Disclaimer: Nothing new in this matter... pity:(
Author note: Thanks for reviews, they mean a lot to me.
Author note 2: Edited thanks to Aln-Mai:)
Chapter 7
And so school began.
It was amazing how similar the first lessons in the year 1976 were to those twenty years later. Most of the teachers started with the boring talk about the necessity of hard work and difficulty of the N.E.W.T.s considering the meager two-year-long period they had to prepare for the examination. They didn't wait and started hurrying along with very advanced material. Even Hermione admitted that she hadn't expected the classes to be this demanding.
McGonagall immediately assigned their first essay, two rolls of parchment to be handed by their next lesson, which happened to be only one day later. Flitwick gave them long list of spells they should master by themselves, because there would be no time for that during class. Professor Kettleburn asked for the detailed description of their experiences with magical animals so far.
All the teachers seemed to share the belief that Harry, Ron and Hermione might have a lot of problems with adjusting and made some sort of test for the new students, refusing to rely on the O.W.L. results.
Potions class was the biggest shock. The teacher, Madame Arielle Dose, was an old, white-haired woman. She wore glasses with ridiculously thick lenses and had terrifyingly wrinkled hands. She was the only teacher who didn't welcome them with a long speech. In fact, apart from a short good morning, she didn't say anything at all. There were some instructions on the blackboard, but the students didn't get to work. They talked loudly and walked freely around the laboratory, while Madam Dose did nothing but bury herself in some papers, oblivious to everything going on around her.
Harry, Ron and Hermione weren't surprised when it turned out that apart from few overachievers, no one really bothered with the potion they were supposed to be brewing.
"You know what, Harry?" Ron said after a short contemplation of everything around them, "I think I can actually start liking this subject, don't you?"
Harry only laughed in response. Hermione looked irritated, though.
"We'll never learn anything this way," she fumed. "And don't forget that you both will have to excel in the subject later on."
"Don't worry—I bet that with the lessons like this, each of us knows Potions better then the rest of the class combined. That is—apart from Snape." They all looked at the Slytherin boy, who was in the middle of producing something in his cauldron. It certainly had nothing to do with the draught from the blackboard. He had a thick book open on the desk and flipped through it while adding some ingredients to his potion.
The mayhem continued throughout the whole lesson.
Finally, the long week was coming to an end. Harry was already tired and overworked, even though it was only the beginning. Almost every teacher gave them some research to do or an essay to prepare. He felt glad that he had Defense Against the Dark Arts for his last lesson; for him, it was as if the weekend started early.
Feeling relaxed, he sat up front with Lily on his left and Ron and Hermione right behind him. It became a pattern—Lily was very ambitious, just like Hermione, and wanted to have a place near to the teacher to make sure that she didn't miss anything important. Harry suspected that another reason was the fact that the Marauders happened to sit in the back during most of the classes, and Lily obviously wanted to avoid them.
Harry waited anxiously for the lesson to begin and listened half-heartedly to Alice, who stood next to their desk and gossiped about the DADA professor, Mr. Olaf Lindberg. He had already taught for two years and was both a skilled and a demanding teacher, a little bit similar to Professor McGonagall, although with a very sarcastic and sometimes vicious sense of humor. Before getting the job at Hogwarts, he had been an Auror in Norway for about twenty years, so he had a lot of practical experience.
Exactly one minute before the beginning, Mr. Lindberg entered the classroom. He was lean and tall, and had long, greyish hair tied at the back. There were some frown-marks on his forehead and he had a big, ugly scar—one end of it was visible on his left hand and disappeared into the sleeve of his robe. Without a single word to the students, he started to summon different objects and books, muttering some spells and waving his wand with ease and some laziness. His desk slowly filled with seemingly random stuff and he finished exactly at the moment when the bell rang. He didn't even need to quiet the class; everyone's attention was on him already.
"Welcome in the N.E.W.T.-level Defense Against the Dark Arts course. I want to warn you that we are going to proceed into an extremely dangerous and difficult branch of magic this year, so anyone—I repeat—anyone, who is not sure that he can handle a certain number of injuries should leave the classroom now."
He almost whispered, yet his voice was perfectly audible in deadly silent room. No one spoke, no one moved. Mr. Lindberg continued his speech.
"All of you here have received an outstanding grade on your O.W.L., but it doesn't mean that you are ready to deal with all the challenges awaiting you this year. Until now, you used to be the best and in some cases, you probably found my lessons too easy. This is going to change. Everybody will have to put a considerably larger amount of effort into this class. If you are not ready for that, you may leave now."
It seemed a little strange to Harry that the professor had mentioned resigning from his course twice in such a short speech. He sounded almost as if he wanted to scare people away. Harry wondered briefly if that wasn't mostly directed at him, Ron and Hermione. If Mr. Lindberg believed, as did some other teachers, that being home-tutored meant they were not capable to deal with the stress, then he certainly expected that they were even less prepared for injuries.
Professor Lindberg continued speaking for quite a long while. He told them exactly what they going to cover during the coming two years and then mentioned that students would have to participate in one large project every semester. The projects were supposed to be done in groups of three, which Professor Lindberg himself would oversee. After he finished explaining all the details about the way the project would be marked, he looked around the classroom silently and finally asked, "Any questions?"
No one spoke—he really made everything clear, so there was no need for any additional information.
"Very well. Before we proceed, there is one more thing which I believe that needs to be done. Please, could you all stand up and move away from your desks?" Everybody stood up and moved to the wall, obeying the teacher's order silently. As soon as they were finished, Professor Lindberg made a complicated gesture with his wand and all the furniture from the classroom disappeared. Harry heard Hermione whispering to Ron, "That was quite impressive."
"Miss Bradley, could I ask you to stop talking with your brother? I am aware that you aren't used to the discipline demanded in schools such as Hogwarts, but you should understand by now that you have to remain concentrated throughout the whole lesson. Conversations with other students do not help achieving that. Now—the other Mr. Bradley first, I suppose. Please, come and stand over there." He beckoned to Harry and pointed at the far end of the classroom.
Harry went there, wondering what was going on. Some if his anxiety was probably visible, as Professor Lindberg commented without the smile, "No need to be afraid. I need to assess your capabilities and therefore you are now going to take part in the wizarding duel. It would be the first duel in your life, wouldn't it?"
"Yes, sir," Harry replied without hesitation. Lying about his past was getting easier and easier every day.
"I need a volunteer to fight against Mr. Bradley." People started to whisper to each other, obviously as surprised by the unexpected situation as Harry was. Suddenly a voice was heard above the muttering.
"I can do it, sir." Harry turned his head to see the person whom he was going to face and when he did, he paled and blinked few times rapidly. He felt as if a big, heavy stone was lying on his chest. It was James Potter! How was he supposed to fight against his father?
James walked to the spot on the opposite end of the classroom—right where the teacher's desk had stood just a moment ago. He looked determined, and there was a fire in his eyes—was he trying to get revenge on Harry for what he believed to be the stealing of his girlfriend? Or was he simply preparing himself for the fight? Harry didn't know, but it didn't really matter to him. His legs were weak as if they were made of jelly, and his hands were sweating from the nervousness he felt. He couldn't do it! It was too much—meeting his own father when he was Harry's age was hard enough, but being forced to throw curses and hexes at him—he couldn't do it. The hateful glares that James threw at Harry didn't help.
Suddenly Harry realized that Professor Lindberg was talking again. He tried to focus on his words.
"...so I want you to pay close attention to the duel. I will ask you to point out Mr. Bradley's mistakes afterwards. We haven't done much dueling yet—think about it as about your first lesson on the subject. Mr. Bradley, James—are you ready?"
"Yes, sir!" James answered and took his wand out. Harry did the same and met James' eyes. The other boy sneered.
"Begin!"
"Aquatulum!" Harry moved only because of his instincts—he didn't even try to use magic to defend himself, to say nothing of striking back. He was not fast enough, though, and soon he was soaking wet, which revealed how thin he actually was under the layers of robes.
"Impedimenta!" James didn't wait and sent another curse in direction of his opponent. Harry summoned a protective shield, but James knew the countercurse and Harry was defenseless again.
James cast one spell after another, deliberately choosing the most humiliating and painful ones he could think of. Harry managed to avoid some of them, but others hit him with their full power. Soon his face was covered with large red spots, his glasses were broken and his left hand grew to an abnormal size. He hoped desperately that Professor Lindberg would end the duel, but the man seemed oblivious to the fact that Harry wasn't fighting at all.
James, on the other hand, was fully aware of this, and it further increased his anger.
"Fight, you coward!" he shouted. It wasn't satisfying at all, winning over someone like this. He felt disgusted with both himself and Harry. That was certainly not what he wanted. Finally he decided to finish it; there was no point in torturing the boy.
"Expelliarmus!" he said, not even bothering to do it loudly. Harry's wand flew into the air, and the boy smiled, obviously relieved, and collapsed to the floor a moment later.
James looked around. He hadn't noticed other people during the duel at all; he had concentrated only on the enemy. Now he could see the expressions of the other students. Sirius smirked, leaning against the wall, and Remus shook his head when he caught his eye. Lily looked disgusted and furious, holding Hermione's hand. Both Ron and Hermione were pale and boiling with anger.
"Thank you, James," Mr. Lindberg spoke. "That was too harsh, I guess, but it was a fine job nonetheless. Ennervate. Finite Incantatem." He cast the spells, pointing his wand at Harry, and soon, he regained consciousness. "Mr. Bradley, go to the hospital wing, please. Madame Pomfrey will know how to remove the effects of the curses you've suffered."
Harry got up, trying to fight the nausea. He noticed his wand and bent over to pick it up, but he stumbled and almost fell.
"Professor!" Lily cried. "He's not well enough to go there by himself. Let me walk him!"
James looked as if someone slapped him. Was she blind or something? This boy was a pathetic coward, why would she stick with him like that?
"You are right, Miss Evans, you had better go with him. You really were too harsh, James," Professor Lindberg said as Lily helped Harry up and they slowly left the room.
"Well, that was—disappointing. I am not sure whether I shall continue with the duels—perhaps I should simply not accept you into this class either." He looked at Ron and Hermione questioningly. "I wouldn't want to see something like that again any time soon."
"Professor—you shouldn't judge Harry by that..." Hermione started to reply, alarmed by the words not accept you EITHER.. Mr. Lindberg looked at the girl sharply.
"I don't think it's your decision, Miss Bradley. What I want to know is whether you want to follow in your brother's steps, or are you ready to take part in a duel?"
Hermione glared at the man and headed without comment to the back of the class, where Harry had stood before his duel.
"I see—Sirius, would you be so kind to partner this young lady?" The question was oddly formed and the mischievous Marauder replied instantly, with the same fake charming smile he had on at the welcome feast.
"Of course, Professor. I'd love to be her partner." A few people laughed.
"Try not to hurt her. I wouldn't want two students injured during one lesson."
Sirius stood at the opposite end of classroom. He looked very self-confident, with one hand on his hip. Hermione focused and tried to calm down.
"BEGIN!"
Hermione didn't wait with the attack. She used all her skills and easily blocked the first few hexes, not very dangerous ones. Her attack, an well-aimed Bat-Bogey Hex, reached the target. Sirius' smirk disappeared, but he removed the bat wings with a wave of his wand. Both of them thought exactly the same thing: That's not going to be easy.
Different spells flew between them with enormous speed. They attacked and blocked and dodged, getting more and more tired. Sirius, who seemed to enjoy himself during the first part of the duel, was slowly losing his patience. He tried more violent, stronger curses, but it didn't help. She countered them all! And not only that, she actually threw a few spells which he didn't recognize!
He had to do something different, original, unexpected—only what? Suddenly an idea, a stupid idea struck him.
They paused for a while, trying to catch a breath and eyeing each other warily. Sirius pretended to cough, while in fact he said an incantation. Hermione looked surprised for a while and suddenly burst into uncontrolled laughter. A tickling charm. Anything more powerful wouldn't work without a proper pronunciation.
He disarmed her and muttered Finite Incantatem as soon as her wand was safe in his hand. She looked at him, breathing heavily from the effort and, to his utter surprise, with her voice still a little bit shaky, she thanked him for an interesting fight.
He gaped at her throughout the rest of the lesson, not really paying attention to the third duel (Ron versus some Ravenclaw boy, won by Hermione's brother after about ten seconds). How could he have misjudged this girl so much? He was sure she was average (apart from her looks), easy-to-get and even-easier-to-dump girl, like most of the girls he met and dated. But there must be more to her, after seeing how she fought so well and spoke so nonchalantly after their duel—and he was going to make sure that he was the first guy to find out all the other intriguing talents and qualities she possessed.
