Chapter Five

Ron's Theory

The first week of term passed slowly. Harry, Ron and Hermione fell back into their studies, though it wasn't smooth going- they had homework every night from at least three different teachers. Snape piled it on the most- seeming to think that he could make most of them fail under the sheer weight of work they had to do out of class. Hermione fell upon her homework every night with a relish that was almost scary.

They didn't see much of Lily that week- except in class, when she usually paired up with Hermione if teamwork was required. Harry didn't know where she went at lunchtimes and after school, but she was almost always the last one sitting up in the common room before he went to bed. He began to wonder whether she slept at all.

On Tuesday the following week they had Defence Against the Dark Arts late in the day. Lily took a seat next to Hermione and Harry took his usual place beside Ron. Finchley strode in moments later, casually late as was becoming habit for him, and dropped his large leather suitcase on his desk.

"Right, ah... please take out your copies of Defensive Magical Theory and open them to page 630." A unanimous groan rose up from the class.

Seamus Finnigan put his hand up. "Sir, we've already done this book."

"We finished it last year," someone else said.

Finchley looked around the classroom. "I see. Well, I apologise. I know your teaching in this subject has been a little... ah... irregular."

Everyone laughed. This was the understatement of the century. Finchley reached into his dusty overcoat and pulled out a wand. His eyes scanned the rows of students and then, abruptly, he pointed his wand directly at Harry.

Harry's stomach clenched instinctively. The irrational thought sped through his mind that Finchley was going to attack him. But Finchley smiled and said, "Harry. I know your experience of defensive spells is far above most of the others here, what with your -er...experiences- with the Dark Arts... I wonder if you'd be so good as to join me in a demonstration of some spell-work for the class."

Harry relaxed a little, and got to his feet, making his way reluctantly down to the front. He didn't like the way Finchley kept making him the centre of attention but he thought Finchley was otherwise harmless...

Finchley smiled in encouragement and instructed Harry to stand opposite him and to prepare himself. Harry took out his wand and faced him, feeling uncertain.

"Now I am going to direct a curse at you, Harry," Finchley said. "I want you to do your best to deflect it. Make sure you aim away from the class."

The students shifted in their seats, looking nervous. Finchley raised his wand hand. "Ready?" he said. Harry gave a quick nod, and stared intently at Finchley's wand. It was quite long and made of some dark, polished wood.

Finchley drew in a breath, and Harry stiffened, his own wand raised and ready.

"Immobilus!" Finchley shouted, and flicked his wand. A green burst of light shot towards Harry.

"Expelliarmus!" Blue light beamed out of his wand and collided with the green, there was a loud bang, and both bounced off towards the windows and evaporated.

"Very good!" Finchley said. "Now, again! Watch him, everybody."

Finchley paused for few beats, and then said "Flipendo!"

"Expelliarmus!" Came Harry's answering shout. Again the spell was deflected easily and bounced loudly off Harry's wand, evaporating harmlessly into the air. Finchley tried a few more practice spells, each one slightly more powerful than the last.

"Locomotor Mortis!"

"Expelliarmus!"

BANG.

"Incarcerous!"

"Expelliarmus!"

BANG.

"Tarantallegra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

BANG.

Finally Finchley stood back, breathing heavily and smiling. Harry shook his hair back from his forehead and stood ready, waiting. "That'll do for now, Harry. Thank you for your help."

Harry lowered his wand, barely out of breath, and started to walk back to his seat, feeling pleased with himself. Then, without warning, Finchley yelled, "Inacuburitas!"

The foot that Harry had raised in mid-step was jerked out from under him with tremendous force, and as he fell face-forwards towards the floor, his other leg was yanked up as if by an invisible hand and he was lifted into the air and hovered, upside-down, six inches off the floor with his robe hanging over his head. His glasses slipped off his nose and hit the ground with a crack. Harry flailed around with his wand hand, desperately trying to aim at Finchley and shoot, but his robe was covering his head and he couldn't see.

A few people were laughing, most of the others looked nervous. Finchley was smiling merrily. Harry could hear the blood pounding in his temples, and started feeling dizzy.

"Ah, you see, I caught you off your guard that time," Finchley said amicably, gave a swish of his wand, and Harry felt himself yanked around in mid air- his stomach twisted sickeningly- and then he was righted and deposited back on the floor. He staggered and threw out a hand to steady himself. Finchley had bent down and now picked up Harry's glasses.

"Sorry about that, Harry. Reparo," he said, and handed Harry back his glasses, which were now fixed. "Hope you don't mind. Just for the purposes of demonstration and all." Harry, who had recovered his balance and his wits, put his glasses back on and glanced mistrustfully through them at Finchley. Finchley laughed. "That's alright, now. You can step down. Class, give Harry a round of applause."

The students clapped, impressed, as Harry walked back to his seat, feeling embarrassed, and not liking having his back turned on Finchley.

"Right, now- I'll get you all to have a go at some basic defensive spells. Find a partner, and practice. And remember, don't turn your back on your opponent."

After the class they filed out into the corridor, glad to be free for the rest of the day. Finchley had been impressed with his students progress- most of them had attended Harry's DA meetings and had become quite proficient at defensive spell-work. Finchley reminded them to hand in their essay (famous vampires in literature and history) on Thursday. Ron had groaned as they left the classroom.

"I haven't even started it," he said. Harry sympathised with him. He had almost finished his, but he suspected it wasn't very good and he would have to get Hermione to proof-read it for him (in other words, correct all his mistakes).

"Ron, honestly," Hermione sighed. She turned to Harry and raised her eyebrows. "I'm going to the library to study. Are you two coming? Ron, you can start your essay."

Ron chewed his lip, debating, and then glanced out the window at the strong afternoon sunlight. "It's so dark in the library," he said glumly. Harry strongly suspected ths might be an excuse. "I'll do it tonight, though. Promise," he added, at Hermione's sour look. She turned to Harry.

"Er... yeah, I've only got a little bit left to do. I'll finish it off later."

She rolled her eyes. Then Lily, who had hovered nearby as they were talking, said, "I might head to the library and finish my History of Magic assignment."

Hermione smiled at her. "Well... you can come with me if you want!" she said, sounding delighted.

"Ok," Lily said, and smiled at Harry and Ron. "See you later," she said, and she and Hermione headed off on their own.

Ron shook his head in disbelief. "Hermione's a bad influence on her, I think."

Later that night after dinner in the great hall, Ron and Harry climbed through the portrait hole into the common room for a game of wizard's chess to find Hermione and Lily sitting in chairs by the fire, poring over a large pile of textbooks. There were small scatterings of students elsewhere in the room, standing and laughing or talking quietly.

Hermione looked up as they approached, and seated themselves in a pair of chairs close by. "What are you two doing?" Ron asked, as he set up the chess pieces on a small table in front of him.

"We're doing work, Ron," Hermione said, aloof. "Something you wouldn't have much experience with."

Lily smiled. Ron rolled his eyes, looked at her and said confidentially, "don't encourage her."

Lily and Hermione both laughed. Harry, seated opposite from Ron, leaned forward and moved his knight.

The fire crackled merrily. The only other sounds were the soft murmur of voices and laughter, and the occasional 'plunk' of one of the chess pieces being knocked over.

"I thought you were going to do your vampire essay," Hermione reminded him, glancing up from behind The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6.

"I was," Ron said lazily. "I mean, I am," he amended quickly, at her sharp look. "Don't worry, I've got ages to do it."

"You've got tomorrow," Lily told him. Harry grinned.

"Yeah- ages," Ron said, but looking worried.

Hermione snapped her book shut. "Look Ron, if you're not going to do it on your own, I'll help you. Just please make a start, ok?"

Ron looked up from the chess board where another of his peices had been pulverized- Harry was winning. Then he gave a grunt and said, "ok, then. Sorry, Harry..."

"Yeah, I better finish mine too."

They packed away the board and then ducked upstairs to get their homework.

Returning to the fire, Ron said, "why do we have to write about vampires, anyway? We did that before."

"Not literary vampires," Hermione said. "And anyway -I think they're fascinating."

Ron thought about telling her she thought everything was fascinating, but held back. He opened A Guide To Demonology and began to read.

After five minutes he lifted his head and said loudly, "you know, I think Professor Finchley might be vampire."

Harry restrained the urge to laugh, while Hermione just looked exasperated. Lily gave a kind of choking cough and clapped her hand over her mouth.

Ron glanced and Lily and, hurt by her reaction, went on quickly, "no, I mean- really! He might be. It says here that vampires are really pale and have 'strangely coloured eyes'-" Ron read this from the book as he spoke. "And Finchley's got weird eyes. I've never seen him eat anything. Have you?" He looked at Harry. Harry shook his head.

"But Ron... I don't think they let vampires teach at Hogwarts."

"How do you know?" Ron's eyes glowed with excitement in the firelight.

"Vampires aren't wizards," Hermione said, as if telling him for the millionth time. "Only wizards can teach at Hogwarts."

"Lupin was a werewolf!"

"Yes, but he was also a wizard, and he wasn't a vampire."

Ron looked angrily back to the book. "I bet Finchley is though. He's got this funny sort of smell... like old coffin lining..."

Just when Harry thought he could contain himself no longer, Lily broke the ice and burst out laughing. She still had her hand to her mouth and tried to hold it in for Ron's sake, but it took a while for her to get her breath. Hermione and Harry watched her, amused.

"He's not... a vampire," she said in a voice choked with laughter. "He's my uncle!"

Their mouths dropped open. Even Ron stopped looking insulted and stared at her in disbelief.

"Oh... sorry, I- I didn't mean to... if I offended you..." he stammered.

"Oh, no, that's alright..." Lily said breathlessly. "I'm sure there are... plenty of... nice vampires..."

They all began to laugh, Ron included. Tears sprang from Lily's eyes and she doubled up in her seat, shaking with laughter.

Eventually they calmed down and Lily wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Ron looked down at his book, smiling.

"McGonagall never told us," Hermione said. "When she introduced you. She never said anything."

"I guess we thought it would be easier if no-one knew," Lily reflected. She smiled into the fire. "It would have made it a bit awkward for me in all his classes. People might think I was getting special treatment or something."

Hermione nodded. "So you live with him?"

"Yeah, we've been renting a little flat in London since we moved here, just to go back to during the holidays, you know. I moved from a wizarding school in Ireland."

"Why'd you move?" Harry asked casually, looking at her. Immediately he wished he hadn't said anything. Lily's smile had faded and she was now staring into the fire as if to avoid their gaze.

"Um..."

"Actually, you don't have to tell us, it's ok," Harry said quickly, but Lily gave a small smile and looked down at her hands where they gripped the book in her lap, now closed.

"It's ok..." she began, and then paused as if struggling for words. "Well... something bad happened there. At my old school." Another pause. Harry had gone stiff in his chair, and was wishing he had never opened his mouth. "There was an attack on the school, and a lot of students died. The school was closed down. Aurian -my uncle... brought me here. He thought I would be safe here."

Ron's eyes had grown wide and he was staring at her in mingled fascination, pity and horror. Hermione was breathing shallowly. A loud burst of laughter pealed across the room and she jumped slightly.

A heavy, uneasy silence fell. There was an unspoken question in Ron, Harry, and Hermione's mind ... safe from what? which they couldn't bring themselves to ask. There were pinpoints of light in Lily's eyes which might have been tears, but it was hard to tell. They sat this way for what seemed like an hour (but which was really only about sixty seconds) and then Lily perked up suddenly and said, "Aurian taught Defence Against the Dark Arts at my old school, too. He was training to become an Auror, but he... he never finished it," she ended awkwardly.

Harry knew she was trying to change the subject and he was only too happy to help. "I want to be an Auror too," he said, realizing as it left his mouth how childish it sounded, but Lily smiled at him.

"Yeah, Aurors are wicked," Ron said in admiration. Lily laughed, and the others smiled.

Silence fell upon the group once more but it was a more companionable one. Ron returned to his homework, raising his head occasionally to ask Hermione questions, and Harry gave Hermione his finished essay to read.

Eventually they grew tired and headed to bed, Lily and Hermione splitting off in the other direction.

As Harry lay in bed that night his mind kept returning to Lily. He wondered what horrible thing had happened at her school that had forced it to close. And what had attacked her?