Rated R for swearing, violence, and suicide (and/or suicide-related issues). If this offends anyone, don't read. Thought I'd add that I own nadda. All characters, names and related indicia are property of J.K. Rowling. I am merely trying to share some of her goodness in a non-illegal way. :)

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Chapter 7: The Good and the Bad

"Harry? Harry? Hullo?"

A hand was moving back and forth in front of his face.

Harry jumped slightly and looked around. Ron and Hermione were watching him.

"Oh! Sorry..."

Ron shoveled a spoonful of cornflakes into his mouth and chewed. "Didn't you get back to sleep last night after that nightmare? You look exhausted."

"I am exhausted," Harry told Ron, yawning. "I...er...I did get back to sleep, actually...I just stayed up a little while and...thought..." Harry inwardly smiled. He felt great today. The difference between his mood right now and the mood he'd been in the night before was vast. And he loved it.

Ginny Weasley sat herself down beside Harry, her red hair bouncing. "Morning, all. This weekend will be welcomed with open arms." She poured herself some coffee.

"I know," Hermione replied over her goblet of pumpkin juice. "It'll give me some time to get around to that Transfiguration essay we were assigned on Tuesday."

Ron rolled his eyes just as the owls began swooping into the Great Hall. Ginny gave a small gasp as a large tawny bird flew down in front of her with Hermione's copy of The Daily Prophet clutched in its beak, narrowly missing landing in her mug. Hermione pushed a knut into its pouch.

"Hey! We've got Lupin today, eh?" Ron said, his eyes brightening. "Finally, I won't have to do nothing but read for an hour and a half! No more, 'There will be no need to talk!'"

"No more hem hem," Ginny giggled. "And no more Decree from the High Inquisitor bullshit."

"I'll never forget the look on that old toad's face when you told her you'd already read the book, Hermione," Ron said, grinning. "That was priceless..."

Everyone began chatting and laughing, but Harry was far away from them all. He was busy looking over Hermione's shoulder at the Slytherin table, who were all smiling and waving at him as though he was an old friend of theirs. And then there was Draco, sitting in the middle of the group, waving away with the rest of them and laughing. Harry shot them all a filthy look and returned to staring at his clasped hands as Pansy's ear- splitting guffaw filled the room.

Something was up. Harry knew he was probably a sight for sore eyes, but that was no reason to start waving at someone. Were they planning something? No, Draco wouldn't do anything to jeopardize his place on the Slytherin Quidditch team...but...

Harry's insides clenched and he suddenly went cold, like someone had poured a bucket of frigid water down his back. He carefully folded his arms in his lap and sighed. His morning had actually been good until the Slytherins had started acting weird like that.

Forget it, it's nothing...they're probably just trying to get me going.

"Hey Harry," Ron said. His bowl was cleaned out and Hermione had already stood up.

"Hmmm?"

"We're going to go early to DADA...maybe we can talk to Lupin before class?"

Harry grinned. "Sure."

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Harry, Ron and Hermione weren't the first people to enter Defense Against the Dark Arts, however. Almost three-quarters of the class were already assembled, and were eagerly chatting; their books and wands at the ready.

Hermione smiled excitedly and practically dragged the two boys to their table at the front, earning a startled, "Oy!" from Ron.

Harry was rubbing the back of his neck as he sat down (Hermione's tugging had all but given him whiplash), and exchanged an exasperated glance with Ron. Hermione bobbed a few times in her chair.

"Oh, come off it!" she said in response to the two on either side of her. "It's Lupin! Do you two realize the things we'll be learning this year?"

Ron groaned. "I'd rather not think about it."

The classroom was bright and airy, due to the gentle breeze that was coming in through the open windows. The office door was closed; Harry assumed that Professor Lupin was in there doing some last minute preparations, and decided not to bother him. Harry grinned again. He couldn't help it. The atmosphere was just too...happy.

Hermione was muttering and pouring over her books and Ron was etching a Chudley Cannons logo into his desk with an old quill. Harry looked around the room for any signs of change, but the only difference was the boxes lining the sides of the walls, which were all covered in a thick violet fabric. Other than that, the place looked quite normal.

"What'd you say, Ron?"

Ron looked up from his artwork, confused. "What, mate?"

"You said something," Harry replied impatiently. "Just now. You muttered about the noise."

Ron looked at Harry like he was mad. "Not me, Harry, sorry...you must have overheard someone else."

Harry was so sure...it had been right beside him. An odd voice, but certainly not a girl's, so it couldn't have been Hermione, and Parvati and Lavender were sitting right behind him.

"Did you hear it, Hermione?"

"No," Hermione answered, not taking her eyes of her book.

"I heard a sort of hissing, though."

"Great," Ron said. "My mates are nutters."

"Shut up, Ron," Hermione said exasperatedly, jabbing her quill just past Harry, near the wall. "It came from over there."

Harry looked. There was no one. Nothing, except one of the boxes draped in fabric. Harry started at it, and then unmistakably heard it again.

"So very loud, isn't it? Don't the brats ever shut up?"

Harry crouched on the floor and moved over to the wall. Gingerly he plucked the fabric away, and discovered closely fit metal bars. And something bright orange and black.

"Who is it?"

Harry jumped at the harsh voice and scrambled backwards, letting the cloth fall again. A strangled chuckle and the voice once more.

"Come for a peek, I see?"

Harry got over the initial shock of what he saw and was just about to back for another look when he caught sight of a weather-beaten brown shoe. His gaze traveled up the patched pant-leg, up along the old and battered suit jacket, and into Lupin's smiling face.

"Professor!"

"Hello, Harry," Professor Lupin said amusedly, pulling the boy up off the floor by his upper arm and drawing him into a hug. "I see you've met my Runespoor."

"Your -- what?"

Lupin chuckled. "My Runespoor. A three-headed serpent that many dark wizards fancy as pets. Each of the heads has a different job. Apparently it was speaking about you...I wouldn't know, I'm not the Parselmouth, but you caused it a great deal of hissing."

He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder and grinned before walking to the front of the room to a multitude of applause.

"Good morning, all!" the wizard said, beaming, raising his arms into the air as the students clapped and cheered loudly. "Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts!"

"Hear, hear!" Dean Thomas yelled.

"From what I was told," Lupin went on, leaning casually against the desk at the front. "You lot didn't learn much useful information last year, except for a select few, I daresay?"

The class broke into a storm about Umbridge, but the DA members present in the class exchanged significant glances.

"Yes, I was informed of the previous teacher who covered this subject," he said loudly, pacing the front of the room. "Also, of what the teacher attempted to do...and I must say I find this alarming."

The class went very quiet. Lupin stood still and surveyed them all seriously. "I must say, we won't be getting to anything really...fun...for quite some time. I have reasons for this, as does Headmaster Dumbledore. You lot had absolutely no training last year, again except for a select few, against anything a Dark Wizard could try to do to you using a wand. This, of course, means curses."

The man sat himself down on the top of the desk. He looked sadly at them all. "Last June showed me how very real our situation is. As you all know, the Dark Lord has returned to full power. Last year, while you could have been educated properly to help yourselves in the event of an emergency, you spent it reading useless books." He clapped his hands. "Now. What we are all going to tackle this year, for the most part, is the study of dueling."

Harry was staring at his table as though fascinated. Please stop it.

The class looked at one another nervously.

"No worries," Lupin said. "This won't be a repeat of the club you lot apparently had a few years ago, this will be as real as I can get it. Apart from any serious injuries. That is to say, wand backfiring, bad aim, etcetera."

For the rest of the period, Lupin had them all copy out diagrams and explained to them the theory of the duel. ("Of course, when you're actually doing it, the theory will matter very little, but it is still a fundamental part to learn.")

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At the end of the period, Ron flexed his fingers and stuffed his quill moodily into his pocket. "Could have been a little better, don't you think?"

"Oh, honestly," Hermione scolded. "You heard him! He knows what he's talking about, Ron. It's important. And I think that whatever we can learn about how to defend ourselves is pretty damn welcome at this point!"

"I wasn't saying that," Ron said, walking out of the classroom after her. Harry was about to follow, but felt a hand slightly clasp on his arm. Harry yelped in pain and jerked away, his eyes flashing furiously.

Lupin stood before him, looking at Harry strangely. "Why Harry...are you all right? What happened?"

Harry resisted the urge to hold his arm. "I'm...er, well, it's nothing. Nothing, I was just startled."

Lupin's dark eyes didn't leave Harry's. "You trouble me, Harry."

Harry scowled. "I trouble everyone. What else is new?"

"I...I just wanted to say hello," the man said quietly. Sadly. "It' really good to see you again, Harry. I missed you...I'm so sorry we couldn't get you to Grimmauld Place sooner, but certain circumstances..."

He trailed off, but Harry knew he meant Dumbledore.

"Yeah," Harry said angrily, his temper getting the better of him. "Well I was fine, Professor. Absolutely fine. My summer was a blast at the Dursley's. You should know, you got my letters, right?"

He turned on his heels and stormed out of the classroom, breathing heavily.

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Potions before lunch was absolutely horrible. Snape had assigned them all three feet of parchment on the Veritaserum potion, and had them all start brewing.

"This potion takes about a month to complete," he had sneered into the darkness as random crackles and pops emitted from the glowering fires beneath the simmering cauldrons. "So we'll be tied up for a very long period of time with this project. I expect no less than total concentration and the utmost behavior from you all, or I'll have you drink whatever poor samples you attempt to make; I really don't care what it does to you."

Harry had found it very hard to focus when the Slytherins spent the whole time sneaking in cheerful smiles and waves whenever Snape's back was turned. Twice he caught Crabbe and Malfoy doing it, but said nothing.

"Lousy git," Ron snarled once they had packed away their cauldrons in a spare room off the potions classroom. "I'll bet he's so pissed off because Lupin's back, eh? And they hate each other."

"Lupin doesn't hate Snape," Harry said quietly.

"Seems like it to me," Ron muttered. "Why, has Lupin been giving you some private talks, Harry? Keeping things from us, are you?"

"Oh stop it!" Hermione said. Her hair was as wild as ever. "God...Ron, you make me want to throw up!"

Harry fell back and let the two walk together. In a second he would have seized Ron's head and...he didn't want to think about it.

Lunch was waiting in the Great Hall, but Harry wasn't hungry. The prospect of his last detention with Snape did nothing to improve his mood...and the odd Slytherin who would walk by, waving and smiling, didn't cause him much joy, either.

He dreaded the night.

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His last detention with Snape was hardly as enjoyable as the one the previous night. Instead of having Harry clean cauldrons like he had been all week, Snape had simply stared at him at first.

"Anything wrong, Mr. Potter? You're looking a bit under the weather."

Harry had shrugged. "It happens, sir. Sometimes people get sick."

"I'm not in the mood," Snape had hissed. "I really have no clue what to do with you. I'd tell you to piss off if it wouldn't cause you so much joy. Instead..." He'd looked around the classroom. "You can sort out and re-organize my store cupboard."

And that's how it went.

Snape had noticed something, though. He knew the boy wasn't letting on to something, but he wasn't going to come right out and demand an answer. He had better things to do with his time than spend it with that bloody child.

Turns out, bloody was quite correct.

It was nearing ten o'clock and Snape had come out to inspect Harry's work. "Alphabetically! Wow, Potter. Your brain comprehended the task. I must say I'm impressed."

Harry had turned to leave. Snape had grabbed his arm and a bit of the boy's robe had fallen back. Harry had also yelled in pain.

Snape was spellbound. He stood there, looking at Harry, who's green eyes were wide with shock, fear, anger, pain...everything. He couldn't believe what he'd just seen.

"Mr. Potter, where are you going?"

The boy had bolted.

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Harry ran through the dungeons. He ran so fast he could hear the wind rushing in his ears. He could also hear footsteps behind him, which would surely be Professor Snape's. Harry sped on, blinded by his...his...his what? Embarassment?

Harry paused by a doorway. Listened. Nothing. He wiped his brow and sighed, leaning against the wall to rest a little. He didn't know what to do.

Snape knows. So he knows.

"Goddammit!" Harry kicked at the stone savagely and collapsed on the floor. He breathed angrily and wiped tears from his eyes. Snape would surely tell someone. And most likely it would be someone Harry didn't like. He didn't care! He opened his mouth and screamed. He screamed so loudly that the corridors rang with the noise. With his frustration. "Why is nothing normal?"

"I'll tell you why," came a sudden voice. Harry started and looked around wildly.

Draco Malfoy was standing in the middle of the hallway. "Because you did something to all of us, Potter. And when you do something like that to us, we will go to any lengths to retaliate."

Several Slytherins appeared at his side.

Harry stood up. Gripped his wand in his pocket.

"I told you you'd pay," Draco hissed. "Didn't I tell you?"

"You can't fight," Harry said, his voice shaking. "You'll - "

"I can't," Draco said smugly. "But they can. And they will."

He walked up to Harry then and pinned the boy against the wall. "And if you tell anyone who did this to you when they find you in the morning, if you so much as utter a word about us, we'll make sure the Mudblood gets it next. And she'll get it far worse than you."

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