Shahrezad – (pursing lips and raising one eyebrow) SURE you never thought something like that. Well, if you say so… (grin) Anywhoo. Time to get this story moving, right? Damn, that means having a plot… better get cracking on that!
MetroDweller – Oh, never fear. Harry'll meet that Bat-Bogey hex. After all, he IS a boy, and all boys eventually do something hex-worthy. Heh heh.
Maria, Child-of-Scorpio & Sakura Sayoran – (bowing) Thank you for your kind words! I appreciate the encouragement, it inspires me to get off my duff and come up with a next chapter. Lol.
Obsessed87 – Only the prologue was year 6, the rest is year 7. I know I made that confusing… and thanks for the offer of a beta, but I'm good. (blowing kisses)
Author's Note: Severus Snape is referred to as 'Snape', his wife as 'Professor Snape'. Unless I used first names, of course.
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Chapter 4
Harry eyed the doorway with great anxiety. "I can't bloody well believe we're doing this."
Ron was looking a little pale himself, standing next to him. "I know. Voluntarily walking back into a room with the Old Bat."
Harry turned his head and looked at his best mate. Solemnly he held out his hand. "Ron, I just want to say, before we go in there and meet our doom, it's been a pleasure traipsing these halls with you."
Ron was equally somber as he shook Harry's hand. "Same here. I only wish it could have lasted longer."
"Oh, for Merlin's sake," came a disgusted voice behind them. "Get over your selves and get out of the way." Harry and Ron looked at each other and rolled their eyes as Malfoy pushed by.
"Bloody git, he doesn't have to worry about being 'accidentally' poisoned," Ron muttered.
"Really, Ron, you don't either," came Hermione's crisp voice behind them. Yikes, she was sounding a bit too much like McGonagall these days, Harry thought, jumping. "Professor Snape is an excellent teacher, and really, brilliant at Potions. Did you honestly think he wouldn't keep the NEWTS class himself?"
"No, but I could hope," Ron grumbled. Hermione heaved a sigh and grabbed each of them by the sleeve and started tugging. "Oi, careful there! Don't want to start off the morning with some nasty bruises," Ron protested anxiously as she was a little careless in her steering and the two of them came rather close to the stone walls.
They made it inside and found it was going to be a small class. A very small class, Harry thought, looking around. Malfoy had ensconced himself at a table in the back corner, looking serene and not like he wanted any company. Not that Harry would have given him any. Bloody git, he didn't like him. Not at all.
Hannah Abbott and Peter Barrow from Hufflepuff were over on the right hand side, sharing a table and murmuring nervously. He recognized Padma Patil from Ravenclaw, and two of her friends, Clarisse and Meg, he thought their names were. He, Ron and Hermione were the only ones stupid enough from Gryffindor to try and take this damn class. Harry heaved a sigh. Maybe he shouldn't have signed up, after all, chances were that he wouldn't live to be an auror anyway, really, he was just putting himself through a whole shitload of misery in the meantime for no good reason…
Just then Snape's office door opened and the Potion Master himself stepped through. Harry snapped out of it, and quickly deposited himself behind the nearest table. Which, he saw with dismay, was next to Draco and on the other side of Hermione. Crap. He had a feeling he was going to need Hermione's help to make it through this year…
"So this is my NEWTS level class," Snape said in a silky voice. His eyes flicked to each of them. "Abbott. Barrow. Patil." All three were treated to derisive glances. "Your grades were barely adequate for this class. You will have to do far better to remain in it." He turned to the other two Ravenclaws. "Compton and Fisher. You were borderline average. I will accept nothing less than excellence from students who wish to remain in my class."
He turned next to Draco. "Mr. Malfoy. You have the skill, but I will not allow you to get overly cocky. All it takes is a few mistakes." His gaze darted to the other side of the room. "You as well, Miss Granger."
Harry waited as Snape then turned his attention to Ron and himself. "And last but certainly never least, Potter and his faithful sidekick Weasley. I don't know what demon possessed you to attempt this course, but rest assured, you will not be able to skate on the skills of Granger alone." Snape's eyes were hard and boring into Harry. He stared right back. The old bat didn't scare him anymore. No, not when he had bigger things to be scared about. "You will be all alone," the Potion Master said, a bit mockingly.
Just then, there was a bang as the classroom door flew open, and in came Professor Stone – no, Professor Snape, Harry corrected himself, unable to keep his lips from twitching. "Ah, then, sorry it took me so long," she exclaimed, starting to limp over to where the two desks sat at the front of the room. "I meant to be here for your welcoming speech, Severus, but Minerva insisted on having me examine this bizarre little essay one of the second year Hufflepuffs wrote on cats and marshmallows…"
Glancing at Ron, Harry saw that his friend, too, was trying to swallow his smile. Even Snape, nasty and snarky as he was, was rolling his eyes and fighting a smile. "Sonora," he cut her off. "Please. Spare the details." He inclined his head toward the class. "I am in the middle of something."
She settled herself down behind her desk and waved a hand cheerfully. "Oh, sorry, do go on, I'll just sit her and watch."
Snape scowled at his wife. It was funny to think that, his wife, silently smirked Harry. "Don't you have papers to mark?"
She kept smiling at him, and it was starting to look a bit suspicious to Harry. It was almost as if Professor Snape intended to sit and watch while Snape… Harry started to grin. He knew he liked her, yes indeed. He'd like to see Snape hand out cruel and unusual punishments when his wife was watching.
And apparently Snape had the same though, because he was looking cross and seriously disappointed. Poor fellow, he hasn't gotten to bait me for a couple of years now, Harry thought, still grinning. And now he still can't, or the wife will get him.
The Potion Master turned back to the class and in a rather disgruntled tone, proceeded to lay out the rules and course expectations for the coming year. They'd be doing some dandy potions, some really hard ones that frankly Harry wasn't completely sure were legal. Malfoy next to him was looking like Christmas had come early. They had to do them completely on their own, too. No partners. That didn't bother him so much, after all, he'd gotten stuck with Draco for two years.
"You will begin today on brewing the Wolfsbane Potion," Snape announced. "It will be a process of several weeks to complete, and it will be tested by a werewolf for accuracy." Snape's eyes gleamed at that, and he sent a smirk Harry's way. Harry stilled. Bloody hell, Lupin was going to get student potions? Well, if he'd wanted an incentive to study Potions, he'd gotten one, he thought grimly. And Ron damn well would, too.
As they fell into line to collect ingredients, Harry found himself standing in front of Malfoy. "Welcome back to the big time, Potter," the Slytherin said coolly. "Think you can make it all on your own?"
Harry glanced over his shoulder, amused despite himself. "Malfoy," he drawled, "you have no idea."
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Ginny studied her wand carefully. It was a swish-swish followed by a downward flick, she reminded herself. And bloody hell, her brothers had shown her the charm three years ago. She should be able to get this one on the first try.
She pointed, aimed and swished. "Indoctorine facadius!" And then grinned as Cara's familiar face in front of her shimmered and then shifted to look like that famous muggle singer she'd seen in one of her dormmate's magazines. "Hey, Brittany!" she giggled.
Cara held up her hands, scrutinizing them. "What the…" Her jaw dropped. "Oh no you did not," she exclaimed, frantically pulling her hair over one shoulder. "You bloody bi-witch! I'm BLONDE!"
Ginny chortled again. "Draco'll love it," she said.
"Not blonde, anything but blonde, come on, be a friend," Cara moaned. "Pleeeease…"
"Oh, well done, Miss Weasley," jumped in the voice of Professor Flitwick. "Look here, everyone, Miss Weasley has done it on the first try." Their tiny professor circled Cara, who was looking like she'd either hex or throttle Ginny any moment, if only she could decide which one. "Marvelous work, really, quite good. Even the fingernails…"
Ginny just crossed her arms and smirked as Cara was forced to submit to Flitwick's oooing and aahing. Finally the little professor darted off to see to the small bang Colin had just caused on the other side of the room, and Cara glowered at her.
"You do realize, I'm going to get you for this," her friend informed her.
Ginny examined her nails. "Oh really?"
Cara lifted her wand and grinned, looking truly evil, particularly since she was a dead ringer for that over-endowed muggle star. "Because I haven't practiced nearly as much as you have, darling," she said sweetly. "And I rather had Little Orphan Annie in mind."
"Who…" was all Ginny had time for, before Cara had leveled her wand.
"Indoctorine facadius," said Evil-Looking Brittany with a smirk.
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Harry plopped down at the Gryffindor table, feeling totally wiped out. "Ye gods, I'm going to die," he muttered. "Snape's going to find a way to kill me."
Ron patted him on the back, looking comparatively cheerful. "Buck up, mate, it's not like he'll do it when we're all around as witnesses." His redheaded friend lowered his voice. "But be careful about being around at night alone…" Harry gave him a sharp elbow in the ribs, cutting off the blather.
Hermione was rolling her eyes. Again. She did that a lot, Harry thought. "Oh, come on, Harry, he was much easier on you than he has been in the past. Why, you only lost ten points today!"
Harry groaned. "For dropping my spoon on the table!"
"You're endangering your classmates with such violent behavior, Potter," Ron mimicked, grinning, mouth full of ham sandwich. "Hey, better you than me. Maybe this working alone thing is gonna be good after all."
Just then, someone dropped down into the seat next to Hermione, looking extremely cross. "I'm going to kill Cara," that person announced in a familiar tone.
Ron's jaw dropped, showing a rather disgusting array of partially chewed food. "Uh, Ginny?"
"Oh, brilliant deduction, Sherlock," the girl/person retorted. "What was your first clue?"
Harry stared too. Holy hell. He didn't know what they'd been doing in that class, but Ginny's face was currently rearranged as if someone hadn't managed to get all the pieces back in the right order. Was that her ear on the back of her head?
Hermione was gaping. "Cara did that? Did she practice the charm at all?"
Ginny-Person snorted, out of her chin, no less, and reached for a sandwich with liver spotted hands. "Bloody little twit was getting me back for making her blonde. She gets to be a supermodel, and I end up a sideshow act! And it'll take the rest of the day to wear off!"
Ron's head shot up with great interest. "So where is Cara," he asked.
Harry spotted a stacked blonde cozying up to Draco over at the Slytherin table and nudged his friend appreciatively. "I'd say that was her with Malfoy."
Ron let out a whistle. "Wow," he said, admiring. Hermione scowled. Ron didn't notice. "Yeah, I'd say that's not a fair turnaround, Gin. Ahh, you wouldn't mind getting Cara to take a few pictures while she's like that, would you? Just for putting up in the common room, so people could have something to practice at."
"Practice what," Harry mumbled under his breath, smirking, and was treated to death glares by both girls. Well, at least he thought it was a glare from Ginny.
"I can't go to class like this," Ginny moaned, dropping her face into her hands. She nearly looked normal that way. "I'm going to the Hospital Wing and hiding. There's no way Pomphrey would send me back to class."
Hermione rubbed her back soothingly. "Of course not. I'll tell Cara to get your assignments, after all, she's the one who landed you in this pickle. Ron. RON!" she snapped at the still ogling Head Boy. "Get your mind out of the gutter, and take your sister to the Hospital Wing."
"It wasn't in the gutter, I was just admiring what a fine job Ginny did," Ron protested, ears pink. "Right, Harry?"
Harry coughed. "Sure," he said. Hermione still glared. Was Ron in for it later, he thought with a grin. Big clueless git. Maybe it would drive Hermione to do something rash and get some of those pesky feelings out in the open. Although that would mean he'd loose the bet, and that would be a sad loss of two Galleons…
As his friends all started to depart, Ron and Ginny to the Hospital Wing, Hermione heading for the Slytherin table where Cara/Blondie was currently being gawked at by most of the school, Harry reached for another sandwich. Ham was quite a nice filler, he was thinking as he picked one up.
And then a scene exploded through his head in rapid fire succession. The forest. Night. Wolves howling. The chill of Dementors. The smell of blood, fresh blood. And those damn red eyes boring into him.
And then he snapped back out of it. He was in the Great Hall, a sandwich crushed to a gooey pulp in his hand, his breath ragged. Dammit all.
Carefully he set the sandwich down. It fit with the others. More of the what, he thought, trying desperately to separate himself from the violent emotion of the vision, but still not the when. He needed the when. When would Voldemort attack?
He wiped his hands on a napkin and carefully, deliberately left the Great Hall. He had Astronomy to get to, and Merlin knew Hermione would scold if he were late.