CHAPTER FIVE: Preparing For The End
"You've got to be kidding me," said Ron, practically choking on his toast as he read the piece of parchment in front of him. "Please tell me I'm not the only one who found the mistake with our timetable."
"I don't think they would print a schedule that had mistakes on it," came Neville Longbottom's response from across the table.
Ron frowned, staring deeply at his timetable, as if that would make it change.
"Cheer up," Hermione said, patting his hand and looking at her own schedule, which had considerably less free space then Ron's. "It could be worse."
"Worse?" He echoed. "What could be worse then having to be dressed and outside for Defense Against the Dark Arts at six-thirty in the morning, not just once – but twice a week. Harry, tell me what could be worse then that?"
Harry shrugged, suppressing the urge to grin. "At least it's Lupin."
"And that's going to make me feel a whole lot better when curses are being thrown every which way at me that I can't block 'cause I'm still half-asleep."
"I'm sure there's a good reason for him having class that early," Hermione said to Ron. "I'll see you two in transfiguration," she said, giving Ron a quick kiss on the cheek. "I have to get to Arithmancy."
"For a Head Girl, you sure have a lot to learn about picking courses. You should have picked a sensible class like Divination."
Getting to her feet, she let out a snort. "I can't believe you two are still taking that rubbish."
"It's my best subject, I'll have you know," said Ron proudly. "What other class can you make everything up and get a hundred percent for it?"
"He's got you there, Hermione," said Harry.
She just shook her head. "I'll see you two later."
"I was thinking of holding the first Quidditch practice on Saturday morning," Harry said when she was gone.
He was talking to Ron and anyone else still at the table that was on the Gryffindor team.
"Makes sense," said Ron, biting into his second piece of toast.
"I heard Slytherin's starting practices this Thursday," spoke up Dean Thomas, who was the team's keeper.
Harry looked over at the Slytherin table where Malfoy's smirking face could be seen as always. But he was too engrossed in a conversation with Pansy Parkinson to pay any attention to Harry.
Turning away, Harry realized they should probably get going as well. It was a long walk up to the north tower where Divination was. "Let's go," Harry said to Ron. "We still need to stop by Gryffindor Tower to get our stuff."
For the first time since third year Harry actually found himself wishing the rest of his classes would hurry up and finish so he could get to Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Remus Lupin stood in front of his second seventh year class of the day, each student giving him their rapt attention, waiting for him to start the lesson. As they had shuffled in to take their seats, he received congratulatory comments from many of them. He had smiled at each one in turn, not offering much more then a pleasant thank-you. He couldn't bring himself to say more, knowing in a few minutes he would be the one to ruin the thrill and excitement that came with being Hogwarts soon-to-be graduating class. He could have made up some lie about why Defense Against the Dark Arts was four times a week instead of the usual two, but they were old enough now that he felt they deserved to know the truth. As it was, the chances of them having to engage in battle and fight for their lives before the school year's end were relatively high, and that seemed reason enough to tell them. He had discussed his reasons with Dumblebore, who had whole-heartedly agreed. That made Remus all the more sure of what he had to say to begin the term.
"I want to thank all of you for making me feel welcome again," he started off. "I've spent more time away from here then I would have liked."
He thought about going into details about his being a werewolf, but that news had leaked out a long time ago, and he hoped that if anyone had a problem with it, they would come to him.
"I hate having to start off the term this way," he said, looking at the class, "but what I'm about to say will play a vital role in how you do in this class and all of your other lessons,"
If it were possible, they seemed to be listening even harder to him now.
"Before the end of this school year, the Dark Lord, Lord Voldermort, will very likely attack Hogwarts,"
It was the exact reaction he had anticipated. There weren't so many hushed whispering going on, as there were loud murmurings and gasps being heard across the classroom. Many looked at him with frightened eyes, some even in disbelief. He noticed Harry was the only one calm – pale – but calm. He had been expecting that reaction from him.
He waited until the noise had died down enough before speaking again. "I don't say this to frighten you. I tell you this because it is your right to know, even when certain individuals – who will remain nameless – thought you should be kept in the dark. I will never do that do you. Being naïve doesn't make you immune to what's going on around you.
"You must have noticed by now the extra Dark Arts classes on your timetable. This is to prepare you for when the time comes to defend yourselves. On Tuesday's and Thursday's we will meet in this classroom and do theory. On Monday's and Wednesday's we will meet out on the main grounds for the practical part of the lesson. We will spend the first few classes brushing up on the basics of throwing hexes and blocking them, and then build up from the curses you should have learned last year. Starting next week until the end of term, Monday's classes will consist of hand-to-hand combat. Each of you will learn to fight with something other then your wand. You might think it silly because you've probably never seen a witch or wizard do battle with anything besides their wand. But only have one means of defense to rely upon makes a person weak. Your wand has become your crutch over the years, and I will do my best to get rid of that handicap. You will learn how to handle swords, staffs, as well as countless other weapons, to ensure that you will never be caught unprepared in a situation that may require you to defend yourself."
There was none of the loud discussions that had been going on before. No one moved. Every single student was sitting wide eyed, with their eyes trained on their professor who was telling them they would be fighting for their lives sometime before graduation. Even the ones who had looked skeptical earlier were showing signs that they were as terrified as the rest.
"I have to ask that none of you say anything to anyone below seventh year about what I've just told you. The Headmaster will be holding an assembly for each grade tomorrow to explain personally what is happening.
"I'm sorry that this burden has been dropped on you," he said, letting his shoulders sag slightly. "I know what this final year is supposed to be like. The workload is grueling, yes, but there are supposed to be more important things then that. Your friends, for starters, and making this year count because it's your last one. But there's no reason why any of you can't still have that. You don't give up on life just because something bad might happen. It is perfectly understandable if any of you wish to withdraw from Hogwarts now and continue your studies from home – but that does not mean you'll be any safer there. At least if you're here you'll learn to defend yourself and maybe make a difference in the final battle. But it is your choice to make. I hope you choose wisely. That's all for today's lesson."
For once, there was deathly silence as the students filed out of Remus Lupin's class. There were no more "congratulations, Professor" or "it's good to have you back, Professor." Most had their heads hung low and no one looked at Remus before they left the classroom.
Looking at them now, Remus almost wished he could take back what he had said. They had been so bright and full of life when they had first walked in, and now they looked defeated, like someone about to face death. But knowing death might come for them was the first step towards defeating it. He planned on giving them that fighting chance.
The atmosphere was grim as the seventh years trudged down the hall for Potions, but this time it had nothing to do with Snape and the criticism he would throw at them just because they did not belong to his House. Lupin had just confirmed what Harry had feared all along. He was wondering how many would take up his offer and drop out when a strong arm shoved him to the side, almost sending him flying into a suit of armor. Harry looked up in great surprise to see it was Ron who had done it.
"How could you not tell us?" He demanded, his nostrils flaring. "You knew all summer, didn't you? And you didn't say one bloody word about You-Know-Who attacking Hogwarts!"
"Ron, I didn't know for sure," Harry said, keeping his voice calm.
"But you didn't think you should inform us? You thought you'd be the lone hero again and deal with it yourself,"
Harry was finding it hard not to lose his temper. "That's not true and you know it,"
"I'm sick of this bullshit, Harry," Ron swore. "You keep us in the dark when it's as much our right to know as it is yours. You don't think we should know that the people we care about could be in danger? Would you even have said anything if Lupin hadn't?"
It was more hurt than anger that Ron was expressing. Harry had no answer for him, though. If he was honest with himself, he never had any intention of telling Ron unless it became absolutely necessary.
"Thanks for trying to protect me," Ron stated coldly, before walking away, talking the stairs down two at a time.
"Let him go," Hermione's voice said before he could take off after him. "He needs some time to cool off,"
He hadn't even noticed she had been there watching the whole thing unfold.
He caught the accusing look in her eyes. It was the same one that had been present in Ron's. "You agree with him,"
"It would have been nice to know," she said, carefully avoiding answering Harry outright. "I know you thought you were doing the right thing, but you shouldn't have kept from us something that will undoubtedly affect every one of us."
He couldn't tell if she was angry or not, but she obviously wasn't okay with being kept in the dark. She took the stairs down after Ron without waiting for him.
If it hadn't been the first day of classes Harry would have skipped Potions, not caring about the nasty punishment Snape would surely inflict on him afterwards.
Why was it every time when he thought he was doing the right thing, it still turned out to be wrong somehow in the end?
Ron still wasn't talking to him that night. The three of them were sitting around a table, doing their homework, and each time Harry would ask Ron to pass him a book or a piece of parchment, Ron would give it to him but refused to make eye contact as he did so. After an hour of getting the silent treatment, he announced he was going to the library.
Ron didn't even acknowledge he had spoken. At least Hermione gave him a sympathetic nod as he gathered up his books into his school bag.
He left Gryffindor Tower fully intending to go to the library, only he ended up running into an old friend along the way.
"You look like you've had a rough day," said Cho, seeing his downcast expression.
"I guess I kind've deserved it," he said with a shrug.
"I'm on my way back to my room if you want to talk about it," she said.
He didn't think that was such a good idea. Even though Cho wasn't a real teacher he didn't think it would look good if someone saw him entering her room.
Interpreting his hesitation, she said, "Harry, there's nothing wrong with you coming to my room so we can talk."
He still wasn't fully convinced, but he went with her anyways.
She didn't try and make conversation with him, which made him feel a little more at ease. He wouldn't have been able to make small talk at that moment if he tried.
They came to a statue of a fierce-looking goblin, and Cho said, "Gillyweed,"
The angry looking goblin promptly slid aside, revealing a doorway for them to enter.
The inside looked like one of those spacious hotel rooms Harry had seen on television. There was a fireplace in the living area and then one long hallway branched off in two different directions, presumably one for the bedroom area and the other for the kitchen.
"Nice accommodations, huh?" She said, seeing his expression.
"Now I can see why you'd want to be a teacher," he remarked.
He took a seat in the chair by the fire while Cho curled up on the sofa.
They sat in silence for about ten minutes, just staring at the flames in the fireplace, when Harry finally said, "I thought you invited me here so we could talk,"
"I did, but I think you have a lot more on your mind then I do."
So he told her about Lupin's class and then Ron's reaction afterwards. She didn't seem too surprised, which meant she must have already known. She confirmed it when she spoke next.
"I knew before I took the job what might happen, but I gave Dumbledore my word to keep quiet about it. He didn't want rumours surfacing before school even started."
"Do you think I should have told them? Ron and Hermione, I mean."
"Harry, you made your choice based on the fact that you thought you were doing the right thing at the time."
"It obviously wasn't the right one."
"Maybe you should have trusted them to handle it. You three have been through so much together that it's like a slap in the face that you kept something this huge from them."
He hadn't thought about it that way. He thought he had been keeping them from worrying unnecessarily. He hadn't wanted to ruin their summer. He could stand being miserable – he had lived long enough with the feeling – but he would hate having to watch his friends suffer the same thing.
"Nobody's perfect, Harry,"
"Sometimes, I think – "
"That you should be perfect?" She cut in, raising an eyebrow at him. "If you think like that you're only setting yourself up to fail every time. No one can live with that kind of pressure on themselves."
They stopped talking about mistakes and Voldermort a few minutes later. Their topic of conversation moved to what they had done over the summer and Harry learned that Cho had taken an apprenticeship at Hogwarts so she could teach at a wizarding school down in Australia the following year. That was where she was heading when March rolled around. She told him they had fantastic Quidditch leagues down there, and that maybe she could join one of the minor league teams. Teaching was her fall back plan if she wasn't good enough to make it to the professionals.
Harry privately envied her. She already had a good portion of her life figured out. He had never really given much thought to life after Hogwarts. There had always been something more pressing to focus on. And here he was in his seventh year, still with no clue as to what he would do when he got out into the wizarding world. Maybe a better way to phrase it would be what would he do if he lived to see graduation?