A/N: kateydidnt, you're very right about those Thestrals… ::innocent eyes::
Chapter 5- Do The Right Thing
"He seems incredibly intelligent," Hermione noted a bit later about Mark, who was going on about how he had read almost all of their texts to the other first years. Ron rolled his eyes, and gave a dramatic sigh, "now you'll have a friend over the summer."
"The second I'm seventeen the Dursleys are kicking me to the street—they're probably already counting the days, hours."
"What are you going to do about that?" Hermione asked, looking concerned.
"He's going to rent a flat with me, that's what," Ron answered, sending Harry a wink. "We'll have all the hard stuff out of the way by then, no worries."
"Except for that one tiny thing called Voldemort, yeah?" Harry responded dryly.
"Voldemort is not going to stop us from being the swankiest bachelors in England," Ron said, looking smug. Harry and Hermione looked amazed though, and Ron looked back and forth between the two, "Er…what?"
"You said his name," Hermione whispered, "you said Voldemort!"
Ron cringed, hissing,
"Would you stop that? You know I can't stop flinching!"
"What? You just said it!" Harry said with a laugh. Ron turned to him, his eyes narrowed,
"Potter, don't joke with me, I did not just say…that."
Harry and Hermione stared at him for a few more moments, realizing that Ron truly believed that he did not slip Voldemort into their everyday conversation. How could he not have heard himself say something that had such an impact on his life? If Ron Weasley could get over his fear of saying Voldemort's name, then maybe his fears on the other aspects of his life would disintegrate as well.
"First years, this way!" Ginny Weasley shouted, indicating to the trio that they had missed the commencement of the feast. Mark waved a happy goodbye to Harry and rushed off to meet Ginny and Colin Creevey, the two fifth year Gryffindor Prefects.
"Honestly Ron," Hermione said as they made their way out of the hall, "how could you possibly not remember something of such significance?"
Harry saw his friend's fists clench, and he wondered if this would be the first Ron versus Hermione of the year,
"I can't remember it because I didn't do it, Hermione." Ron's voice was oddly calm, though a bit strained. "If I had done it, then I would remember it, but I didn't, so I don't."
"We have witnesses, I don't see why you're denying it---it's good that you did it."
"Well since I can't bloody well remember doing it, I guess it doesn't help me at all." They were at the back of the group of Gryffindors trying to get into the dorms. He turned to her sharply, "Could you just drop it?"
Harry could tell that Hermione was dying to continue, it seemed that Ron saying 'Voldemort' was very important to her, but she remained calm as the password was said, ("Spider legs!").
Ron brushed by a few people to enter, leaving Harry and Hermione behind.
"You know," Hermione whispered because Ron was still in ear-shot, "he forgot about the compartments we had to patrol, even after the Head Boy went over it about twenty times."
"He's been doing that a lot," Harry responded, spotting Ron on the chair nearest the fire looking pensive. "Do you think…?"
"The brain?" she finished, "definitely."
"Not tonight, though?" Harry bit his lip, hoping Hermione wasn't planning on attacking Ron on their first day back. She frowned, as if he had stopped her from asking him if he wanted to do it right now just a second before she suggested it.
"No, not tonight. But soon."
The next day was refreshing; everyone was in high spirits to start off the year, and Harry was happy to find that with his lack of Divination (though Hermione had scolded him for this, because now they knew prophecies were real), he had free time that could be spent…doing something other than being in class.
Ron had followed his suit and dropped Divination, because of his poor grades, and he had to drop Potions, though he wasn't exactly heartbroken about it.
"You do realize that you need Potions to be an Auror?" Hermione said as she buttered some toast. Ron shrugged casually,
"Then I guess I won't be an Auror."
"What do you plan on doing then?" Harry asked, wondering why he had never asked this before. Again, Ron shrugged,
"I can do plenty of stuff—look at Bill and Charlie, they're not an Auror or in the Ministry."
Hermione nodded in agreement, though she was still obviously miffed at how Ron just didn't care about the lack of classes on his schedule. He seemed rather thrilled, actually.
"If only they had gotten a decent Defense professor," he muttered as they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, "then my schedule would be perfect."
Percy was behind his desk, pacing back and forth and checking the board behind him for any mistakes literally every five seconds. His robes were crisp and his hair was impeccably neat—Harry wondered briefly if he used the same thing Hermione had for the Yule Ball. The board said something about wandless magic, and Harry figured he'd do pretty well this year.
Against Hermione's protests, Ron and Harry both took a seat in the back of the room. Hermione huffed and sat a few rows in front of them, but obviously not trying to be in Percy's line of sight.
When the class was settled (Harry noticed that all of his fellow Gryffindors had continued to take Defense), Percy cleared his throat, standing in front of his desk looking extremely nervous.
"G-good morning class, I'm Professor Weasley, and today we're going to discuss wandless magic. D-does anyone know the theory of wandless magic?"
Of course Hermione's hand shot up, this class of Gryffindors had given up trying to answer questions long ago, around first year. Percy bristled slightly at the lack of volunteers, and he finally pointed towards Hermione, after an obvious internal debate.
"Wandless magic has everything to do with emotion, and the power of the wizard. If the wizard desperately needs or wants to perform the magic, or they are concentrating all of their energy on it, they will use wandless magic. Magic doesn't come out of the wand, it is merely channeled through it, so it is stronger."
Harry smirked at Percy's amazement at her answer, and then frowned when he continued the class without rewarding Hermione any points.
"Correct, now, I have split the two terms up into four quarters, and each of the quarters will be focusing on a certain type of wandless magic. You will notice that a lot of the things we will be working on are Charms that you have already learned—since this is a N.E.W.T. level class, we are going to tone up your procedure and relate them to…the real world.
"You should listen to all your professors, Ron," Hermione scolded. "I think he did a good job today, though you could tell that he was extremely nervous."
"He went to school with us, his brother and two best friends are in the class, plus everyone remembers him as the scarily uptight Head Boy," Harry said as he and Hermione left Ron to go down to Potions, "anyone in their right mind would be nervous. At least he agreed about the D.A."
"Why do you suppose he took the job? Its not like Percy had ever focused on Defense before?" she asked, taking their normal seat in the Potions room. It seemed so much emptier now that Ron and half of their normal class weren't there. Dean Thomas had successfully made it, and so had Parvati Patil, much to Hermione's surprise.
"No idea, maybe the battle at the Ministry last year spooked him, and he's trying to learn a few things himself."
For six years the Gryffindors had been paired with the Slytherins for Potions, but now that it was a N.E.W.T. level class, the amount of students from all the Houses who had successfully managed to get in was just the amount of one class size. It was a refreshing change to see Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs than just the irritating green of the Slytherins.
But of course, there were a few Slytherins, and that included Draco Malfoy. He made sure to walk right in front of Harry and Hermione's desk, and he attempted to knock over her cauldron, but she was able to catch it with her hands and a proud smirk.
The only other Slytherins were Blaise Zabini (the boy that had taken Malfoy's Prefect Badge), and Theodore Nott. Nott decided to be funny, or at least, that's what Harry thought, and sat in what would've been Ron's seat, on the other side of Hermione.
She sent Harry a look of shock and confusion, but he just worded 'Relax' as Snape seemed to appear from nowhere, the door slamming shut.
"Miss. Patil," Snape said, turning his eyes on the Gryffindor (her sister was also in the class, and she looked very relieved that Snape wasn't talking to her), "what's the key ingredient of the Draught of Living Death?"
Parvati had frozen the second her name had been called, but straightened her shoulders and looked quite brave,
"That would be asphodel, Professor."
"I mentioned that one time in the five years I've been teaching you…good."
Parvati fell back into her chair looking immensely relieved, and Snape began his lesson, scaring the living daylights out of the sixth years with the consequences of brewing the potion wrong.
While they were copying down the ingredients ("CAREFULLY AND EXACTLY HOW I WROTE IT!"), Harry couldn't help but think of his last years' experience with Snape, during his Occlumency lessons. He knew that the Potions Master had been terrifyingly mad at him because of the peek into the Pensieve, but Harry knew now how much of a mistake that had been.
If he had gotten better at the trade, Voldemort might not have sent that faulty message about Sirius. His Godfather would still be alive, and he might have an idea of what his nemesis was up to. Harry decided, after finishing his list, that he was going to ask Snape to start up lessons again. Maybe if he told him how sorry and how dumb it had been, what a loss he had had, maybe then the Potions Master would reconsider.
The class went much faster now that Harry had something to look forward to at the end. They collected all of their ingredients and had to cut precise samples of each before they were able to move on, so it took quite a while just preparing the ingredients. Their next class in two days, Double Potions, would be when they made the Draught, and Snape said they wouldn't be able to make any mistake if they wanted to finish in time.
As the class filed out, Harry whispered to Hermione that he was going to stay behind, and she eyed him oddly before exiting the classroom, only to hover outside the door.
"What in Merlin's name do you want from me, Potter?" he snapped, a vein Harry had never noticed before popping out of his forehead. Either he was bringing up bad memories by his mere presence, or Snape was under a lot of stress.
"Er…I'd like to ask you about Occlumency," Harry said softly, knowing that it was a touchy subject. Snape's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward so his greasy hair fell in front of his face. He looked absolutely menacing.
"And why, Mister Potter, should I waste my time on a arrogant slice of dung like you?"
Harry felt the blood rush up all the way to his ears, but he knew that he really wanted this; he couldn't let the insults ruin his pathway to his goal.
"Professor, I know I made a mistake…"
"Mistake?" Snape barked, a very creepy smile spreading on his thin lips, "I'd call intruding on someone's deepest and darkest memories more than a mistake!"
"I know that, Professor, I know how wrong, and undignified, and…and…"
"Stupid?"
Harry frowned, but grit his teeth and nodded, "Yes, it was immensely stupid of me, Professor. That's why…that's why I've come to ask if we could start up lessons again."
Snape stood up to his full height, which wasn't that tall now that Harry thought about it. He was almost the same as Snape, which might help next time he felt intimidated by the Potions Master.
"I know that I completely lost your trust," Harry continued, before Snape could interrupt with a 'no', "I know now that I probably made the biggest mistake of my life by looking into your pensieve…Professor," he looked down at the table, thinking of the horrible image of his father he had seen in the silvery threads of the pensieve, "I lost a lot because of that one instance, I…I found out things that made me want to throw up, and I lost a talent that…that could've saved a very cherished life…" Harry paused, looking back up at Snape. It seemed as if he had caught his Professor's attention, "I'm literally begging you, Professor, please teach me how to use this power."
Snape took in a deep breath this his nose, sending Harry the wickedest glares right into his eyes. Harry knew that he was reading his mind, skimming through the memories, trying to find out if he really meant it. If Snape were a true Legilimens, he would be able to figure out that Harry was telling the truth.
The Potions Master looked away after a moment, snarling,
"You really cared about that flea-infested Godfather of yours, didn't you?" he said, not trying to hide the utter distaste in his mouth. Harry bit his tongue and nodded, hoping that his watering eyes weren't noticeable. Snape must have seen his memories and thoughts of Sirius. With a defeated sigh, Snape waved his hand away,
"Fine, same schedule as last year."
Harry couldn't help the grin that had slid onto his face,
"Oh, t-thank you, Professor, you won't regret it at all—"
"Just go, Potter, before you start blubbering."
He took that as a hint to leave so he did, feeling immensely grateful for thinking about the lessons. This could help him avoid any more unnecessary conflicts with Voldemort; this could stop the flashes he was so used to getting in his sleep…
"So, is it true that you and Weasley have been snogging since fourth year?" an unfamiliar voice said from down the hall. Harry snapped out of his thoughts and saw Hermione looking very uncomfortable under the shadow of Theodore Nott.
"Excuse me?" she said, looking at Harry with a 'Hurry up or I'm going to hex him until he's purple' look. Nott was staring at her quite intently, though, so he didn't notice Harry coming his way,
"Yeah, well, if you're ever looking for someone to share a broom closet with…"
"She won't be heading in your direction," Harry interrupted, pushing Hermione out of the way with a sickeningly fake smile towards Nott. The Slytherin glared and smirked viciously, but simply huffed and walked away.
"That was odd," Hermione said as they continued on their way towards the Great Hall for lunch, "he's never spoken to me before!"
"Maybe he's a bit slower than Ron and just realized you're a girl," Harry muttered, not at all liking the way Nott had been looking at her. Hermione flushed and whispered to him as they entered the Great Hall,
"Don't tell Ron about this, he'll get angry and do something stupid."
Harry agreed that Ron would probably not like to hear about a Slytherin hitting on Hermione, so it was better for everyone if they just kept it a secret.
"Alright, we won't tell Ron."
"Won't tell Ron what?"
They spotted Ron at the table and his eyes were perked with interest,
"Oh, just how much we missed you in Potions, Ron," Harry responded coolly, sliding in next to him. Hermione laughed and sat across the boys, but was expertly avoiding Ron's eyes. Their friend didn't seem to buy the whole charade, but he let it slide, pushing some parchment towards Harry,
Harry looked down at the parchment, his eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what all the symbols mean. He loved Quidditch, but he had never had the chance to follow it and to learn the lingo that most fanatics knew.
"Yeah, I figured you wouldn't know—being a Seeker and all," Ron began, and after Harry shot him a look, he put his hands up in defense, "Sorry, but really, how much do you watch the rest of the game?"
Harry grumbled that he tried to keep his eye on everything. Ron patted his back sympathetically,
"Right, now, this one's called a 'jagged arrow'…"
It took a few weeks to get back into the groove of classes, but once he did Harry found that it hadn't helped the melancholy feeling that always hovered not too far away. He had managed to put on a smile for Ron and Hermione, and a lot of the time it was real and they were helping him move on, but there were still moments when the memory of the prophecy flooded over anything he tried to think about, and he would sink deeper into the dark cave he had been digging over the summer.
"What I would give to be back at The Burrow…" he thought miserably as he trudged out to the Quidditch Pitch, ready for the tryouts.
Ron had come up with the brilliant idea of picking reserve players, to build up the team for when they leave. He had pointed out that in three years more than half of the team would be gone (Andrew Kirke was in seventh year), so they should try their best to keep the legacy of Gryffindor alive.
He was amazingly surprised at the turnout for the tryouts, there had to be over thirty Gryffindors present, and he voiced this to Ron, who was looking giddy,
"Yeah, well, we've been on a hot streak, of course they want to play for a winning team!"
Harry had muttered a disgruntled agreement, but he hoped that the students trying out weren't just doing it for the glory. He planned to work them hard, especially since he had lost out two years of his Quidditch career.
The returning players, Ron, Ginny, Katie Bell, Jack Sloper, and Andrew Kirke all lined up with Harry, looking at the crowd of students with apprehensive eyes.
"D'you suppose they all know how to play Quidditch?" Jack asked, looking at a fellow fourth year with suspicion.
"No, but they all came out here and we're going to give them a shot," Harry said, taking a step forward, "Alright, Chasers go with Ginny and Katie," he pointed towards the left side of the pitch where the two girls were heading, "Beaters to the right," Jack and Andrew were able to figure out on their own that they were to lead the prospective reserve players,
"Keepers down at the far end, and Seekers, you stay with me."
He noticed that the Creevey brothers had joined the Beaters and Dean Thomas was walking alongside Ginny with the Chasers. Harry hoped that Dean didn't think he automatically had a spot because of his girlfriend.
"Come on, let's get moving, don't want to make this a two day thing," Ron shouted at the ten or so students that wanted to be reserve Keepers.
When the groups were split, Harry was left with five students, three girls and two boys. He recognized one as Euan Abercrombie from last year, and he didn't look as terrified of Harry as he had last year.
"Right…so I guess I'm going to have to see how you fly. Are…are there any questions?"
They all looked rather young, so Harry figured that even if they did have questions, none of them would dare ask in risk of looking silly.
"Well, alright then—let's fly."
After an hour or two of flying, and after Harry observed each of the four groups, he blew his whistle and dismissed all of the people trying out. Flying had been a nice relief, but his mind was recording every move and mistake he saw, so it wasn't as relaxing as Harry normally found it,
"So? What's the verdict?" Harry plopped down onto the field. It was a good thing they decided to hold the tryouts early in the day—they would be able to announce the new team before curfew.
"Honestly?" Jack said, pulling out some grass, "I'd go with the Creevey brothers."
"Yeah," Andrew took over, "Colin's got an arm, and with me leaving this year, he'll definitely be worth it."
"Who would have thought it…?" Harry muttered, writing down the names of the brothers on the Reserve list. Maybe the tradition of having brothers play Beaters was something to continue.
"Emma Sliver for Keeper," Ron said, looking very sure of himself, "She's quick and aggressive—third year."
"How about the Chasers?" Harry looked at the girls and noticed that they both looked torn, at least, Ginny did.
"Corona Moon for starter," Katie said, "then we've got Robin Poll, Morgan Banner and…" Katie looked at Ginny, who shook her head, "Jake Lee."
Harry saw Ron's eyes widen, but he looked more impressed then shocked. He supposed that Ginny was having a rough time not picking her boyfriend, but it proved that she was thinking of the team.
"With Madison Legends as Seeker, that does it," Harry said, standing up, "let's go put up the list."
The team agreed and walked towards the locker rooms to change, but Ginny was lagging behind, noticeably upset. Feeling bad for the tough decision she had to make, Harry slowed down to meet her, giving her a supportive grin,
"You can tell him that I made the final call, if you want?" he said, fully ready to take the blame. Ginny shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek,
"No, he has absolutely no balance on the broom, Harry, I really couldn't have done it—"
Harry stopped her, putting his hands on her shoulders. She looked very upset and refused to look him in the eye, Harry didn't like how nervous she was. Her breathing was rapid, and he hoped that Dean didn't react to badly about the decision,
"If that's how you feel, then it's fine." He smiled, showing her that she had the rest of the team behind her decision, "You did the right thing, Ginny—you're looking after your team, and if he can't understand that, then…well, maybe he didn't belong on the team anyway."
She looked up at him then, clearly distraught. Harry shrugged his shoulders, but he didn't budge until Ginny nodded in agreement, pulling away to go and change. Harry followed slowly, hoping that the list in his pocket didn't cause too much damage.
