to you.'
`How am I supposed to learn?'
`You've had Defense Against the Dark Arts I presume?'
`Yes.'
`And your Professor?'
`She used to be my old neighbour, lots of cats.'
`She will teach you if you will learn.'
`I'll learn.'/i
The words still rang in Harry's ears as he made his way exhausted and sweaty, through the dark corridors to his Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Quidditch practice. Katie just HAD to have practice _tonight_. His first night of training with the Professor and he was almost too tired to even carry the sword.
Harry had had to dash from the Quidditch Pitch to Gryffindor common room to gather the sword and hide it beneath his invisibility cloak, change, and make his way out of the common room without attracting any attention. All in seven and a half minutes.
"You're late Mr Potter." Professor Figg said quietly from the shadowy alcove beside her classroom.
"Thirty seconds?" He panted.
"Forty-two." Harry waved her off as he crossed into her room and slumped into his usual back row seat.
"Punctuality, Harry, your first lesson."
"I thought I was here to learn how to fight."
"Among other things."
"What things?" He set the sword on the seat beside him and slouched forward on his knees, scrutinising his former elderly neighbour.
She was so different now, or seemed to be at least. She stood strong and proud, her head held high, her hands hiding deep within her robes.
"You'll learn in time young one." He nodded. "Quidditch practice tonight Harry?"
"Yeah." He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and leant back in his chair, effectively cracking his back and stretching his sore limbs.
"Well, best be to it then." She cleared the desks with a wave of her wand and motioned Harry into the center of the room, sheathed sword in hand.
Professor Figg shed her heavy, confining, outer robes to reveal pale trousers, a loose over-shirt, and a sword strapped to her back. "This," she turned her back to Harry, "Is the best and most efficient way to carry your weapon." She turned back to him. "Turn 'round Harry, and hold your sword out to your side." He did as he was told. Figg twitched her wand at the sword and it jumped from his hand, straps buckling about his chest and abdomen, twining and tightening as the weapon sunk into place between his shoulder blades. "Heavy?"
"Just a bit."
"You'll get used to it. Trust me, soon it will be like a third arm, you'll feel lost without it." He nodded. "Now, keep your arms still at your sides, look straight ahead, and don't fidget." He complied. "This is a focus exercise, Harry. If you're doing it right I should not be able to break your concentration." Harry began to feel uncomfortable as she commenced circling him, stopping square in front of him and muttering in the creaky old voice she used to use when she watched him in the summers. "Harry Potter, you scurvy little boy," She rasped, immediately shattering his focus with a snort of laughter. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," she laughed with him in her hoarse tongue. "Now that just won't do Harry Potter." She broke away from the voice. "Again."
He focused again. She broke it.
Again. Broken.
Again. Broken.
Harry finally managed to focus through the Professor's inane rambling, granted it was two hours later, but still . . . "Good job Harry." She crowed. "Take a minute and we can move onto some sword training."
Harry slumped into one of the desks. "That's so bloody hard . . ." He groaned, pulling off his glasses and rubbing his head.
"It'll get easier."
It didn't. EVERYthing got harder.
"There you are Harry!" Ron jumped from his seat with Hermione where they were sitting finishing their homework (well, Hermione as doing her work, Ron was trying to distract her with his less than witty charm while he copied hers). "We were going to look for you if you hadn't showed up by midnight."
"What took so long?" Ron pulled Hermione to her feet and managed to slip her completed paper into his pocket without her noticing. "The team was back ages ago."
"I know, and I promise to tell you two everything", Harry replied, pulling off his white sweat drenched tee-shirt even as he made his way over to the stairs to the boys' dormitories. The only other two students occupying the common burst into a furious bout of giggles at the sight of a half-naked Harry Potter. Harry blushed furiously and dashed up the stairwell.
"Lavender!" Parvati squealed, slapping her friend on the arm.
"Don't tell me you wouldn't?!" She squealed back, covering her mouth with her hands. Parvati giggled like mad and both headed up to the girls' dormitories, a squeal echoing down at them.
"That's pathetic." Hermione grumbled, turning back to Ron. But the red-haired boy was gone. With her homework. "Augh, prat." She groaned, gathering up her and Ron's books and making her way to her room and Parvati and Lavender.
"You can't tell me that didn't make you swoon Hermione!" Lavender said the moment she entered the 5th year girls dormitory.
"It didn't make me swoon." She stacked her's and Ron's books carefully on a shelf beneath her bed-side table and pulled her night shirt from her trunk. A giant, knee-length, violently orange, _Chudley Cannons _ tee-shirt Ron had given her for her birthday ("They'll make a come back, Hermione. You just wait and see."). She grinned at the thought.
"Ohhh, that's right," Parvati nudged Lavender in the side and with a collective plunk! Both sank onto the end of Hermione's bed. "You fancy Ron."
"I do not." She slipped the shirt over her head at that instant, thankfully covering her blush.
"Well, he fancies you at least." Lavender continued. "We saw him help you up tonight."
"Yes, and then he stole my History of Magic assignment."
"Ahhh, History of Magic." Parvati smirked, untold secrets dancing like wildfire across both of their faces.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"He needs your work because he hasn't been paying attention in class."
"He never pays attention, he sleeps." She stated matter-of-factly, peering down at the two girls currently occupying her bed.
"He hasn't been sleeping lately!" Lavender shrieked, bouncing with excitement.
"You know how he and Harry---" (a squeal from Lavender) "---sit behind you? Well, Harry sleeps but Ron doesn't. He sits there, for the whole hour and a half, with his chin in his hand and his eyes positively GLUED to the back of you head."
"It's sooo CUTE!"
"He does NOT." Hermione protested, a flush creeping slowly into her cheeks. "Get up . . . out of my bed!" She snipped, snapping her fingers at the two bubbly girls. "Out! I want to go to sleep." Lavender and Parvati scrambled off of her bed and onto their own. She twitched the scarlet hangings closed and fell back into her pillows with a sigh.
"Good night Hermione . . ." Parvati's sing-song voice floated across the room at her.
"Hope your dreams are filled with Weasley's!!!" Hermione only caught a snatch of giggling before her Silencing Charm was cast and she snuggled under her heavy scarlet quilt. Content with whatever dreams decided to grace her with their presence.
Lavender didn't know how right she was.
"Hey Harry?" Ron said from his wardrobe, not turning to face Harry as he imerged from the loo, still dripping from the shower---only a fluffy white towel in his hand and a second wrapped tightly around his waist.
"Yeah?" He tossed the towel he'd been using to dry his messy silver and emerald hair on the floor and knelt before his trunk.
"What do you think of Hermione?" Still, he didn't turn.
"She's great." He pulled his pyjam trousers and boxer-shorts from under Gilderoy Lockhart's 'Gadding with Ghouls'. Red ink had spilled over the cover, obscuring the sparkling photograph of Lockhart on the front. //I've got to get rid of those.// He thought, remembering their abysmal Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. "I don't know what I'd do without her. Probably fail Potions." He pulled on his Snitch patterned, pale blue boxer-shorts over his muscular Slytherin-striped legs. "This damn green still won't come off." He muttered darkly, sliding into an old pair of Dudley's giant tartan pyjam bottoms. "Colin needs to get a picture of the team."
"Oh, so you like her?" Ron's voice dropped considerably.
"Who?" He balled up the two soaking towels and launched them through the open door and back into the bathroom.
"Hermione. You like her then?"
"Yeah I like her." The true meaning of Ron's words not sinking in. "She's one of my best friends. Why?" He didn't reply. "Oh!" Harry exclaimed, everything Ron had said finally sinking through his exercise warped brain. "No! Oh Ron, it's not like that---I don't fancy her or anything. She's like a sister to me. No more, I promise."
"Oh, okay then." Ron turned, relief etched in his voice.
Harry made it half-way to his bed before thinking of asking Ron what he'd meant. "Why did you want to know?"
"Well," A flush as vibrant as his hair began to creep slowly up his neck towards his ears. "I'm thinking of . . . maybe . . . possibly . . . asking her to a butterbeer this Hogsmeade weekend."
"Oh." Harry grinned to himself. "Right."
"You think she'll say yes?"
"We'll see," //Of course!// "We'll see."
---
FRIDAY of the following week
"This," Chris explained, picking her way delicately around the massive worm as she spoke, "Is a Hydro Chem, they're the most common type of riding dragons." She snapped her tongue and the dragon unfurled its wings, stretching. "The undersides of their wings and bellies have some of the strongest chameleon, or chem., properties in the world." She continued, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "When you're up in the air on one of these beauties," She held one of his wings delicately in front of her toned frame and the bottom half of her body immediately 'disappeared'. "You're invisible to the world."
"But the problem that you'll find with these worms is," Mat began only to be interrupted by Angelina.
"Why do you two keep calling them worms? They don't seem very worm-like to me."
Mat ignored her completely and Chris made none of her usual attempts to answer. "That they take off and you can't find'em." He dug into one of the pockets of the leather armour he was wearing, instead of the usual linen, and pulled out a slick pair of sunglasses. "But that's where being a wizard comes in handy. Enchantawear has just come out with these." He held up the shades for all to see. He tapped his wand on the frames and the lenses flashed red and he slid them over his eyes. These babies work in exactly the same manner as the bulky ones Chris always insists on wearing---""
"I like mine perfectly well, thank you very much!" She snapped from inside the shed that had been erected next to Hagrid's hut.
"Anyway, I just wanted to show them off, I'm not very into this whole 'Teacher/Student' thing." There were a few laughs at the comment as Chris emmerged from the shed, now clothed in her own well worn leather garments and somehow managing to carry two other bulky sets.
"I'm fine, you don't need to help Mat." She muttered, dumping the jumble of ancient leather garments on the ground at his feet.
"I wasn't planning on it." He pulled a cigarette from a rectangular pocket, which seemed specially designed for that exact purpose, and lit the end of it.
"How considerate." His only reply was three indigo smoke rings curling menacingly towards her. "I need two volunteers." She announced, rubbing her palms together eagerly. "Who wants to ride one of these beauties with Mat?" Fred took no notice of the girl's enthusiasm; his eyes glued to the hole in the grass he'd been working on for the better portion of the class. "Okay Miss Johnson, come up here and Mat will help you put on your suit." Angelina practically skipped up to him. "And one more to ride with me." No one raised their hands. "Nobody?"
"I'll do it," Fred said quietly, keeping his head down.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," He looked up to her; she was surprisingly pale and looked almost scared of him. "I can do it." He stepped forward, his hands in his pockets.
"Alright." She said quietly, some of the color coming back into her cheeks. "Eddie! Come here, you have to teach the class while we're in the air!" The boy ran over and she turned her attention back to the red-head before her. "Here," she handed him a pair of loose, worn, leather trousers. "Put them on."
"Why are you mad at me?" He demanded, pulling on the leather over his existing trousers.
"Fred, we can't…"she offered half-heartedly, removing his billowing black school robes.
"Can't what?"
"Can't be having this conversation." He tugged a brown leather jacket over his shoulders and she began tying up the front for him.
"Chris---" He plead.
"You have a girlfriend Fred." She said reasonably her arms threading around his waist as she secured one of the many straps to his trousers.
"Chris---"
"I'm a professor here." She pushed a pair of goggles into his hands.
"You're sixteen!"
"That doesn't matter." She slid a glove onto his left hand, strapping it onto the cuff of the jacket.
"I'm seventeen, nearly eighteen!"
"I know, Fred, but we can't." She muttered, her fingers brushing over his hand before she brought the right glove over his hand and latched it to the cuff.
"Are you attracted to me?" He asked no trace of a smile on the usually giddy face.
"What?" She exclaimed, astonishment etched across her face, her hand stopping half-way to her back pocket.
"You heard me Chris."
"I'm not answering that." She pulled two black cigarettes from her bum pocket, sticking both in her mouth.
"Are you?" He demanded.
"Rack off, here." She handed him a lit cigarette, taking a long drag off her own.
"Why?" The black cigarette sufficiently distracting him, for the moment at least.
"It coats your lungs against the smoke and such, remember?"
"Oh yeah." He inhaled the smoke hesitantly at first, but then with more confidence and vigor when he found it didn't make him cough. He could feel the magic working its way into his lungs. The organ tissue eagerly accepting the sealant.
"Do you feel all tingly inside?"
"Yes." He hiccoughed. Chris laughed, Fred scowled.
"Don't . . ." She said quietly, touching his face for a moment before realising what she was doing. "Are you two ready, Chris? Weasley?" Mat interrupted, seeing, and having heard, the exchange.
"Yes Mat." She plucked the cigarette from the twin's mouth and dropped it on the ground with her own, stepping on it with her leather clad foot. "Step on the crook of his wing. Yes there, where the wing meets the body." Fred placed his foot and swung his left leg over the dragon and into the harness and watched as Chris darted around the beast securing him to the double saddle and then swinging herself in front of him. "See those long straps on each side of you?"
"Yes."
"Hook them 'round my waist." He slid his arms around her torso, taking great care to run his hands along her sides, as he secured the final strap. He rested his gloved hands on her thighs as she ran her hands along her dragon's wide neck.
"Stop it Fred." She muttered. "You can't, WE can't."
"I'm just hanging on." She didn't reply and he left his hands.
"Helmets!" Eddie threw two green-brown helmets to Chris. She caught them effortlessly and shoved one onto her head.
"Here." She thrust the second into his lap, forcing him to move his hands. He put on the helmet, strapped it 'round his neck, and wrapped his arms around her stomach.
She tensed under his touch, he held her all the tighter.
"We're taking off." She announced, her voice only the slightest bit shaky. "Are you ready?"
"Always." Fred watched in awe as her leathered hands slid beneath two scales the size of dinner plates and she closed her eyes, calling up a low, powerful thrumming noise from deep within her centre. The thrumming purred out of her pursed lips, reaching an almost unbearable crescendo when it stopped. The dragon was in the air, moving higher and higher, soaring over the lake.
"You never answered me." Fred finally said when he'd gotten over the initial shock of dragon riding.
"Hmmm?" She whispered evasively.
"Are you attracted to me Chris? I need to know." She landed the dragon on a small flat portion of the castle's rooftop. The worm began to fold his wings down but a sharp whistle from Chris caused the wings to stay erect. Privacy. "Answer me Chris."
"Yes Fred! Is that what you want?" She demanded detaching herself from the red-head and turning about in the saddle.
"Then why can't we do this? Damn-it Chris, I just don't get it."
"I'm a Professor, Fred. It's not allowed."
"I'm almost two years older than you!"
"You have a girlfriend!"
"That can change!"
"Do you love her?"
Fred didn't even have to think about it. "No."
"Do you know what it is you want? What you'd be getting into if we started something?"
"Yes."
"You're willing to risk expulsion?" A nod. "Even a professional Quidditch contract?"
"Completely."
---
"The Patronus," Professor Figg announced to her fifth year Defense class. "Is a very complex and _distinctive_ spell. It is highly advanced magic and well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. Can anyone tell me what the word 'Patronus' means?" Hermione's hand shot into the air. "Yes Hermione?"
"Patronus: Latin for protector. Derived from the same root as patro, to accomplish, and pater, father. It is something of an anti-dementor, a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the dementor. If your charm is one-hundred percent successful the Patronus will chase the dementor away." Sounding, as usual, like she had swallowed the text book.
"Very good, do you have anything else you would like to add?" Hermione grinned.
"The Patronus is a positive force, a projection of the very things dementors feed upon---ie, hope happiness and the desire to survive. But it can't feel despair, as real humans can, so the dementors have no effect upon them."
"What is the spell used to conjure a Patronus?"
"Expecto Patronum." Malfoy muttered from across the room before Hermione had a chance to raise her hand.
"Exactly Mr Malfoy. Would you like to demonstrate for us?" She crossed her arms over her chest and perched on the edge of her desk at the side of the room.
"No." He replied, not looking up from his writing
"It's too bad you feel that way. To the front please." Draco dropped his quill and sauntered to the front of the class, crossing his arms behind his back and waiting for further instruction. "Let's make this interesting, shall we?" No-one replied, all having had too much experience with 'interesting' Defense classes. "I have it on good authority that you can conjure a pretty fair Patronus Potter. To the front." She nodded for him to stand beside Malfoy. "Who else would like to give it a try? Fifty points to the house that can construct the best one." Still no volunteers. "I shall choose then. Miss Brocklehurst?" The pretty, brown-haired Ravenclaw shook her head furiously, her tight chocolate curls shaking like mad. "You'll be okay, it's not very hard." Ron was surprised to see both Harry and Ferret-boy roll their eyes skyward as the tiny fifteen year-old scurried towards the two, seemingly towering, boys. "And . . . how about you, Mr Finch-Fletchley?" Justin's already large, brown sleepy eyes went the size of saucers in his white face as the teacher motioned for him to join the three students at the front.
Ron honestly didn't blame those two for not wanting to go up against the two enemies. It was common knowledge that Harry and Malfoy both had the power and magical _prowess_ to be the top of the school if it wasn't for their deep enmity for one another and the rules encompassing their school. They didn't stand a chance.
"You produce a Patronus with an incantation which will only work if you are concentrating with all of your being on a solitary, very happy memory. I'd like you each to think of one now. And class, you need to be doing this too, each of you will need to put forth your best effort to produce a Patronus eventually." The tiny Ravenclaw to Harry's left caught her bottom lip between her teeth and clamped her eyes shut, thinking with all her might. Justin's eyes darted from left to right, trying desperately to think of the happiest moment in his life. Harry did nothing, finding that, in the past, he had always produced the best Patronus' on the spur of the moment.
Malfoy scoffed at the two and muttered under his breath to Harry: "What, not panicking Potter? This is different." Harry tried his best to ignore the blonde's snide comments. "Since when can you produce a Patronus?" He ignored him, implementing Figg's focus exercise to block out the infuriating Slytherin. He could have sworn he saw her smile at him.
"Does everyone have something?" A vague smattering of nods and quiet yes'. "And you four?" Nods. "Good. You first Mr Finch-Fletchley, you first. Do you remember the spell?" The boy didn't reply, he was mouthing the spell over and over again to himself. "You may begin whenever you're ready Justin."
Justin closed his eyes, took a deep breath and held his wand out in front of him. His eyes snapped open. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" He shouted, a thin slip of silvery mist escaped the end of his wand forming something that vaguely resembled the Whomping Willow.
"Very good Justin!" Professor Figg clapped for the Hufflepuff. "Excellent first try. You may take your seat while we see how the others fair." Justin nearly ran back to his seat. "Mandy, you next."
"Expec-Expecto Patro-Patronum." She stammered out, her wand shaking in her hand. Surprisingly enough though, a giant silver bird soared out of her wand tip and circled the room once before coming back to it's maker and evaporating. "Wow . . ."
"Spectacular! Positively smashing Mandy! And you were worried because . . . ?" Professor Figg applauded. The girl blushed furiously as she made her way back to her seat. "Let's see if you boys can do better than that. Mr Malfoy?"
"Guess she wants to save the best for last." Harry couldn't resist muttering at the lanky blonde.
"You wish." Malfoy hissed back, his eyes glued to the air before him. He didn't wait for Figg's permission to cast his spell. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" He bellowed, thrusting his wand out before him as a cascade of white light shot from the end of his wand, quickly condensing into a massive dragon---its snout just grazing the high ceiling. When it found it couldn't unfurl his wings---let alone move---it let out a terrible yowl of frustration that thundered each student's insides, yet oddly didn't make a sound. Half a scream escaped its throat before it dissipated completely. "Beat that Potter." Malfoy muttered, knocking shoulders with Harry as he made his way back to his seat.
"Incredible!" Professor Figg glowed. "I believe we have a new first place."
"How positively smashing." Malfoy scowled, plucking his quill back up and continuing with whatever it was he was writing.
"Potter, you next."
Harry stepped forward---catching a glimpse of Malfoy quietly setting down his quill before his eyes snapped shut.
---
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((¸¸.·´ ..·´ -:¦:- tbc -:¦:-
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A/N2: I borrowed all of my Patronus information from the almighty J.K. Rowling.
And a VERY special thanks to:
Kirjava: thanks for all the reviews, and when I say mage I'm referring to a VERY
powerful wizard/ witch, one who doesn't need a wand for their magic.
And we'll see if anyone else gets to be one!!!
And thanks to Nuts, LizzieDiagon, enoimreH, Ivvic, The Juke of Earl and anyone else I may have forgotten! Your reviews mean SOOOOOOOOO much to me!!!
"To live is like love, all reason is against it, and all healthy instinct for it."
~~~Samuel Butler
Chapter Seventeen
A/N: The classes I now envision happen to consist of all four houses in one class period. I figured this out when I constructed a course schedule for all of our main characters and realised that there are not enough teachers in the school to have it any other way. Anyway, I seem to be rambling, all I'm saying is that they are all together. ENJOY!!!
i`You must learn to use it Harry, or it will be of no use to you.'
`How am I supposed to learn?'
`You've had Defense Against the Dark Arts I presume?'
`Yes.'
`And your Professor?'
`She used to be my old neighbour, lots of cats.'
`She will teach you if you will learn.'
`I'll learn.'/i
The words still rang in Harry's ears as he made his way exhausted and sweaty, through the dark corridors to his Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
Quidditch practice. Katie just HAD to have practice _tonight_. His first night of training with the Professor and he was almost too tired to even carry the sword.
Harry had had to dash from the Quidditch Pitch to Gryffindor common room to gather the sword and hide it beneath his invisibility cloak, change, and make his way out of the common room without attracting any attention. All in seven and a half minutes.
"You're late Mr Potter." Professor Figg said quietly from the shadowy alcove beside her classroom.
"Thirty seconds?" He panted.
"Forty-two." Harry waved her off as he crossed into her room and slumped into his usual back row seat.
"Punctuality, Harry, your first lesson."
"I thought I was here to learn how to fight."
"Among other things."
"What things?" He set the sword on the seat beside him and slouched forward on his knees, scrutinising his former elderly neighbour.
She was so different now, or seemed to be at least. She stood strong and proud, her head held high, her hands hiding deep within her robes.
"You'll learn in time young one." He nodded. "Quidditch practice tonight Harry?"
"Yeah." He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and leant back in his chair, effectively cracking his back and stretching his sore limbs.
"Well, best be to it then." She cleared the desks with a wave of her wand and motioned Harry into the center of the room, sheathed sword in hand.
Professor Figg shed her heavy, confining, outer robes to reveal pale trousers, a loose over-shirt, and a sword strapped to her back. "This," she turned her back to Harry, "Is the best and most efficient way to carry your weapon." She turned back to him. "Turn 'round Harry, and hold your sword out to your side." He did as he was told. Figg twitched her wand at the sword and it jumped from his hand, straps buckling about his chest and abdomen, twining and tightening as the weapon sunk into place between his shoulder blades. "Heavy?"
"Just a bit."
"You'll get used to it. Trust me, soon it will be like a third arm, you'll feel lost without it." He nodded. "Now, keep your arms still at your sides, look straight ahead, and don't fidget." He complied. "This is a focus exercise, Harry. If you're doing it right I should not be able to break your concentration." Harry began to feel uncomfortable as she commenced circling him, stopping square in front of him and muttering in the creaky old voice she used to use when she watched him in the summers. "Harry Potter, you scurvy little boy," She rasped, immediately shattering his focus with a snort of laughter. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," she laughed with him in her hoarse tongue. "Now that just won't do Harry Potter." She broke away from the voice. "Again."
He focused again. She broke it.
Again. Broken.
Again. Broken.
Harry finally managed to focus through the Professor's inane rambling, granted it was two hours later, but still . . . "Good job Harry." She crowed. "Take a minute and we can move onto some sword training."
Harry slumped into one of the desks. "That's so bloody hard . . ." He groaned, pulling off his glasses and rubbing his head.
"It'll get easier."
It didn't. EVERYthing got harder.
"There you are Harry!" Ron jumped from his seat with Hermione where they were sitting finishing their homework (well, Hermione as doing her work, Ron was trying to distract her with his less than witty charm while he copied hers). "We were going to look for you if you hadn't showed up by midnight."
"What took so long?" Ron pulled Hermione to her feet and managed to slip her completed paper into his pocket without her noticing. "The team was back ages ago."
"I know, and I promise to tell you two everything", Harry replied, pulling off his white sweat drenched tee-shirt even as he made his way over to the stairs to the boys' dormitories. The only other two students occupying the common burst into a furious bout of giggles at the sight of a half-naked Harry Potter. Harry blushed furiously and dashed up the stairwell.
"Lavender!" Parvati squealed, slapping her friend on the arm.
"Don't tell me you wouldn't?!" She squealed back, covering her mouth with her hands. Parvati giggled like mad and both headed up to the girls' dormitories, a squeal echoing down at them.
"That's pathetic." Hermione grumbled, turning back to Ron. But the red-haired boy was gone. With her homework. "Augh, prat." She groaned, gathering up her and Ron's books and making her way to her room and Parvati and Lavender.
"You can't tell me that didn't make you swoon Hermione!" Lavender said the moment she entered the 5th year girls dormitory.
"It didn't make me swoon." She stacked her's and Ron's books carefully on a shelf beneath her bed-side table and pulled her night shirt from her trunk. A giant, knee-length, violently orange, _Chudley Cannons _ tee-shirt Ron had given her for her birthday ("They'll make a come back, Hermione. You just wait and see."). She grinned at the thought.
"Ohhh, that's right," Parvati nudged Lavender in the side and with a collective plunk! Both sank onto the end of Hermione's bed. "You fancy Ron."
"I do not." She slipped the shirt over her head at that instant, thankfully covering her blush.
"Well, he fancies you at least." Lavender continued. "We saw him help you up tonight."
"Yes, and then he stole my History of Magic assignment."
"Ahhh, History of Magic." Parvati smirked, untold secrets dancing like wildfire across both of their faces.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"He needs your work because he hasn't been paying attention in class."
"He never pays attention, he sleeps." She stated matter-of-factly, peering down at the two girls currently occupying her bed.
"He hasn't been sleeping lately!" Lavender shrieked, bouncing with excitement.
"You know how he and Harry---" (a squeal from Lavender) "---sit behind you? Well, Harry sleeps but Ron doesn't. He sits there, for the whole hour and a half, with his chin in his hand and his eyes positively GLUED to the back of you head."
"It's sooo CUTE!"
"He does NOT." Hermione protested, a flush creeping slowly into her cheeks. "Get up . . . out of my bed!" She snipped, snapping her fingers at the two bubbly girls. "Out! I want to go to sleep." Lavender and Parvati scrambled off of her bed and onto their own. She twitched the scarlet hangings closed and fell back into her pillows with a sigh.
"Good night Hermione . . ." Parvati's sing-song voice floated across the room at her.
"Hope your dreams are filled with Weasley's!!!" Hermione only caught a snatch of giggling before her Silencing Charm was cast and she snuggled under her heavy scarlet quilt. Content with whatever dreams decided to grace her with their presence.
Lavender didn't know how right she was.
"Hey Harry?" Ron said from his wardrobe, not turning to face Harry as he imerged from the loo, still dripping from the shower---only a fluffy white towel in his hand and a second wrapped tightly around his waist.
"Yeah?" He tossed the towel he'd been using to dry his messy silver and emerald hair on the floor and knelt before his trunk.
"What do you think of Hermione?" Still, he didn't turn.
"She's great." He pulled his pyjam trousers and boxer-shorts from under Gilderoy Lockhart's 'Gadding with Ghouls'. Red ink had spilled over the cover, obscuring the sparkling photograph of Lockhart on the front. //I've got to get rid of those.// He thought, remembering their abysmal Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. "I don't know what I'd do without her. Probably fail Potions." He pulled on his Snitch patterned, pale blue boxer-shorts over his muscular Slytherin-striped legs. "This damn green still won't come off." He muttered darkly, sliding into an old pair of Dudley's giant tartan pyjam bottoms. "Colin needs to get a picture of the team."
"Oh, so you like her?" Ron's voice dropped considerably.
"Who?" He balled up the two soaking towels and launched them through the open door and back into the bathroom.
"Hermione. You like her then?"
"Yeah I like her." The true meaning of Ron's words not sinking in. "She's one of my best friends. Why?" He didn't reply. "Oh!" Harry exclaimed, everything Ron had said finally sinking through his exercise warped brain. "No! Oh Ron, it's not like that---I don't fancy her or anything. She's like a sister to me. No more, I promise."
"Oh, okay then." Ron turned, relief etched in his voice.
Harry made it half-way to his bed before thinking of asking Ron what he'd meant. "Why did you want to know?"
"Well," A flush as vibrant as his hair began to creep slowly up his neck towards his ears. "I'm thinking of . . . maybe . . . possibly . . . asking her to a butterbeer this Hogsmeade weekend."
"Oh." Harry grinned to himself. "Right."
"You think she'll say yes?"
"We'll see," //Of course!// "We'll see."
---
FRIDAY of the following week
"This," Chris explained, picking her way delicately around the massive worm as she spoke, "Is a Hydro Chem, they're the most common type of riding dragons." She snapped her tongue and the dragon unfurled its wings, stretching. "The undersides of their wings and bellies have some of the strongest chameleon, or chem., properties in the world." She continued, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "When you're up in the air on one of these beauties," She held one of his wings delicately in front of her toned frame and the bottom half of her body immediately 'disappeared'. "You're invisible to the world."
"But the problem that you'll find with these worms is," Mat began only to be interrupted by Angelina.
"Why do you two keep calling them worms? They don't seem very worm-like to me."
Mat ignored her completely and Chris made none of her usual attempts to answer. "That they take off and you can't find'em." He dug into one of the pockets of the leather armour he was wearing, instead of the usual linen, and pulled out a slick pair of sunglasses. "But that's where being a wizard comes in handy. Enchantawear has just come out with these." He held up the shades for all to see. He tapped his wand on the frames and the lenses flashed red and he slid them over his eyes. These babies work in exactly the same manner as the bulky ones Chris always insists on wearing---""
"I like mine perfectly well, thank you very much!" She snapped from inside the shed that had been erected next to Hagrid's hut.
"Anyway, I just wanted to show them off, I'm not very into this whole 'Teacher/Student' thing." There were a few laughs at the comment as Chris emmerged from the shed, now clothed in her own well worn leather garments and somehow managing to carry two other bulky sets.
"I'm fine, you don't need to help Mat." She muttered, dumping the jumble of ancient leather garments on the ground at his feet.
"I wasn't planning on it." He pulled a cigarette from a rectangular pocket, which seemed specially designed for that exact purpose, and lit the end of it.
"How considerate." His only reply was three indigo smoke rings curling menacingly towards her. "I need two volunteers." She announced, rubbing her palms together eagerly. "Who wants to ride one of these beauties with Mat?" Fred took no notice of the girl's enthusiasm; his eyes glued to the hole in the grass he'd been working on for the better portion of the class. "Okay Miss Johnson, come up here and Mat will help you put on your suit." Angelina practically skipped up to him. "And one more to ride with me." No one raised their hands. "Nobody?"
"I'll do it," Fred said quietly, keeping his head down.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," He looked up to her; she was surprisingly pale and looked almost scared of him. "I can do it." He stepped forward, his hands in his pockets.
"Alright." She said quietly, some of the color coming back into her cheeks. "Eddie! Come here, you have to teach the class while we're in the air!" The boy ran over and she turned her attention back to the red-head before her. "Here," she handed him a pair of loose, worn, leather trousers. "Put them on."
"Why are you mad at me?" He demanded, pulling on the leather over his existing trousers.
"Fred, we can't…"she offered half-heartedly, removing his billowing black school robes.
"Can't what?"
"Can't be having this conversation." He tugged a brown leather jacket over his shoulders and she began tying up the front for him.
"Chris---" He plead.
"You have a girlfriend Fred." She said reasonably her arms threading around his waist as she secured one of the many straps to his trousers.
"Chris---"
"I'm a professor here." She pushed a pair of goggles into his hands.
"You're sixteen!"
"That doesn't matter." She slid a glove onto his left hand, strapping it onto the cuff of the jacket.
"I'm seventeen, nearly eighteen!"
"I know, Fred, but we can't." She muttered, her fingers brushing over his hand before she brought the right glove over his hand and latched it to the cuff.
"Are you attracted to me?" He asked no trace of a smile on the usually giddy face.
"What?" She exclaimed, astonishment etched across her face, her hand stopping half-way to her back pocket.
"You heard me Chris."
"I'm not answering that." She pulled two black cigarettes from her bum pocket, sticking both in her mouth.
"Are you?" He demanded.
"Rack off, here." She handed him a lit cigarette, taking a long drag off her own.
"Why?" The black cigarette sufficiently distracting him, for the moment at least.
"It coats your lungs against the smoke and such, remember?"
"Oh yeah." He inhaled the smoke hesitantly at first, but then with more confidence and vigor when he found it didn't make him cough. He could feel the magic working its way into his lungs. The organ tissue eagerly accepting the sealant.
"Do you feel all tingly inside?"
"Yes." He hiccoughed. Chris laughed, Fred scowled.
"Don't . . ." She said quietly, touching his face for a moment before realising what she was doing. "Are you two ready, Chris? Weasley?" Mat interrupted, seeing, and having heard, the exchange.
"Yes Mat." She plucked the cigarette from the twin's mouth and dropped it on the ground with her own, stepping on it with her leather clad foot. "Step on the crook of his wing. Yes there, where the wing meets the body." Fred placed his foot and swung his left leg over the dragon and into the harness and watched as Chris darted around the beast securing him to the double saddle and then swinging herself in front of him. "See those long straps on each side of you?"
"Yes."
"Hook them 'round my waist." He slid his arms around her torso, taking great care to run his hands along her sides, as he secured the final strap. He rested his gloved hands on her thighs as she ran her hands along her dragon's wide neck.
"Stop it Fred." She muttered. "You can't, WE can't."
"I'm just hanging on." She didn't reply and he left his hands.
"Helmets!" Eddie threw two green-brown helmets to Chris. She caught them effortlessly and shoved one onto her head.
"Here." She thrust the second into his lap, forcing him to move his hands. He put on the helmet, strapped it 'round his neck, and wrapped his arms around her stomach.
She tensed under his touch, he held her all the tighter.
"We're taking off." She announced, her voice only the slightest bit shaky. "Are you ready?"
"Always." Fred watched in awe as her leathered hands slid beneath two scales the size of dinner plates and she closed her eyes, calling up a low, powerful thrumming noise from deep within her centre. The thrumming purred out of her pursed lips, reaching an almost unbearable crescendo when it stopped. The dragon was in the air, moving higher and higher, soaring over the lake.
"You never answered me." Fred finally said when he'd gotten over the initial shock of dragon riding.
"Hmmm?" She whispered evasively.
"Are you attracted to me Chris? I need to know." She landed the dragon on a small flat portion of the castle's rooftop. The worm began to fold his wings down but a sharp whistle from Chris caused the wings to stay erect. Privacy. "Answer me Chris."
"Yes Fred! Is that what you want?" She demanded detaching herself from the red-head and turning about in the saddle.
"Then why can't we do this? Damn-it Chris, I just don't get it."
"I'm a Professor, Fred. It's not allowed."
"I'm almost two years older than you!"
"You have a girlfriend!"
"That can change!"
"Do you love her?"
Fred didn't even have to think about it. "No."
"Do you know what it is you want? What you'd be getting into if we started something?"
"Yes."
"You're willing to risk expulsion?" A nod. "Even a professional Quidditch contract?"
"Completely."
---
"The Patronus," Professor Figg announced to her fifth year Defense class. "Is a very complex and _distinctive_ spell. It is highly advanced magic and well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. Can anyone tell me what the word 'Patronus' means?" Hermione's hand shot into the air. "Yes Hermione?"
"Patronus: Latin for protector. Derived from the same root as patro, to accomplish, and pater, father. It is something of an anti-dementor, a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the dementor. If your charm is one-hundred percent successful the Patronus will chase the dementor away." Sounding, as usual, like she had swallowed the text book.
"Very good, do you have anything else you would like to add?" Hermione grinned.
"The Patronus is a positive force, a projection of the very things dementors feed upon---ie, hope happiness and the desire to survive. But it can't feel despair, as real humans can, so the dementors have no effect upon them."
"What is the spell used to conjure a Patronus?"
"Expecto Patronum." Malfoy muttered from across the room before Hermione had a chance to raise her hand.
"Exactly Mr Malfoy. Would you like to demonstrate for us?" She crossed her arms over her chest and perched on the edge of her desk at the side of the room.
"No." He replied, not looking up from his writing
"It's too bad you feel that way. To the front please." Draco dropped his quill and sauntered to the front of the class, crossing his arms behind his back and waiting for further instruction. "Let's make this interesting, shall we?" No-one replied, all having had too much experience with 'interesting' Defense classes. "I have it on good authority that you can conjure a pretty fair Patronus Potter. To the front." She nodded for him to stand beside Malfoy. "Who else would like to give it a try? Fifty points to the house that can construct the best one." Still no volunteers. "I shall choose then. Miss Brocklehurst?" The pretty, brown-haired Ravenclaw shook her head furiously, her tight chocolate curls shaking like mad. "You'll be okay, it's not very hard." Ron was surprised to see both Harry and Ferret-boy roll their eyes skyward as the tiny fifteen year-old scurried towards the two, seemingly towering, boys. "And . . . how about you, Mr Finch-Fletchley?" Justin's already large, brown sleepy eyes went the size of saucers in his white face as the teacher motioned for him to join the three students at the front.
Ron honestly didn't blame those two for not wanting to go up against the two enemies. It was common knowledge that Harry and Malfoy both had the power and magical _prowess_ to be the top of the school if it wasn't for their deep enmity for one another and the rules encompassing their school. They didn't stand a chance.
"You produce a Patronus with an incantation which will only work if you are concentrating with all of your being on a solitary, very happy memory. I'd like you each to think of one now. And class, you need to be doing this too, each of you will need to put forth your best effort to produce a Patronus eventually." The tiny Ravenclaw to Harry's left caught her bottom lip between her teeth and clamped her eyes shut, thinking with all her might. Justin's eyes darted from left to right, trying desperately to think of the happiest moment in his life. Harry did nothing, finding that, in the past, he had always produced the best Patronus' on the spur of the moment.
Malfoy scoffed at the two and muttered under his breath to Harry: "What, not panicking Potter? This is different." Harry tried his best to ignore the blonde's snide comments. "Since when can you produce a Patronus?" He ignored him, implementing Figg's focus exercise to block out the infuriating Slytherin. He could have sworn he saw her smile at him.
"Does everyone have something?" A vague smattering of nods and quiet yes'. "And you four?" Nods. "Good. You first Mr Finch-Fletchley, you first. Do you remember the spell?" The boy didn't reply, he was mouthing the spell over and over again to himself. "You may begin whenever you're ready Justin."
Justin closed his eyes, took a deep breath and held his wand out in front of him. His eyes snapped open. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" He shouted, a thin slip of silvery mist escaped the end of his wand forming something that vaguely resembled the Whomping Willow.
"Very good Justin!" Professor Figg clapped for the Hufflepuff. "Excellent first try. You may take your seat while we see how the others fair." Justin nearly ran back to his seat. "Mandy, you next."
"Expec-Expecto Patro-Patronum." She stammered out, her wand shaking in her hand. Surprisingly enough though, a giant silver bird soared out of her wand tip and circled the room once before coming back to it's maker and evaporating. "Wow . . ."
"Spectacular! Positively smashing Mandy! And you were worried because . . . ?" Professor Figg applauded. The girl blushed furiously as she made her way back to her seat. "Let's see if you boys can do better than that. Mr Malfoy?"
"Guess she wants to save the best for last." Harry couldn't resist muttering at the lanky blonde.
"You wish." Malfoy hissed back, his eyes glued to the air before him. He didn't wait for Figg's permission to cast his spell. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" He bellowed, thrusting his wand out before him as a cascade of white light shot from the end of his wand, quickly condensing into a massive dragon---its snout just grazing the high ceiling. When it found it couldn't unfurl his wings---let alone move---it let out a terrible yowl of frustration that thundered each student's insides, yet oddly didn't make a sound. Half a scream escaped its throat before it dissipated completely. "Beat that Potter." Malfoy muttered, knocking shoulders with Harry as he made his way back to his seat.
"Incredible!" Professor Figg glowed. "I believe we have a new first place."
"How positively smashing." Malfoy scowled, plucking his quill back up and continuing with whatever it was he was writing.
"Potter, you next."
Harry stepped forward---catching a glimpse of Malfoy quietly setting down his quill before his eyes snapped shut.
---
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((¸¸.·´ ..·´ -:¦:- tbc -:¦:-
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A/N2: I borrowed all of my Patronus information from the almighty J.K. Rowling.
And a VERY special thanks to:
Kirjava: thanks for all the reviews, and when I say mage I'm referring to a VERY
powerful wizard/ witch, one who doesn't need a wand for their magic.
And we'll see if anyone else gets to be one!!!
And thanks to Nuts, LizzieDiagon, enoimreH, Ivvic, The Juke of Earl and anyone else I may have forgotten! Your reviews mean SOOOOOOOOO much to me!!!