Chapter Four - First Day of Lessons
Peeves greeted the students in his usual way, harassing them. This year he decided to drop a few dung bombs at the students that were unlucky enough to enter through the oak doors first. Professor McGonagall came in and quickly cleared up the matter straight away.
"Peeves! If you don't get out of this hall this instant, I'll get the Bloody Baron," she threatened.
"Don't think I won't be back," he said, blowing a raspberry and dropping the rest of the dung bombs onto a group of Hufflepuff third years.
McGonagall cleaned the mess with a simple wave of her wand. Harry was following the chattering crowd into the Great Hall when Professor McGonagall stopped him.
"Mr. Potter, I need a quick word with you," she said steering him away from the doors to the Great Hall.
He didn't think he had done anything wrong, yet, unless maybe Malfoy's foamy mouth, but that was Luna. He thought she was going to lead him to her office but she only took him off to the side.
"Yes, Professor?" he asked.
"I wanted to talk to you about your N.E.W.T. classes. You may have noticed you were accepted into Potions with only an 'E'?" she said.
"Yeah," he said, "Why?"
"I had a talk with Professors Dumbledore and Snape and after a long argument he agreed to accept you into his class. There are certain requirements you must meet though. Snape can kick you of the class if you, at any time, disrupt lessons, talk back, or anything else of that sort. Also, you are to not miss a single assignment. You need this class to get into Auror training," she said sternly, "In other words, do not fool around in there."
Harry nodded as he digested this. Potions would be hell this year.
"I must go and bring in the first years. You can go to the Great Hall now," she said.
Harry hurried into the Great Hall and fell into a seat that Ron and Hermione had saved him.
"What was that about?" Ron asked.
"Potions," Harry said shortly, as he saw the line of first years coming in, lead by Professor McGonagall.
The sorting never really kept Harry or Ron's attention. Ron was complaining that he was hungry and Harry was scanning the staff table. Remus was sitting between Professor McGonagall's empty seat and a pretty witch with Raven hair in dark red robes. He figured she must be Professor Green. Looking up and down the staff table, he saw no signs of the new Pure Arts teacher. He was about to point this out Hermione but his attention was drawn to the sorting.
"This year, we have a transfer student, from the United States. It is a rare event, though not unheard of. She will be sorted as the first years were," Professor McGonagall said, "Bowden, Aira."
Aira climbed up to the stool, nervously and sat down. After a long pause, it proclaimed, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry joined in with the rest of the house as they clapped. She smiled brightly as she took a seat proudly at the Gryffindor table. Dumbledore stood and the hall hushed instantly.
He beamed at the students before him and said simply, "Tuck in."
The plates appeared laden with food. Ron was eagerly piling his own dish with a bit of everything he could reach. Hermione tutted and rolled her eyes at him. He either didn't notice or didn't care.
"Why isn't the new teacher up there, you think?" Harry asked Hermione, as he filled his own plate.
"I was wondering that, too. The one beside Professor Lupin is Annissa Green. So the missing one must be for Pure Arts," she said.
"So, Harry, what did McGonagall want with you about Potions?" Ron asked after swallowing a mouthful of steak.
"She said that I'm only in there because she was able to convince Snape into letting me be and so I have to be a good boy in the class or I'm out," he said moodily, "So now I don't only have to sit through the git's class, I have to take his shit, too."
"But you need it to be an auror," Hermione said.
"Doesn't mean I'm going to be happy about it, though," Harry said. He didn't really want to think about his upcoming lessons with Snape so he tried to turn the conversation towards something more agreeable. He asked Aira, was two seats down, "So, are you still interested in trying out for the team?"
"Course I am," she said with zest.
After the feast, Dumbledore stood and gave his usual speech, making reference to the forest being out of bounds, a number of prohibited objects, and a few other things.
Harry felt exhausted as Dumbledore dismissed them off to bed. He was exceptionally glad he wasn't made prefect when he saw a tired looking Ron and Hermione help the first years to Gryffindor tower.
"Harry, you don't mind if I walk with you. I don't really want to be with the little first years," Aira said walking beside him.
"Sure thing," Harry said leading her away from the crowd towards Gryffindor Tower. They didn't talk much on the way, being too tired to make conversation. A seventh year prefect was outside.
"Frilly Socks," the boy muttered and the portrait swung open. Aira followed Harry inside where Hermione was standing at the fireplace, giving the first years a quick briefing while Ron leaned against the wall, eyes drooping.
"Hermione will show you the girls dormitory," Harry said to Aira, "I'm going to head up now. I'm dead tired."
"Goodnight," she said.
"Night," he replied.
Harry drug himself up the stairs and fell into his bed, not bothering to change into bed clothes. As soon as head hit pillow, he was out. If he had expected a good night's sleep on his first day back to Hogwarts, he was wrong.
His normal dreams were interrupted by a snakelike voice that seemed to not come from someone but to just exist in his head.
"Now, Harry. Why bother yourself with this whole game? Dumbledore is an old fool. He doesn't know what to do or how to stop me. I have forces beyond what you or he can comprehend. Just waiting, biding my time a bit more. You can so easily have whatever you would like. Just tell me what I wish to know," the voice of Voldemort said.
"No!" Harry shouted and he awoke with a pain in his scar.
"What's up, mate?" Ron asked tiredly from his bed.
"Er- Crookshanks was up here bothering me," he lied quickly. He didn't want Ron running to Dumbledore like he said he would. He knew he should let Dumbledore know, but on the other hand he was going to be learning Occlumency so this would stop soon.
The next morning was a Monday and so Harry had Occlumency that evening with Dumbledore. At breakfast, they all received schedules. The first lesson of the day was Potions with Snape. Aira and Hermione would be there with him. Ron would be at Care of Magical Creatures during that time and didn't miss the opportunity to gloat about it.
"Should have given it up like me," he said.
"It's raining, Ron. You'll be going out in the rain while I'm inside," Harry said.
"I'd definitely rather be outside in the rain with Lupin than in Potions with Snape any day," Ron replied.
Their next lesson was Transfiguration and after lunch, Harry was glad to see, their was only one class, Pure Arts, a double period with the rest of the sixth year Gryffindors.
Harry ate his breakfast quickly and made his way down to the cold dungeons with Hermione and Aira, while Ron pulled on his cloak and made his way out to Hagrid's hut. In the classroom were only four other students. Harry thought more would probably show up but none did. The class existed of only seven students. As soon as the bell rang, Snape shut the door with a snap and began the lesson.
"All of you in the class, except a select few, have been deemed worthy of studying the more in depth art of potion making. I expect nothing less than perfect from every student. This is, after all, N.E.W.T. level Potions. There will be no more fooling around in this classroom. I will not put up with it from any of you. Get started at this Potion," he snapped, pointing to the board.
Harry worked extra hard to get the potion correct. He ignored the fact that Snape was loudly talking to Malfoy about how incompetent certain students were and staring at him while doing so and he was fairly surprised when his potion was doing exactly what it should, giving off purple steam and yellow sparks.
Snape threw a loathing glare at Harry, as he passed when inspecting the potions. He said nothing about it, meaning Harry had actually managed a pass on his first day's assignment.
"Good job," Hermione whispered to him.
"Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape snapped suddenly at Hermione, "The only one who shall hand out compliments in this class is me."
"That-" Harry began but stopped himself, remembering McGonagall's warning.
"That's right, Potter. Keep that big mouth of yours shut. Another ten from Gryffindor for almost talking back to me. And be glad it isn't more," he said with a smirk.
Harry desperately wanted to punch his Snape in his crooked nose but held back the temptation. He settled for staring daggers at his greasy haired professor. Snape was only bitter because he could not find a way to give Harry a zero for his days work.
As soon as the bell rang, Harry was out of the door. He wasn't going to spend a second longer than he had to with Snape. Hermione and Aira were at his heels. They met up with Ron in the entrance hall, coming in soaked from his lesson. Hermione performed a quick drying spell for him.
"Thanks. But like I said before, I'd rather be out in the rain with Lupin than dry with Snape," he taunted.
"Shut it," Harry snapped and started up the marble staircase for the Gryffindor common room to drop his Potions things off before going to Transfiguration.
The lesson was a bit tedious as it was only a review of what they did last year. Professor McGonagall set them to work transfiguring spoons into lizards. Harry was surprised when he didn't get by his sixth attempt. Hermione of course did it on her first try. Even Ron had it by his second, though the tail still had a silver tint. All Harry managed was a spoon with scaly legs. He threw his wand down in frustration. It seemed his first day of classes never went well. Hermione hadn't even attempted to tell him what he was doing wrong. She saw he was in one of his moods and this didn't make him feel any better. He put his head down in his arms and closed his eyes.
"Mr. Potter, I believe you are supposed to be transfiguring your spoon," Professor McGonagall said sharply.
"Right," he muttered, picking up his wand.
"Stay after class," she said.
Harry groaned and made another attempt to transfigure the legged spoon, laying before him. He was very grateful when the bell rang and class ended.
"We'll see you at lunch," Ron said gathering his books.
Harry nodded. Once everyone was gone, he went up to Professor McGonagall's desk, expecting to be told off.
"You had your first class with Snape this morning. Correct?" she asked.
Harry looked at her questioningly and nodded.
"If I see that taking the class with him is going to effect your performance in others, I will reconsider my decision to let you take it," she said austerely, "Professor Snape is not going to make the class easy for you. Get over it."
Harry was taken aback by this. He didn't expect anything like that to come out of his Professor's mouth.
"Do you understand me, Mr. Potter?" she asked.
"Yes," he said irritably.
"You may go," she said.
He grabbed his things and left the classroom. He doubted whether she could stand an hour and a half with Snape and come out being happy. He wanted to tell her this, but he thought he'd rather not have a detention that evening.
"There you go," he muttered irately, "Controlled my temper. Isn't that what you wanted me to learn to do?"
"One sign of madness is talking to yourself," someone said from behind him.
He was about to snap at them but when he turned and saw Whitley, his anger abated.
"Oh, hi," he said.
"So I take it today just isn't going well for you?" she asked.
"Not particularly," he said, "So where are you headed?"
"Lunch," she said.
"Me too. We can walk together if you want," he said bravely.
"Okay," she said.
When they entered the great hall, talking and laughing, they got quite a few odd looks, including Cho Chang.
"They seem a bit surprised to see a Gryffindor with a Slytherin, don't they?" Whitley laughed.
"None of their business who we want to be friends with," Harry said.
"I'm in Charms before dinner. So I'll see you then," she grinned.
"Yeah. See you then," Harry said. She sat at the end of the Slytherin table with a few others. Harry sat beside Ron, in much better sprits than earlier. He didn't know how he could have felt so bitter earlier.
"So you really do fancy her?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged, "I think so."
"I must say this choice is better than your last one," Ginny said, "I always thought Cho was a bit of an idiot."
"But this one is a Slytherin," Ron said.
"Don't," Harry said, "She isn't really like them. She even told me that she thinks most of them are gits. So give her a try."
"She does seem like a nice girl. And just because she's a Slytherin doesn't mean she is a bad person. There are plenty of people who come from bad families but turn out good," Aira said.
"Sirius," Harry almost whispered, "You saw what his family was like."
"Okay," Ron said.
"Wait a minute. Her last name is Nott, isn't it?" Ginny asked.
Harry nodded and then realization dawned on him, "The Department of Mysteries. Nott, he was the Death Eater Hermione stunned."
"That was her father," Ginny said, "I remember hearing Theodore Nott say his father was in Azkaban with Malfoy's on the train."
"I told you," Ron said, "She is--"
"It isn't like that. It doesn't automatically make her a bad person because her family is bad," Aira interrupted, "There are people in every family that are horrible. So don't even begin to think that."
"She's right," Hermione said, though she did look at Aira inquisitively as if trying to decide something.
"I know she is. I like Whitley and I'm still going to be friends with her," Harry said firmly.
Harry left lunch early with Hermione, Ron, and Aira. They were all excited to see what the new class was going to be like. And they still hadn't heard who the new teacher would be.
The classroom was on the first floor. Harry noticed it was the same used by Firenze last year when he came to teach Divination. When they entered, Harry was faintly surprised to see the forest setting that it had been the year before. Harry took a seat against one of the trees and looked around. Their new teacher hadn't arrived yet.
"Do you think Firenze will be the teacher?" Harry asked.
"He can't. Centaurs aren't allowed to do magic," Hermione said.
The rest of the Gryffindors arrived early too. They were all sitting and chatting when the teacher arrived. It was Firenze.
"Good afternoon," he said, "And welcome to the Pure Arts. I believe you all know me from last year's Divination class. This year I shall be teaching the Pure Arts to all of you. For those of you who do not know, the Pure Arts is the ability to do magic without use of wand. Now, before I begin. Do any of you have any questions?"
Seamus Finnigan's hand shot into the air, "I thought Centaurs aren't allowed the use of magic?"
"The law you are speaking of does not grant us permission to own or use a wand. There are no laws prohibiting the use of magic," he said, "Anything else?"
When no one raised their hands, he began again, "I doubt any of you will be able to accomplish much today. Pure Arts is a very difficult study. It will take much practice. Each of you take out a piece of parchment and set it before you. The Pure Arts feeds off your emotions. I'm sure that when you were younger and you got very angry, scared, or happy, you noticed that something odd would happen. Perhaps a breaking toy or a flying pet."
"The blowing up of an aunt..." Ron snickered and Harry grinned.
"Today," Firenze continued, "We will be using anger as a source of power. I want you to concentrate on something that makes you very angry. Then focus on the task at hand, which will be ripping the parchment in front of you without touching it or using your wand. Begin."
Harry looked down at the piece of parchment in front of him. He imagined it being ripped right along the middle. He remembered back to when he had blown up his aunt. He had been pretty angry then. If only he had this class after Potions. He would have caused the paper to rip into tiny shreds. He focused on Snape's pallid face and then on the paper. Nothing happened. Firenze walked around the class, giving help.
"This is hard," Hermione sighed as he approached them.
"Miss Granger, what is something that makes you very angry?" Firenze asked.
"Er-- well, the way people treat house elves, like they are slaves," Hermione said.
Firenze stared down at her intently for a few seconds and then said, "Do you have one particular incident you can focus on?"
"Yes. Mr. Crouch fired his house elf, Winky, at the World Cup two years ago. He was really cruel to her," Hermione said.
"Focus on this until you can feel your self become angry. Then look at the parchment and imagine it being torn," he said, "All of you, do the same with your own memory of something that made you angry."
Hermione closed her eyes as she focused and then opened them, looking at the paper. It crumpled a little bit.
"That is a start. Very good, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor," Firenze said, "All of you try. Five points to everyone who can damage the paper in some way and ten if it rips completely."
Harry focused again on Snape and not his class that morning but the occlumency lessons. How Snape had broken into his mind on countless occasions. How he had weakened his mind, making it so Voldemort could get in as he believed. He opened his eyes, anger coursing through him. He focused it all on that paper and slowly it began to rip down the middle.
"Well done!" Firenze commended as he saw Harry's paper ripping itself.
Harry fell back against the tree. It was exhausting to do wandless magic. Though he also felt like he let go of some of that anger when doing it. At the end of class, Firenze congratulated them all.
"That was good work. Next lesson, we'll continue working on it, though trying a different emotion. Different emotions will work better for some people than for others. Once you all can rip a piece of parchment easily, we will move on to something more challenging. There will never be written homework in this class. I only ask that you practice a bit every day. You are dismissed."
He let them leave ten minutes before the bell rang, something Hogwarts teachers rarely if ever did. Harry went off by himself to the Charms corridor and waited outside Professor Flitwick's class for Whitley.
"Watch it, Potter," a Slytherin seventh year threatened as he came from Flitwick's class as the bell rang.
"Hi, Harry," Whitley said when she emerged, "You're here sooner than I expected."
"You planned on meeting him?" one of the girls scowled, "I always said there was something wrong with Teddy's sister."
"You didn't mention it when you stayed over Tara's with me last summer," Whitley said, "You all know Tara, don't you? Nice muggle born from Ravenclaw."
The girl turned a shade of red and stalked away. Whitley took Harry's arm and they walked away together.
"I need to drop my bag off, first," she said to Harry.
"Okay," he said. He tried to think of something to say and settled lamely on, "How was class?"
"Fine. Did you have Defense, yet?" she asked.
"No. I have it tomorrow," he said.
"Professor Green is a really good teacher. A bit strict, though," she said, "She mentioned a Defense club this year at Hogwarts. The DA. I want to join. I think it would be cool, don't you?"
"I'm already kind of a member," he said.
"You are? But she said that it doesn't start for a few weeks, yet," Whitley said.
"It started last year when we had Umbridge. I led it. It was kind of a secret club. This year we're allowed, though," Harry explained.
"So you're the leader of the club?" she said, impressed.
"I still have to talk to Dumbledore about it. Decide days and stuff," he said, "So you want to join?"
"Yeah, it would be good to learn this stuff," she said as they reached the Dungeons, "I'll be right back."
Harry waited for her outside the entrance and she returned a few minutes later. Harry enjoyed every minute spent with her. He ignored the catcalls coming from a few Slytherins and the looks from others as did Whitley. He sat down with his friends at the Gryffindor table, helping himself to chicken and potatoes.
His mood was the complete opposite of what it had been in the morning, and it didn't even change in the slightest when he made his way to Dumbledore's office for his Occlumency lessons.
Peeves greeted the students in his usual way, harassing them. This year he decided to drop a few dung bombs at the students that were unlucky enough to enter through the oak doors first. Professor McGonagall came in and quickly cleared up the matter straight away.
"Peeves! If you don't get out of this hall this instant, I'll get the Bloody Baron," she threatened.
"Don't think I won't be back," he said, blowing a raspberry and dropping the rest of the dung bombs onto a group of Hufflepuff third years.
McGonagall cleaned the mess with a simple wave of her wand. Harry was following the chattering crowd into the Great Hall when Professor McGonagall stopped him.
"Mr. Potter, I need a quick word with you," she said steering him away from the doors to the Great Hall.
He didn't think he had done anything wrong, yet, unless maybe Malfoy's foamy mouth, but that was Luna. He thought she was going to lead him to her office but she only took him off to the side.
"Yes, Professor?" he asked.
"I wanted to talk to you about your N.E.W.T. classes. You may have noticed you were accepted into Potions with only an 'E'?" she said.
"Yeah," he said, "Why?"
"I had a talk with Professors Dumbledore and Snape and after a long argument he agreed to accept you into his class. There are certain requirements you must meet though. Snape can kick you of the class if you, at any time, disrupt lessons, talk back, or anything else of that sort. Also, you are to not miss a single assignment. You need this class to get into Auror training," she said sternly, "In other words, do not fool around in there."
Harry nodded as he digested this. Potions would be hell this year.
"I must go and bring in the first years. You can go to the Great Hall now," she said.
Harry hurried into the Great Hall and fell into a seat that Ron and Hermione had saved him.
"What was that about?" Ron asked.
"Potions," Harry said shortly, as he saw the line of first years coming in, lead by Professor McGonagall.
The sorting never really kept Harry or Ron's attention. Ron was complaining that he was hungry and Harry was scanning the staff table. Remus was sitting between Professor McGonagall's empty seat and a pretty witch with Raven hair in dark red robes. He figured she must be Professor Green. Looking up and down the staff table, he saw no signs of the new Pure Arts teacher. He was about to point this out Hermione but his attention was drawn to the sorting.
"This year, we have a transfer student, from the United States. It is a rare event, though not unheard of. She will be sorted as the first years were," Professor McGonagall said, "Bowden, Aira."
Aira climbed up to the stool, nervously and sat down. After a long pause, it proclaimed, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry joined in with the rest of the house as they clapped. She smiled brightly as she took a seat proudly at the Gryffindor table. Dumbledore stood and the hall hushed instantly.
He beamed at the students before him and said simply, "Tuck in."
The plates appeared laden with food. Ron was eagerly piling his own dish with a bit of everything he could reach. Hermione tutted and rolled her eyes at him. He either didn't notice or didn't care.
"Why isn't the new teacher up there, you think?" Harry asked Hermione, as he filled his own plate.
"I was wondering that, too. The one beside Professor Lupin is Annissa Green. So the missing one must be for Pure Arts," she said.
"So, Harry, what did McGonagall want with you about Potions?" Ron asked after swallowing a mouthful of steak.
"She said that I'm only in there because she was able to convince Snape into letting me be and so I have to be a good boy in the class or I'm out," he said moodily, "So now I don't only have to sit through the git's class, I have to take his shit, too."
"But you need it to be an auror," Hermione said.
"Doesn't mean I'm going to be happy about it, though," Harry said. He didn't really want to think about his upcoming lessons with Snape so he tried to turn the conversation towards something more agreeable. He asked Aira, was two seats down, "So, are you still interested in trying out for the team?"
"Course I am," she said with zest.
After the feast, Dumbledore stood and gave his usual speech, making reference to the forest being out of bounds, a number of prohibited objects, and a few other things.
Harry felt exhausted as Dumbledore dismissed them off to bed. He was exceptionally glad he wasn't made prefect when he saw a tired looking Ron and Hermione help the first years to Gryffindor tower.
"Harry, you don't mind if I walk with you. I don't really want to be with the little first years," Aira said walking beside him.
"Sure thing," Harry said leading her away from the crowd towards Gryffindor Tower. They didn't talk much on the way, being too tired to make conversation. A seventh year prefect was outside.
"Frilly Socks," the boy muttered and the portrait swung open. Aira followed Harry inside where Hermione was standing at the fireplace, giving the first years a quick briefing while Ron leaned against the wall, eyes drooping.
"Hermione will show you the girls dormitory," Harry said to Aira, "I'm going to head up now. I'm dead tired."
"Goodnight," she said.
"Night," he replied.
Harry drug himself up the stairs and fell into his bed, not bothering to change into bed clothes. As soon as head hit pillow, he was out. If he had expected a good night's sleep on his first day back to Hogwarts, he was wrong.
His normal dreams were interrupted by a snakelike voice that seemed to not come from someone but to just exist in his head.
"Now, Harry. Why bother yourself with this whole game? Dumbledore is an old fool. He doesn't know what to do or how to stop me. I have forces beyond what you or he can comprehend. Just waiting, biding my time a bit more. You can so easily have whatever you would like. Just tell me what I wish to know," the voice of Voldemort said.
"No!" Harry shouted and he awoke with a pain in his scar.
"What's up, mate?" Ron asked tiredly from his bed.
"Er- Crookshanks was up here bothering me," he lied quickly. He didn't want Ron running to Dumbledore like he said he would. He knew he should let Dumbledore know, but on the other hand he was going to be learning Occlumency so this would stop soon.
The next morning was a Monday and so Harry had Occlumency that evening with Dumbledore. At breakfast, they all received schedules. The first lesson of the day was Potions with Snape. Aira and Hermione would be there with him. Ron would be at Care of Magical Creatures during that time and didn't miss the opportunity to gloat about it.
"Should have given it up like me," he said.
"It's raining, Ron. You'll be going out in the rain while I'm inside," Harry said.
"I'd definitely rather be outside in the rain with Lupin than in Potions with Snape any day," Ron replied.
Their next lesson was Transfiguration and after lunch, Harry was glad to see, their was only one class, Pure Arts, a double period with the rest of the sixth year Gryffindors.
Harry ate his breakfast quickly and made his way down to the cold dungeons with Hermione and Aira, while Ron pulled on his cloak and made his way out to Hagrid's hut. In the classroom were only four other students. Harry thought more would probably show up but none did. The class existed of only seven students. As soon as the bell rang, Snape shut the door with a snap and began the lesson.
"All of you in the class, except a select few, have been deemed worthy of studying the more in depth art of potion making. I expect nothing less than perfect from every student. This is, after all, N.E.W.T. level Potions. There will be no more fooling around in this classroom. I will not put up with it from any of you. Get started at this Potion," he snapped, pointing to the board.
Harry worked extra hard to get the potion correct. He ignored the fact that Snape was loudly talking to Malfoy about how incompetent certain students were and staring at him while doing so and he was fairly surprised when his potion was doing exactly what it should, giving off purple steam and yellow sparks.
Snape threw a loathing glare at Harry, as he passed when inspecting the potions. He said nothing about it, meaning Harry had actually managed a pass on his first day's assignment.
"Good job," Hermione whispered to him.
"Ten points from Gryffindor," Snape snapped suddenly at Hermione, "The only one who shall hand out compliments in this class is me."
"That-" Harry began but stopped himself, remembering McGonagall's warning.
"That's right, Potter. Keep that big mouth of yours shut. Another ten from Gryffindor for almost talking back to me. And be glad it isn't more," he said with a smirk.
Harry desperately wanted to punch his Snape in his crooked nose but held back the temptation. He settled for staring daggers at his greasy haired professor. Snape was only bitter because he could not find a way to give Harry a zero for his days work.
As soon as the bell rang, Harry was out of the door. He wasn't going to spend a second longer than he had to with Snape. Hermione and Aira were at his heels. They met up with Ron in the entrance hall, coming in soaked from his lesson. Hermione performed a quick drying spell for him.
"Thanks. But like I said before, I'd rather be out in the rain with Lupin than dry with Snape," he taunted.
"Shut it," Harry snapped and started up the marble staircase for the Gryffindor common room to drop his Potions things off before going to Transfiguration.
The lesson was a bit tedious as it was only a review of what they did last year. Professor McGonagall set them to work transfiguring spoons into lizards. Harry was surprised when he didn't get by his sixth attempt. Hermione of course did it on her first try. Even Ron had it by his second, though the tail still had a silver tint. All Harry managed was a spoon with scaly legs. He threw his wand down in frustration. It seemed his first day of classes never went well. Hermione hadn't even attempted to tell him what he was doing wrong. She saw he was in one of his moods and this didn't make him feel any better. He put his head down in his arms and closed his eyes.
"Mr. Potter, I believe you are supposed to be transfiguring your spoon," Professor McGonagall said sharply.
"Right," he muttered, picking up his wand.
"Stay after class," she said.
Harry groaned and made another attempt to transfigure the legged spoon, laying before him. He was very grateful when the bell rang and class ended.
"We'll see you at lunch," Ron said gathering his books.
Harry nodded. Once everyone was gone, he went up to Professor McGonagall's desk, expecting to be told off.
"You had your first class with Snape this morning. Correct?" she asked.
Harry looked at her questioningly and nodded.
"If I see that taking the class with him is going to effect your performance in others, I will reconsider my decision to let you take it," she said austerely, "Professor Snape is not going to make the class easy for you. Get over it."
Harry was taken aback by this. He didn't expect anything like that to come out of his Professor's mouth.
"Do you understand me, Mr. Potter?" she asked.
"Yes," he said irritably.
"You may go," she said.
He grabbed his things and left the classroom. He doubted whether she could stand an hour and a half with Snape and come out being happy. He wanted to tell her this, but he thought he'd rather not have a detention that evening.
"There you go," he muttered irately, "Controlled my temper. Isn't that what you wanted me to learn to do?"
"One sign of madness is talking to yourself," someone said from behind him.
He was about to snap at them but when he turned and saw Whitley, his anger abated.
"Oh, hi," he said.
"So I take it today just isn't going well for you?" she asked.
"Not particularly," he said, "So where are you headed?"
"Lunch," she said.
"Me too. We can walk together if you want," he said bravely.
"Okay," she said.
When they entered the great hall, talking and laughing, they got quite a few odd looks, including Cho Chang.
"They seem a bit surprised to see a Gryffindor with a Slytherin, don't they?" Whitley laughed.
"None of their business who we want to be friends with," Harry said.
"I'm in Charms before dinner. So I'll see you then," she grinned.
"Yeah. See you then," Harry said. She sat at the end of the Slytherin table with a few others. Harry sat beside Ron, in much better sprits than earlier. He didn't know how he could have felt so bitter earlier.
"So you really do fancy her?" Ron asked.
Harry shrugged, "I think so."
"I must say this choice is better than your last one," Ginny said, "I always thought Cho was a bit of an idiot."
"But this one is a Slytherin," Ron said.
"Don't," Harry said, "She isn't really like them. She even told me that she thinks most of them are gits. So give her a try."
"She does seem like a nice girl. And just because she's a Slytherin doesn't mean she is a bad person. There are plenty of people who come from bad families but turn out good," Aira said.
"Sirius," Harry almost whispered, "You saw what his family was like."
"Okay," Ron said.
"Wait a minute. Her last name is Nott, isn't it?" Ginny asked.
Harry nodded and then realization dawned on him, "The Department of Mysteries. Nott, he was the Death Eater Hermione stunned."
"That was her father," Ginny said, "I remember hearing Theodore Nott say his father was in Azkaban with Malfoy's on the train."
"I told you," Ron said, "She is--"
"It isn't like that. It doesn't automatically make her a bad person because her family is bad," Aira interrupted, "There are people in every family that are horrible. So don't even begin to think that."
"She's right," Hermione said, though she did look at Aira inquisitively as if trying to decide something.
"I know she is. I like Whitley and I'm still going to be friends with her," Harry said firmly.
Harry left lunch early with Hermione, Ron, and Aira. They were all excited to see what the new class was going to be like. And they still hadn't heard who the new teacher would be.
The classroom was on the first floor. Harry noticed it was the same used by Firenze last year when he came to teach Divination. When they entered, Harry was faintly surprised to see the forest setting that it had been the year before. Harry took a seat against one of the trees and looked around. Their new teacher hadn't arrived yet.
"Do you think Firenze will be the teacher?" Harry asked.
"He can't. Centaurs aren't allowed to do magic," Hermione said.
The rest of the Gryffindors arrived early too. They were all sitting and chatting when the teacher arrived. It was Firenze.
"Good afternoon," he said, "And welcome to the Pure Arts. I believe you all know me from last year's Divination class. This year I shall be teaching the Pure Arts to all of you. For those of you who do not know, the Pure Arts is the ability to do magic without use of wand. Now, before I begin. Do any of you have any questions?"
Seamus Finnigan's hand shot into the air, "I thought Centaurs aren't allowed the use of magic?"
"The law you are speaking of does not grant us permission to own or use a wand. There are no laws prohibiting the use of magic," he said, "Anything else?"
When no one raised their hands, he began again, "I doubt any of you will be able to accomplish much today. Pure Arts is a very difficult study. It will take much practice. Each of you take out a piece of parchment and set it before you. The Pure Arts feeds off your emotions. I'm sure that when you were younger and you got very angry, scared, or happy, you noticed that something odd would happen. Perhaps a breaking toy or a flying pet."
"The blowing up of an aunt..." Ron snickered and Harry grinned.
"Today," Firenze continued, "We will be using anger as a source of power. I want you to concentrate on something that makes you very angry. Then focus on the task at hand, which will be ripping the parchment in front of you without touching it or using your wand. Begin."
Harry looked down at the piece of parchment in front of him. He imagined it being ripped right along the middle. He remembered back to when he had blown up his aunt. He had been pretty angry then. If only he had this class after Potions. He would have caused the paper to rip into tiny shreds. He focused on Snape's pallid face and then on the paper. Nothing happened. Firenze walked around the class, giving help.
"This is hard," Hermione sighed as he approached them.
"Miss Granger, what is something that makes you very angry?" Firenze asked.
"Er-- well, the way people treat house elves, like they are slaves," Hermione said.
Firenze stared down at her intently for a few seconds and then said, "Do you have one particular incident you can focus on?"
"Yes. Mr. Crouch fired his house elf, Winky, at the World Cup two years ago. He was really cruel to her," Hermione said.
"Focus on this until you can feel your self become angry. Then look at the parchment and imagine it being torn," he said, "All of you, do the same with your own memory of something that made you angry."
Hermione closed her eyes as she focused and then opened them, looking at the paper. It crumpled a little bit.
"That is a start. Very good, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor," Firenze said, "All of you try. Five points to everyone who can damage the paper in some way and ten if it rips completely."
Harry focused again on Snape and not his class that morning but the occlumency lessons. How Snape had broken into his mind on countless occasions. How he had weakened his mind, making it so Voldemort could get in as he believed. He opened his eyes, anger coursing through him. He focused it all on that paper and slowly it began to rip down the middle.
"Well done!" Firenze commended as he saw Harry's paper ripping itself.
Harry fell back against the tree. It was exhausting to do wandless magic. Though he also felt like he let go of some of that anger when doing it. At the end of class, Firenze congratulated them all.
"That was good work. Next lesson, we'll continue working on it, though trying a different emotion. Different emotions will work better for some people than for others. Once you all can rip a piece of parchment easily, we will move on to something more challenging. There will never be written homework in this class. I only ask that you practice a bit every day. You are dismissed."
He let them leave ten minutes before the bell rang, something Hogwarts teachers rarely if ever did. Harry went off by himself to the Charms corridor and waited outside Professor Flitwick's class for Whitley.
"Watch it, Potter," a Slytherin seventh year threatened as he came from Flitwick's class as the bell rang.
"Hi, Harry," Whitley said when she emerged, "You're here sooner than I expected."
"You planned on meeting him?" one of the girls scowled, "I always said there was something wrong with Teddy's sister."
"You didn't mention it when you stayed over Tara's with me last summer," Whitley said, "You all know Tara, don't you? Nice muggle born from Ravenclaw."
The girl turned a shade of red and stalked away. Whitley took Harry's arm and they walked away together.
"I need to drop my bag off, first," she said to Harry.
"Okay," he said. He tried to think of something to say and settled lamely on, "How was class?"
"Fine. Did you have Defense, yet?" she asked.
"No. I have it tomorrow," he said.
"Professor Green is a really good teacher. A bit strict, though," she said, "She mentioned a Defense club this year at Hogwarts. The DA. I want to join. I think it would be cool, don't you?"
"I'm already kind of a member," he said.
"You are? But she said that it doesn't start for a few weeks, yet," Whitley said.
"It started last year when we had Umbridge. I led it. It was kind of a secret club. This year we're allowed, though," Harry explained.
"So you're the leader of the club?" she said, impressed.
"I still have to talk to Dumbledore about it. Decide days and stuff," he said, "So you want to join?"
"Yeah, it would be good to learn this stuff," she said as they reached the Dungeons, "I'll be right back."
Harry waited for her outside the entrance and she returned a few minutes later. Harry enjoyed every minute spent with her. He ignored the catcalls coming from a few Slytherins and the looks from others as did Whitley. He sat down with his friends at the Gryffindor table, helping himself to chicken and potatoes.
His mood was the complete opposite of what it had been in the morning, and it didn't even change in the slightest when he made his way to Dumbledore's office for his Occlumency lessons.