Okay, due to lack of reviewers. I'm changing the name to Harry Potter and the Cocaine Llama. I have so many cocaine references anyway I might as well. Surely you've found the true purpose of the Toker's-stash-hide plants? Which grow on any soul that cannabis is sprinkled upon. Can't win if no one reviews. That and why am I breaking my fingers to get out 21 pages if no one will even comment on them. Come on guys, a simple, cool, will suffice! Hello Richard! Blame him for the title he said it was funny.

To find my rival's story just look in my favorites. It is called At All Costs. Read MechaPanda's story so you can compare the two. Hers is funny!

-

Chapter Four

Harry Potter sat down for breakfast and his eyes flashed up to the staff table.

He had spent the entire night dreaming glorious dreams about the look that would appear on the potion master's face upon hearing that it was Harry who had been offered the task of subbing for the Dark Arts professor, instead of him. The Slytherin team was in a horrid mood and sat brooding at their table. They'd heard all they could stand to listen to on the subject of the Americans and any foreign student was fare game to a hex in their book. As the owls arrived Harry forced his eyes away from Severus and onto Hermione as she received her paper and began to read it cover-to-cover.

Neville let out a whimper upon receiving a letter from his Grandmother, who saw his weak potion's grade. Ron opened a box two owls had carried for him and let out a giggle that med Harry grin and Hermione call him cute.

"Shut up," Ron ordered them both. He took out a pot from the box, smiled, and handed it to Neville.

Ginny let out a squeal as a trio of owls set an oblong package in front of her before landing next to Sara and giving her a letter. She petted the owls lovingly and forfeited her porridge to them. Ginny looked to her with wide, shocked eyes.

"Open it," Sara prompted, nodding encouragingly.

Ginny took a deep breath and began ripping, tearing, shredding the paper off the box before mauling said box out of existence. She let out a delighted scream which caused a few heads to turn, before leaping forward and embracing Sara in a tight hug.

"Thank you!"

Sara laughed as Ginny grabbed the box and began dragging her out towards the Quidditch field. Chase, who was barely awake, stood up to follow them and was joined by Ron, Mike, and Katie. Harry was still waiting to see what Snape did when he found out the good news. Desdemona sprung up from her seat clutching something and ran for the exit. Today, however, the brooding Slytherin by the name of Malfoy, had other plans. He rammed his foot out into her path and she took did a floor face-plant. The red envelope escaped her groping fingers and sailed out of reach on its course for freedom.

Desdemona was on her hands and knees in the blink of an eye, but Malfoy knew a Howler when he saw one and leapt onto her, holding her back. All eyes watched the envelope bounce on its corner and proceed to pogo stick its way down the isle in annoyingly slow motion. Desdemona sucked in a gasp and held it as if her chest was the envelope and she could somehow force it to stay close.

However, hardly ever are things in life fair and the envelope exploded open in a cloud of haunting, billowing smoke. A shrill voice shrieked from the smoke in a rage of fury.

"MORE BAD MARKS!" The voice roared. "YOU PIECE OF FILTH! AFTER ALL I'VE DONE FOR YOU! YOU ARE THE DISGRACE OF THIS HOUSEHOLD AND AN EMBARASMENT TO ME! MARK MY WORDS YOU FILTH, SCUM, TRAITER OF THE VERY BLOOD IN YOUR VEINS, IF YOU CONTINUE TO RECEIVE GRADES LIKE THESE THEN DON'T BOTHER COMING HOME! YOU WON'T BE WELCOMED! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!"

In a cloud of poisonous green and black, the envelope burst into flames, which flashed a skull before disappearing. The entire hall was so quiet that the only sound was when a cricket chirped, and another cricket his it for making noise. Then, in a sickening wave of thick, inescapable mockery, the Slytherin erupted with laughter. Desdemona fought to get free, but Malfoy held her tight, not yet done with the torture.

The only relief to the poor girl was that not one other table laughed. In fact, even the Hufflepuff looked ready to attack Malfoy. It was sick what he had done. Before Harry even knew he'd moved, he found himself standing inches from Malfoy and within a second he's shoved the blond off Desdemona with enough force to slam the ferret into the Slytherin table. Desdemona shot to her feet and took off, with Neville yanking open the door for her to escape by.

"Detention, Potter," hissed Snape, suddenly a few feet from Harry.

"What!" Neville yelled.

"You're next, Longbottom," Snape warned.

Harry was too angry to speak, which was a good thing as he had a speech ready what would have shocked truckers and sailors and even construction workers. Neville yanked him out of the Great Hall and Ron and Hermione soon followed. There, of course, would be no punishment for the ferret. Instead the gang proceeded to whisper and murmur about that they'd like to do to him if they could just get him alone for five minutes.

"Y'know," said Ron. "We could trick him into going into the room or requirements and then lock him up and charge people two galleons for five minutes with a baseball bat."

"Only if we get to watch," Neville muttered.

The day was uneventful except when Tonks knocked over the cage of weasels they were supposed to be changing into fur boas and, from what Harry heard, one had skittered up Malfoy's pants and he'd let out quite a nasty wail. Hermione had heard that he was pressing charges for being violated.

"Weasel probably knew a ferret when he saw one," sneered Ron when they passed the infirmary where Malfoy was staying and refusing to let anyone near him.

"Shut up, Weasely!" snapped Malfoy.

"Ewww!" shrieked Hermione. "You don't want to get in his pants, do you?"

The four teens, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione, erupted into a loud guffaw and began squeaking like horny weasels to the amusement of themselves.

"GET LOST!" roared Malfoy/

"Oh!" gasped Ron. "Let's go guys, I think we're turning him on."

Again a round of giggles emerged and they skipped off to their classes with oddly bright smiles that no one questioned. Most of the school had more spring to their steps and almost everyone was two seconds away from bursting into song and dance, but for safety reason this story isn't a musicale so there will be none of that… Anyway, it was a good day that was made better when Harry was pulled out of his Potions class and the student doing so announced loudly that Professor Vector wanted to help plan Harry's DADA class. Harry knew he couldn't look at Snape and his heart made a sound like that of someone stepping on a pool toy during its deflation. However a wide grin spread across his face as Ron took out Luna's camera and clicked. Ron gave the camera to his Tokerstashide and all the Gryffindor began passing him noted about buying copies of the photo.

Harry traveled down the hall and the girl who'd pulled him out of class began to speak.

"Sorry about that," she said. "Just thought it'd brighten Neville's day."

"I'm sure it did," nodded Harry. "And everyone else's."

The girl smiled. "I wish I had gotten that-"

"On camera?" Harry grinned. "Ron will probably be selling copies later."

"Excellent," the girl laughed. "Tell him to put me down for five. I'm Rosemary Sunrays, by the way. In the Hufflepuff house."

"Ha-" Harry stopped, feeling that replying was a bit pointless.

Rosemary giggled and opened a door to a spiraling staircase that had no end in sight. They began to climb, having a nice conversation at first which quickly turned into faded silence with loud panting. Harry tried hard not to count the stairs and even as his legs began to shake he refused to look down. Rosemary was clinging to the railing and seemed about three seconds away from dropping to the floor when the stairs in front of them disappeared and were replaced with a gothic cathedral door. Rosemary flung herself at the door and knocked with resounding effort. The doorknob turned slowly and Harry heard a very human sounding CREEEEAAAAKK as the door opened.

"Pay no mind," said Rosemary. "Got a sense of humor, this one."

"One has to have some joy in life," came a startling voice. Harry could have described the voice as dark and evil, yet it held a smoothness and beauty he could not even dream of explaining. When Professor Draven spoke, his tone was soft and almost like a whisper, yet it easy to hear.

Rosemary smiled and moved aside to let Harry in. He wasn't exactly grateful as his feet didn't seem ready to move. Somehow he managed to blunder into the room with as much grace as a giraffe on ice, but his mind kept yelling at him that this person wasn't allowed to teach for a reason. Rosemary smiled and walked forward.

"I should get back, but I just wanted to say hello to Mortimer, is he-"

"Heelow!" came a squeak from above Harry. It was almost cute to hear and sounded like something a cartoon animal would do.

"Hello," Rosemary replied, laughing.

"Heelow!" came the reply.

"Yes, you've said that," said Professor Draven from the darkness.

"Bye, Professor," smiled Rosemary, brushing past Harry and out the door. Harry watched the thin line of corn yellow disappear as Rosemary shut the door behind her. When the door closed with a thud, Professor Draven flicked his wand and the candles lit up. Harry found himself in a classroom that was faintly visible in the candle light. The professor leaned forward, his fingers linked together, and said.

"Harry Potter." Professor Draven's face was shadowed by darkness and gave him a very skeleton look. Harry, the truth serum heavy in his pocket, strode purposely forward.

"You wanted to talk to me?" asked Harry.

"Yes, I'm having a bit of trouble getting full permission to teach," explained Professor Draven. "The ministry is being cautious for once, and I need someone to help. Now, all I need is for you to be available for questions students might have, but I'm afraid everyone is getting horridly bored with reading the book. So, I was hoping you could teach them a few shields."

"Shields?" questioned Harry. He'd never hear about shields before.

"Yes," replied Draven, nodding his head and sending the shadows cascading across his face. "With all that seems to happen to you each year and now that the dark times seem to be returning, I think it best everyone learns a few shields."

Harry was caught off guard by this. He'd expected Professor Draven to act suspicious, not admit that Voldemort was a threat. Still, Harry knew better than to drop his guard and asked, "What type of shields, professor."

"Mr. Potter, since you'll be teaching a class you may address me as Professor, or Erick, if you like," said Professor Draven. "The shields raise your defense against attacks. They all look different, but they're very helpful in duels. I'm sure the class will enjoy learning them, but you know them better."

Harry was a bit surprised, but nodded anyway as he tried to find an excuse to look around for a goblet or anything he could pour the potion into and then suggest they have some tea. Eric walked into the light to reveal a shockingly handsome man. Harry, of course, only noticed the attractiveness in a perfectly natural and manly way! Eric Draven was a tall man of about 6'1 and his eyes were evocative as they seemed to change color as he moved his head, though the base color was silver. He was clean shaven and dressed in gothic robes and a cape with a red lining that fell over his shoulders. His hair was raven black, wavy and fell to his jaw line. Harry of course, noticed this all simply as an observation.

The sound of a squeaky "Heelow!" made Harry jump and remember that here was another… thing… in the room.

"Yes, yes, Mortimer," Eric nodded impatiently. "Hello, hello. Go on Harry, say hello."

Staring up at the ceiling, as that was the direction Eric was looking in. Harry gave a feeble wave and said, "Errr, hi… hello."

"Heelow!" cane a joyous reply.

"You already said that!" Eric snapped, his growling mouth making Harry's face freeze in a twisted expression of shock and absolute horror. He jumped back and rammed painfully into a desk in his haphazard attempt to get away. Eric ignored this as he continued to address the ceiling.

"No, get down here and we can go find Severus."

"Heelow!"

"Mortimer," groaned Eric, turning to Harry and jumping back to copy the look and expression in his face.

"Y-y-you-you-you-you're-you're a-a-a v-vampire!" Harry sputtered out, receiving a loud Heelow from the ceiling.

"Y-y-you-you-you-you're-you're absolutely right," Eric dropped his look of horror in an instant and studied Harry as if waiting to see his reaction. "I'm also gay. Have a problem?"

Harry remained in his frozen stature, and his mind regurgitated the completely male and idiotic reaction of. "You're gay?"

"Course!" Eric replied. "Most vampires are, don't you read? Why else would most vampires choose another male to turn, which as an intimate process by the way. They're all bi, I just happen so swing more towards one side."

The next thought to reach Harry's brain was one he found amusing, even in his slight terror. "And you wanted to go find Snape?"

Eric laughed and nodded with a grin. "Now, seriously he's not my type, but I do LOVE to make him squirm."

Harry relaxed the tiniest of bits and Eric sat upon his desk, expecting more questions.

"I'm not allowed to teach yet as they fear I'll get hungry during class and- ooh, how convenient, lots of little people around to snack on," he rolled his eyes dramatically. "Until they receive the third record from Brazil, telling them I can teach, I have to wait."

"You taught in Brazil?" Harry asked.

"Course, that's where I found Mortimer," Eric nodded. "Long story, but his mother was killed when he was a baby and I found him in a drawer of a desk belonging to C. J. Mortimer. Apparently a few of the students though it'd be funny to put him in there. So I took him, I was the first thing he saw upon being able to open his eyes and yadda yadda yadda, here he is. Satirically, and laugh if you will, he is a fruit bat. It's ironical, but I'm a walking cliché so..."

Harry was too astounded to be amused at the moment, but be was beginning to understand why professor Bins hated Eric so much. "…Well, it's good you're not teaching, isn't it? I mean, what with all the attacks."

"Don't remind me. There's no way in hell I'm going near the coffee and I suggest you stray away from it as well."

"Coffee?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I heard a few American's talking about it," Eric clarified. "They said, and I quote, all the 'attacks' happened after the professors drank coffee and it might have been tampered with. I can't imagine who'd do that as only the house elves are allowed to deliver it and Winky, a lovely little house elf once she stops crying, tells me there has not been anything unusual going on in the kitchen and they're ordering the coffee from the same place. Then I though, well then it's someone at the company, but what would they have to gain?"

"Well, what if they're working for someone here?" Harry proposed, figuring that the homosexual Vampire would definitely not be hired without a thorough background check.

"I thought about that, but the only ones to benefit from the illnesses would be the substitutes, but from the way I hear Lee is welcoming them, it isn't much of a gain."

"He-e-e-e-e-e-e-elow!"

"Ignore him, he thrives for attention," grumbled Eric, rising to his feet. "So, Professor, shall we arrange a time for you to come and learn shields?"

"It's not him," Harry stated as he approached the lunch table. Hermione and Ron sprang apart in an instant and made a few people smile tauntingly.

"How, err, how do you know, Harry?" Ron asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Use the

"

"Shhh!" Ginny, Neville, Hermione, and Harry snapped.

"No, but… trust me, it's not him," whispered Harry.

"…What?" Hermione demanded. "It's got to be, it always is!"

"Maybe we missed a step; let's go blame Snape for a while and re-question Eric," Harry grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"But now what?"

Their attention was drawn away from the conversation as a seventh year Hufflepuff girl suddenly jumped up onto the table. She swung her hips and threw her hat off her head like a Frisbee. Everyone watched in shock as she unbuttoned her cloak, shimmied out of it and began swinging it above her head. The Slytherin bunch were the first to reply. The males whistled and made cat calls while the females, well some of them were joining the boys, but most began glaring at her or hitting their boyfriends.

The girl flung the cloak and it landed upon a timid first year whose eyes were the size of dinner plates by this time. Providing her own music, ( "Wakachuka wakachuka, BUHnanananana na na! Buhnanananana na na") the girl danced and gripped her shirt, pulling it slowly over her head. She swung the shirt and let it fly before rubbing her hands down her neck and towards her bra. It was at this point that a professor dove onto the table, seized her around the waist, and charted her off out of the great hall for a lecture; much to the disappointment of the guys.

"…Right," said Hermione. "So what's our next course of action?"

"…Bye," said Harry.

"Gotta go," said Ron.

"Uh, see you," said Neville.

"Got, errr, things to do," said Lee.

All around the hall, guys were excusing themselves and rushing away. Most of the first and third years stayed, but every one else was gone. The girls were left to roll their eyes, and Dumbledore tried to get every one's attention and tell them that the girl might have been jinxed into doing that and he wanted to know who did it. No one was sure why he said "who keeps doing that!" as that was the first time they'd seen it happen. With in an hour, no one seemed to care about the incident, which was odd as it had been a boring week. The girl handled it well though and could be seen giving autographs in the hallways. People seemed to think she'd been trying to annoy the teachers.

The showers had, surprisingly, been drained of all cold water and 'no one' seemed to know why. Hermione was a wreck. She was constantly muttering things under her breath and kept telling them that they'd missed something. Harry offered the coffee scenario to her and she leapt on it like a cat on a mouse.

"The coffee, of course!" she proclaimed.

"Hold up!" Sarah snapped, snapping her compact shut. "You're JUST thinking of the coffee!" she let out a groan and looked to Mike and Chase. "Obviously we can't count on them for the next clue." To which Mike and Chase agreed.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked slowly, trying to keep a level tempo.

"I thought it was the coffee so we went to the same store that delivers to Hogwarts and ordered the same brew," Sara explained. "We said it was for the Headmaster as he'd been a bit hesitant about going to the teacher's lounge. Nothing happened to us."

"Well what else could it be?" Ron asked.

"Sorry," Sarah shook her head. "We offered to team up and you said no, worded differently."

"Well, we've reached a dead end," sighed Ron, flopping back into a chair and nearly landing on Hermione's pussy. Crookshanks let out a hiss and stalked off to go find a nice juicy rat.

"Ron!" Hermione snapped.

"What? It's true."

"Maybe we SHOULD go back to blaming Snape," mumbled Harry, waiting for the git to show up.

"Yeah I mean; step one is to find a problem, did that. Step two is to blame Snape. Step three is annoy Hagrid, did that. Step four changes-"

"Ron, be logical," ordered Hermione. "There has to be an answer, we just haven't thought of it."

"Well, duh," drawled Mike, turning his chair around in a villainy movement.

They sat in silence as the fire crackled and the librarian stuck her nose around the corner to glare at them for talking in the presence of her precious books.

"Well," sighed Harry. "Now wha-"

"On shit!" Mike jumped up from his chair. "Potions, and we're going to be late!"

Pretending not to care if Snape reamed them, Harry, Ron, and Hermione shot out of the library at top speed and began making a mad dash towards the dungeon. The Americans followed slower, simply jogging as they didn't care as much. In a bizarre twist, the American's arrived before Harry and crew and they were late because they were busy trying to figure out how that had happened. Yet when they entered the class they found that Snape was not there.

"Joy, maybe there's been another attack," grinned Mike, seconds away from dancing. "Maybe he's gone!"

"Or maybe he's standing behind you," Snape hissed in his coldest voice usually reserved only for Harry.

"Crap," Mike cursed loudly and turned around. "Sorry abou-"

"Take your seats," Snape interrupted walking past Mike and watching as Harry and crew engaged in their usual habit of avoiding eye contact. The lesson went on in its usual way, only this time both Harry and Mike found their potions turned out horribly.

'Fillet of a fenny snake, in the cauldron boil and bake," sang Sara, looking quite wicked. Eye of newt and toe of frog. Wool of bat and tongue of dog. Adder's fork and blind worm's sting. Lizard's leg and owlet's wing. For a charm of powerful trouble, like a hell- broth boil and bubble."

"Nice potion work," admitted Snape, acknowledging Sara's best subject. "But must you sing?"

"Sadly, yes," Sara replied. "I'm not a potion's master as you, sir," she added. Having learned that casual sucking-up would make him leave her alone. "…Where was I?" She asked Chase.

"Double, double," yawned Chase, who wasn't allowed to help.

"Right!" Cheered Sara, greatly annoying Draco. "Double, double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf. Witch's mummy, may and gulf of the ravined salt-sea shark. Root of Hemlock, digged in'th dark. Liver of blaspheming Jew. Gail of goat and slips of yew slivered in the moon's eclipse. Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips. Finger of birth strangled babe. Ditch delivered by a drag. Make the gruel thick and slab! Add thereto a tiger's cauldron, for the ingredients of our cauldron."

"Stop it," Mike advised, looking over his now green potion as Neville, his partner, had a nervous breakdown.

"Cool it with a baboon's blood, now the charm is firm and good," Sara finished, looking evilly around her. Mike sighed and pointed at her potion.

"Fare thee well, I commend your pains and everyone shall shall in'th gain. Now round about the cauldron sing, like elves and fairies in a ring. Enchanting all that you put in."

Sara cackled and, to the Gryffindor amusement," Malfoy was to angry his potion had turned a sickening grey color.

"By the pricking of my thumb, something wicked this way comes!" Sara announced. At that moment there was a nock on the door that made everyone, including Snape, jump out of their skin and have to arrange a search party as there was a lot of skin laying around and no one wanted to end up in a frog. They all looked to Sara, who pointed at the door and without skipping a beat commanded.

"Open locks, whoever knocks!"

The door opened with an alarming Creeeeeeeak and professor Draven poked his head into the room. (Not that head, MechaPanda…)

"Sorry, Severus," he apologized and then turned his gaze upon Harry. "Professor, may I speak to you?"

Snape began walking forward, but Eric simply gestured for Harry to come. Harry, who really didn't need to piss Snape off anymore, twitched and started towards the door.

"Excuse me," Snape hissed, pushing Harry back.

Harry, knowing he was screwed, cast help-me look to Eric. Professor Draven smiled and walked towards Snape in mock delight.

"Sorry, did you want to discuss something with me, Severus," he asked softly. "We could discuss it in your office," he added.

Looking quite sour, Snape took a few steps back, away from Eric. Professor Draven, looking put out, grabbed Harry by the arm and began hauling him out of the room.

"Maybe later then?" Eric asked hopefully.

Snape began changing colors and the students engaged in a mental game of matching the colors to the various potions they'd made that year. "Perhaps," he growled out.

Eric's face erupted back into a smile and he gave a wink before shutting the door and hurrying down the hall with Harry in tow. They reached ground level and Eric burst into a fit of laughter.

"You'd think I'd been trying to rape him then and there," he giggled.

"That was an act?" questioned Harry.

Eric's laughter stopped, but he continued to grin. "Yep."

"Marvelous," grinned Harry. "Though, you know he's going to kill me, right?"

Eric waved his hand, dismissing the comment. "No, he's not going to do anything because when he does I'm going to tell him I think he's jealous and that I'd never touch a student. Then I'll add that I find it enchanting that he wished to teach beside me. Then, if all else fails, I'm going to ask if he's resisting my advantages while sabotaging your classes because he has a thing for you and I'm intruding, or if he's just being a tease."

Harry was slightly alarmed by this plan as it did not provide any good images and made his already loose skin crawl. He barely wanted to imagine Snape, he definitely didn't want to imagine Snape as a tease, or attracted to him.

"Anyway, I'd like to attend your DA meeting tonight," declared Eric.

"How'd you know we were still doing that?" Harry asked.

"Well, I know you've downsized the group as some people are rather put-off, however, I notice there are still a few members sneaking off to that room," explained Eric, his tone stating that he found the question to be trivial. "Anyway, I just thought I'd show the group shields and give you a chance to practice them without adding something more to your schedule."

"Err, well, I guess so," shrugged Harry.

"I won't take over," promised Eric. "I'll even come early if you wish and teach you the spells so I can merely supervise during the meetings."

"Actually that'll be good," said Harry. "We've needed a teacher sponsor."

"Perfect, though I'll include that only those proven worthy may attend, so you can keep your current members without threat of Slytherin students."

"Um, you do realize that the meetings are to train the average person to have a fighting chance against Voldemort?"

Harry noticed a flash in Eric's eyes upon the mentioning that name; a spark of pure hatred. One he'd only before seen in Albus Dumbledore's eyes. "Yes," Eric nodded. "If anyone has the right to raise a resistance, Harry, it is you."

"Heelow!" Mortimer chimed, flapping around the room. Harry noticed he wasn't very good at flying as he cartwheeled through the air in silly poses.

"Hello, Mortimer," grinned Harry, for the third time.

"Don't encourage him," muttered Eric, his shield shinning a brilliant rainbow.

Harry simply laughed. He'd found that Mortimer was actually an extremely cute little bat and seemed to think he was a human child. He went everywhere with Eric and the only thing he sad was Heelow, though Harry knew he could activate a shield as he was constantly flying into things, only to have a green orb flash around him and allow his to remain unharmed. After an hour, Harry found that the bat was better at making shields than he was.

"Like this, Harry, watch," instructed Eric. He let his wrist go lax and began string the wand around and moving his arm upward. "Ara contego!" Then, with a sharp flick of his wrist, the want emitted a bright light that formed into a shield.

"Remember, like a patronus, this shield is a form of protector. You have to have a strong frame of mind and powerful voice to command it to you."

"Heelow!"

"… I'm not sure where his strong mind is all the times, but trust me," he added.

"Ara contego!" Harry cast, watching a small circle of a shield.

"Good," said Eric, to Harry's surprise.

"What?" Harry questioned, looking at his pathetic shield.

"Hold still," Eric cast his shield and stood in front of Harry, wand raised. "Incommendatus!" he yelled.

The room erupted in a loud wail as Eric was blasted away and they both reveled at the sight of a shinning silver stay, hear lowered to ram and hoof digging in readiness. Within minutes the image faded and Eric stood up.

"Guardian angel," he laughed.

"Heelow!" cried Mortimer, swooping down to land on Eric's shoulder.

"What was that?" questioned Harry, excitement flowing through him.

"You feel happy?" Eric asked, grinning.

"… yeah, I guess so," said Harry, not understanding the question.

"I cast a spell which challenged the fact that you had a protector. Your shield is a link to what I call a guardian angel, which is a spirit watching over you. Yours takes the same form as your patronus and it stands ready to defend you," stated Eric.

"… so?"

"So, someone's trying to watch over you, Harry," smiled Eric. "Brilliant soul too," he added. "If someone fires that that shield now, thinking it's too small, they'll have to face a stag."

Harry was quiet. He knew what his patronus was and this new revelation brought a lot of comfort. He would have loved to see a big black dog though. Then again, there it was. The thought that tormented him from the moment he'd said he'd give anything to have Sirius back. He never said to have James, or Lily, it was always Sirius. Yet his father watched over him now, just as he'd died trying to do. Eric was also quiet, allowing Harry some much needed time to think. Even Mortimer was silent in respect.

The silence passed as Harry fought back into the real world.

"But for the demonstration… I want a bigger shield," he announced, looking at his puny excuse for a shield.

-

"Yours is bigger than mine!" roared Ron in outrage.

"Come off it!" ordered Harry.

"Boys, boys, it's not the size that… yeah it's the size…""

"Eric!"

"It's bigger and harder!"

"Yeah, it's straighter too, so what?"

"That's not fair!"

"You can make yours harder, just ask Hermione to help you," Harry advised.

"Boy did I walk in during the wrong part of this conversation," smiled Sara, opening the door.

Hermione, Ron, Harry and the other members stared at her in confusion, all except Eric who had been expecting it. He grinned and watched as one by one everybody seemed to realize what she'd heard and erupted into fits of laughter, leaving Ron to pale as his eyes grew wider and wider.

"Sorry I'm late, but Flitch is snooping around," explained Sara, taking her place among Mike and Chase.

"Right," said Harry, trying very hard not to smile as Ron turned an even brighter shade of red than his hair. "Well, let's give it half an hour more and then call it quits. Everyone ready?... right, ara contego!"

"Heelow!"

"What is that?" demanded Ron, as this was the twelfth time he'd heard that sound.

Mortimer was inside a pocket in Eric's cloak as the young bat had fallen asleep soon before the first person arrived. Harry was constantly keeping the girls on task as they seemed to want nothing more than to watch Eric. They'd flutter their eyelashes and sigh longingly and he'd simply grin and point at Harry and they'd slowly turn their gazed to Harry only to loose interest in a few minutes. Harry noticed that Chase also had a hard time focusing and Mike kept jeering and elbowing him in the ribs.

"What's going on?" Harry asked him once everyone was back on task.

"Nothing," replied Chase rather quickly as his face turned red.

"Shouldn't you be asking all the girls?" Mike proposed.

"I apologize, professor," said Eric. "Part of a vampire's survival is being attractive and being able to seduce anyone… my charm is a tad strong and it can prove distracting at first.

"That explains the girls," nodded Harry, snapping his fingers at Hermione and watching as she quickly busied herself with her shield again. "But why-"

"Professor," Eric whispered warningly.

Harry caught on and looked at Chase, who was focusing so hard on his spell that his hand was shaking. Mike and Sara kept their eyes on Harry, daring him to comment.

"I thought all you American's were fighting against that sort of thing," he said.

"We're not ALL rednecks ya know," Sara snapped.

"Some of us want equal treatment for everyone, yet eat meat as I've never heard of wild cows, I support war because I think terrorists suck, lets see, ah, some of us are not Democrat or Republican because no matter who is president there will be things that suck! I plan to graduate, I work hard for my money, and my family has never owned a slave," Mike ranted. "We walk around and have to listen to the damn Slytherin call us yanks, now you're stereotyping?"

"Ah, but sometimes being a cliché makes you an individual," smiled Eric. "Two kinds of stereotypical Americans are the hippies and the red-necks. Sure you could be a combination and make an acceptable human being, but with everyone thriving to be an individual, being a cliché is more original."

"I… guess," said Sara. "But the American stereotype sucks."

"I didn't tell you to be a stereotype, I told you to be a cliché," shrugged Eric, moving on to watch another group before anyone could question him. Though the teenagers assumed he'd gone mad, the wise professors plan had worked as they'd forgotten what they were arguing about.

"…Anyway," said Sara. "I was talking to Firenze, and he told me about this llama in the woods, but said we'd have to know more about the woods to find him, so I think that mission if best left to you as long as you promise to tell us what you learn."

"What llama?"

"I dunno, said his name was Donny and he was very wise," Sara shrugged, elbowing Mike, who was dueling with Chase and loosing horribly. "I'll give you the map if you promise to share the info."

"Agreed," Harry promised. After the club he received a map drawn upon a pink scroll of parchment with sparkly hearts on it. Sara made him swear upon his broom that he wouldn't go against the deal and eventually released the parchment and headed to the dorm.

"Well done, Professor," Eric grinned, looking about the room. "They've picked up the concept quite well for such a young group."

"Classes are different when you volunteer for them," Harry explained modestly.

Eric raised an eyebrow. "Sure, has nothing to do with idolizing the instructor. Goodnight," and in a puff of smoke he was gone, leaving behind an echoing "Heelow!"

As Ron and Hermione had left to go 'find something important Ron dropped earlier' Harry was left alone to straighten up the room. When he left it was late and he was forced to hurry through the halls, haven given his cloak to Ron and Hermione. For a secret reason he was out late almost every night, but tonight was harder without the cloak. He dashed through the halls and saw Desdemona.

"Hey," he greeted.

She looked over at him and hurried forward. "Shhh," she whispered. "Flitch is just down the corridor."

"What? How do you know?" Harry asked, alarmed.

"My grandmother is one of his closest friends and as punishment for low grades I'm helping him watch the halls."

"Oh," moaned Harry.

"Hurry!" she urged, pointing down the hall. "Go."

"What?"

"Go, before he hears you!" replied Desdemona.

"Thanks," whispered Harry, smiling.

"I owe you and Neville for helping."

"That was nothing-"

"Go!"

Harry nodded and rushed past her. He made great pains to deaden the sound of his footsteps and leapt around the corner in time to hear Flitch march down the hall.

"I heard something, who was it?" Flitch ordered of Desdemona.

"N-no one sir," Desdemona replied. "J-just talking to myself."

"Rotten little… children like you end up in prison, do you know that? Putting your grandmother through so much shame. She did not ask me to knock some sense into you just so you could start talking to yourself!"

"N-no, sir," replied Desdemona. "Sorry sir."

"…Are you sure you didn't see anyone?"

"No, sir, no one."

"…keep patrolling then, the prefects are slacking off ever since Percy left!"

"Yes, sir."

Flitch left, muttering about destroying small children, and Desdemona was gone before Harry could peak around the corner to thank her. He headed up to the dorm and slept an exhausted sleep. Tomorrow would prove to be a busy day.