*Chapter VI: Dark Arts History
Slumping inside of the hospital wing, Harry cringed as Madame Pomfrey dripped a stinging potion across his wounds.
"You should be just fine," she said in a sweet voice. "Now, hurry off to bed. Classes start tomorrow."
Harry jumped off and ran over to Ron who stood in the doorway.
"And you, Mister Weasley! I better not be seeing any more of you!" Madame Pomfrey yelled as she scooted the boys away.
They laughed to each other and hurried to the Gryffindor Tower. As they ran, Harry explained about the dragons he saw and how he raced Draco.
"I know about the baby dragon," Ron said. Harry gave a mystified look back. "Hagrid named him Willy."
"Oh, that was that thing Hagrid had wrapped up in the forest. I hope he gets to keep him," said Harry, and then, he continued about how he almost lost the race to Malfoy but his broom started to act up.
"That thing is nothing but trouble. I think you should just get rid of it."
"I guess you're right, Ron."
"Of course I am, mate. Now, if I were you, I'd give it to Dumbledore. He could then give it to the Ministry of Magic, and you'd never have to worry about it again."
Harry nodded as they approached the paintings guarding the Gryffindor common room.
"Password, password, password?" the three little pigs asked at the same time.
"Red Riding Witch," Harry said, and the door opened. "What do you think I should do with Malicia for tonight?"
"Give it to Hermione. She could probably use some spell to shut it up permanently. Too bad I couldn't use that on her." Ron chuckled to himself as he headed off to bed. Harry instead went to the girls' side and shouted to Hermione.
"Oh, you're here, Harry! Ron was looking for you!" she shouted back.
"Yes, I know. I'll explain what happened to me tomorrow during breakfast. Could you, perhaps, look over Malicia for tonight?"
Hermione yelled back, "Of course. Wait, why? What did she do?"
"Nothing. Well, something. Don't ask now. Please just take her away from me? Just this night, I promise you!"
"Okay, leave it at the bottom of the staircase. I'll get it in a second."
Harry smiled and chucked the broomstick to the ground. He then ran off to the boys' side and up the stairs to his comfy bed. Sleep at last.
***
"That's simply awful," Hermione said, extending the vowels in her speech. She chugged down some chocolate malt and began cutting into her green roots covered in sugary syrup.
"The worst of it, I think, is that I won't have anything to use during games," said Harry as he reached his elbow across Ron's plate, smearing a ketchup-like substance onto his robe's sleeves.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Please, Harry. If you think that's the worst about having a Driveller, you're dead wrong. I'm glad you're getting rid of it."
Ron was too busy staring at the Slytherin table to pay any attention to their conversation or the mounds of hash browns Harry was stealing. His eyes fixated on the long strains of shiny hair delicately falling on top the head of Miss Elise Wings. It wasn't until Harry waved his hand in front of Ron that he jolted back into reality.
"Sorry, mate. I was just, well, thinking of classes."
"Ha!" Hermione chuckled. "You, thinking about school? What a lame excuse, Ron. We know you have a crush on that Slytherin girl."
Ron gulped loudly. "I, I do not!" His cheeks reddened and sweat trickled down his forehead. "Harry, tell her I DO NOT like any SLYTHERIN girl!"
Silence was his reply as Harry tried very hard not to laugh. Instead, he moved over so Fly could sit down and join them for breakfast.
"Good morning, gentlemen and my lady," he said in a very smooth and intriguing voice. Fly then gently grabbed Hermione's hand and gave it a kiss. She tried not to blush but sometimes it is uncontrollable.
"Your what?" Ron asked after coughing out a chunk of what was left of his pancake.
"She is a lady, Sir Ron. It is quite obvious. Hermione is actually helping me with my studies. I am not too good with basic Alchemy, and well, my lady here is good at everything."
"Stop calling her your lady," Ron retorted back.
"If you wish," Fly responded. "It is just habit I am afraid. So, what is your first class today, Ron Weasley?"
"Today I have…" Ron had to look at his schedule. "History of the Dark Arts with, ugh, Professor Snape."
"Splendid. I also have that course."
"Goodie," Ron said and focused on squeezing a miniature orange onto his fork.
"Hermione, where will you be at?" Harry said in a more upbeat voice, trying to break tensions between Ron and Fly.
"I have N.E.W.T. Herbology first. Oh, that reminds me. I better get there early. I wasn't sure if I needed the third or fourth edition of the 'Lively Herbs for Wizards and Witches' book, so of course I bought both."
"Right. We'll see you around then," Harry said as Hermione left the table in a hurry.
"Isn't she lovely?" Fly asked as he started to dig into his breakfast.
Ron laughed. "If lovely means an irritating, smart-alecky know-it-all."
Fly's mouth hung open. "I don't understand why you are so rude."
Harry wanted to reply 'because Ron likes Hermione obviously' but he couldn't do that. It would be very impolite and cruel and…
"Because Ron likes Hermione!" Harry shouted extremely loud. The whole Gryffindor table and several people in the surrounding tables heard him.
"That's not, that's, that's…" Ron's face turned from white to red to a deadly purple. After squinting his eyes at Harry, Ron grabbed his books and ran off out of the Great Hall.
"Why did you do that, Harry?" Fly asked in disgust and bewilderment.
"I, I don't know," Harry said in a low voice thinking to himself. He knew he wanted to say it but never would. Then again he just did it, hurting Ron and embarrassing the both of them.
***
"Welcome to your first ever and required class, The History of the Dark Arts. Now, we will not be performing any spells so save your whining for another teacher who cares. I assume—" Snape began his speech but was interrupted by the slamming of his door.
"Mister Ron Weasley? You are ten minutes late! 25 points from Gryffindor."
Ron's face was red and puffy, and his eyes were barely visible at all. He sat next to Fly and for a second peered over to Harry who was next to Neville Longbottom. How could Harry do such a thing? Did he hit his head that hard in the forest?
"Where was I? Ah, yes, your books. I assume you read the History of Magical Wizards last year. We will be reviewing that for the next week and then move on to a more interesting agenda. Take out your parchments and write ten lines on how the ministries evolved and site a few cases that support your accusation." Snape stopped, walked down the isle to Ron and leaned over his desk. "I expect ten extra lines from you, Mister Weasley, explaining how tardiness was punished in the good, ancient days."
Ron did not even look up to Snape; instead, he was too busy concentrating on the breakfast incident. Luckily, Hermione was not there to hear it, but what if she was? That would make things extremely awkward.
"Psst, Harry," Neville whispered to the right of him. "Do you have a spare parchment?"
Harry, his eyes off in a daze, mumbled something, reached into his bag and pulled out a few scrolls. He then tossed one to Neville and continued thinking to himself. How can I fix this? Ron hates me now and most people worry about me as it is. I just want to leave, go home and see Sirius again. But I know he won't be there, at least in the physical world.
SNAP.
"Mr. Potter!" Snape yelled after slamming his wand against Harry's blank parchment.
"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked in a calm voice.
"Maybe you misheard me, Potter. I said ten lines by the end of class. You have not written anything, anything at all. You read the book last year?"
Harry nodded.
"Good. Ten more points from Gryffindor! And I expect you to start writing or detentions I will start giving out."
But Harry was not too angry with him. He should have been doing his assignment in the first place. And then again, it was Snape, and he expected such cruelty from him.
"I just want to leave," Harry mumbled in a low voice to himself but enough so Neville could hear.
"You worried about your paper? I haven't gotten anything either," Neville responded, pointing at his blank parchment as well.
SLAM.
Snape jumped from his seat and looked around the room with his black eyes. Every head was on top of the desks and parchments, busily scribing.
SLAM.
This time the noise was much louder and coming from the door's direction. Carefully, Snape approached the door with his wand and turned the knob, perhaps expecting a monster of some sort. Partially, he was correct.
"Malicia!" Harry shouted, watching his broomstick fly toward him and stop only inches in front of his nose. "I didn't call for you."
"But, I heard Harry Potter. Harry Potter 'just wants to leave'," the broomstick responded.
Snape's eyes widened as he ran over to the Firebolt and grabbed it away from Harry's face.
"Enchanted broomsticks are strictly forbidden, Mr. Potter! Is this how the Gryffindors have won so many Quidditch games? You put some sort of spell on your Firebolt? Answer me!"
Harry's neck turned pink, and his face began to boil. Why won't Snape just shut up? Snape had no idea it was a Driveller that only recently started to speak. But Ron did… If only he had said something before Harry did.
"Shut up, Snape!" Harry shouted.
"Excuse me? I must have misheard you this time. Did you just tell me to 'shut up'?"
"Yes, and I'll do it again. Shut up, Snape!"
All amusement from the classmates' faces drowned in paleness. They were all so shocked that Harry could do such a thing to Snape. Yes, he'd argue but not directly tell a teacher to shut up.
"Fifty, no, seventy-five, no, one hundred points from Gryffindor! And a month's worth of detention, Potter! I do not know what game you are trying to play, but no one mouths me off!"
Snape's nose now touched Harry's as he breathed heavily.
"How could anyone mouth you off when you won't shut up!" Harry continued to yell, unable to control his wrath. Before Snape could take any more points away, Harry jumped onto Malicia, grabbed his bag and flew off, leaving his classmates behind.
Snape gulped and turned to his class shaken up and sweat pouring off his brow. "Continue your work! I have a few issues to deal with… Mister Mal—" Snape stopped to realize Draco did not have this class that period of the day. He was so used to it that he didn't even check his roster. "I mean, Mister Schafly! You're in charge until the end of class. No one will leave until they are dismissed! Understood?"
Whispers and then loud chatter followed their dozen nods. After Snape left the room, slamming the door, Fly got up and yelled,
"Settle down, settle down. There is only one thing we all should be discussing now."
Groans followed moans, as no one wanted to do any sort of class work now.
"Of course, we will discuss… What the hell is wrong with Harry Potter?"