Thanks you five for sticking with it.
FemmeLoki - hereby named official nubile nymph in sexy nurse's uniform. OK?
Helena Oe: Shucks! Now THAT is flattery.
JessiokaFroka - so would I be heartbroken, but that doesn't mean you can be complacent. (btw, are you still interested in betareading Madness II? because it's ready. Send me an email if you are.)
Thousandl - Don't worry, my stories are never far from Snape - lots to come.
Persephone Lupin - Hit by the Night Bus? With his grey underpants? Oh dear!
Chapter Five
HEAD BOYS
Ron was bearing up well considering the rhinocoral - a triangular yellow shield that stuck to his nose and protected it while the skin grew back. It looked like a beak and the colour clashed vividly with his face, which turned bright red whenever he walked past groups of girls.
"Why did it have to happen now, just when I'm about to see this new female teacher for the first time?" he wailed. "Ginny's seen her. She says she's hot."
Hermione looked at him scornfully.
"That's what she said, is it? Ginny said Professor Flight was 'hot'?"
"Well," said Ron uncomfortably. "She said she was beautiful."
Hermione was kept busy helping those who couldn't quite get the hang of the Impervious spell to make them waterproof before they entered the Prefects bathroom.
Professor Flight was sitting on a rock that was standing in the back of the enormous bath. The water looked more like sea water than anything Harry would like to bathe in. It lapped gently around the rock, just below Professor Flight's feet.
She sat watching them as they settled around the edge of the bath, her blue eyes sparkling as she surveyed them. Her hair was long and flowing, looking as though it were made of feathers. It arched over her eyes and came to a point over her nose.
She was dressed in a robe of watery silver that looked rather like the material that made up Harry's invisibility cloak, only more solid. The robe seemed to be held up by a magnificent necklace; a wreath of feathers in oranges, browns, reds and yellows.
Ginny had been right. She was very beautiful, with high cheekbones and bow-shaped lips, and when she spoke, her voice floated gently to Harry's ears like waves lapping on a beach.
He looked at Ron who had a glazed expression on his face. Harry nudged him and he jumped.
"Veela?" whispered Harry.
"Mmmmmm, who cares." He went back to his gaze.
"This term, we shall be concentrating on the dark arts and the water. My name is Flight. For the duration of my time here, you will address me as 'Professor Flight'." She looked as though she found this mildly amusing. "To quell your curiosity, I am neither mermaid or talking hippogriff. I am a member of the Sisterhood of Sirens. Anyone..?"
She offered the question to the class and as she lifted her arms, a pair of large white wings unfurled momentarily behind her.
"Beautiful women whose singing voices lure sailors to their death at sea," said Hermione, who had raised her hand.
Professor Flight smiled.
"That is the Muggle version," she said, and Hermione looked both taken aback and a little deflated. "We sing actually to warn of impending danger. Most of those in the magical world understand. Unfortunately, Muggles become enraptured by our voices and follow us rather than turn away. We are part human, part bird. We cannot fly to any great heights, but skim across the surface of the water quicker than any living beasts.
"And yes, we are related to Veela," she ended, looking directly at Harry.
#
Ron received a reply from Fred and George the next morning at breakfast. They sent a box of Canary Creams and a very short letter:
"Dear Ron, Harry and Hermione,
Midnight, Friday,
Gryffindor Common Room.
See you there,
Fred and George."
Ron looked up at Harry and Hermione.
"They're using the Floo network. Both Fred and George's heads in the fire - that's really put me off my breakfast."
#
Harry, Ron and Hermione managed to secure the armchairs nearest the fire in the Common Room on Friday evening.
Gradually the room emptied - a couple of fifth years were the last to leave. In fact, George's head appeared in the fire just as they left.
"Evening," said George. "Oh, cool nose, Ron. Fred'll be here in a sec. Thought I'd get a head start!"
Fred's head appeared next to George's.
"Nice face-furniture, Ron," then looking at George, "sorry to interrupt, you go ahead!"
"How are you two managing to do this without Mum knowing?" asked Ron, ignoring their comments.
"We're using the fireplace at the shop. We've told Mum we're stocktaking," said Fred.
"S'weird to be back," said George. "Always knew I'd make Head Boy!"
"Will you two stop mucking around and tell us what you know."
"OK, but we don't know a lot. We're hardly ever home and when we are, Mum seems to be one step ahead (ahead! ha ha) of our spy plans," said George.
"Do you know what's happened to Professor Snape?" asked Hermione.
"Only that Lupin arrived back last week in a terrible state," said George.
"I mean, he's always looked a bit rough, but he really was in a right state. From what we can make out, putting two and two together, Lupin's convinced he attacked Snape during a full moon."
"Whoa! So the rumours were right," said Ron, stunned.
"But why would he have changed into a werewolf if Snape was on hand to give him his potion?" said Harry.
"And even if he did attack Professor Snape, a werewolf attack wouldn't put someone in a coma-like state like Ron and Harry described. Or for this long," said Hermione.
"That's exactly what Dumbledore thinks," said Fred. "We think Lupin's agreed to let Dumbledore give him some potion that'll help him remember the truth."
"Is Professor Dumbledore giving Professor Lupin his werewolf potion as well?" asked Hermione.
"No. He's been getting that from St.Mungo's," said George. "Remember that bloke in the bed opposite Dad? He'd been bitten by a werewolf. Well apparently Lupin's been counselling him and they've become quite good friends. So with all his regular trips to St. Mungo's, Lupin's been getting his potion from there. It means he doesn't have to rely on Snape."
Good thing, too," said Ron. "Talk about biting the hand that feeds you!"
"We wondered who was making the potion, with Snape being sick," said Harry.
"Talking of Snape, how are you getting on with the temporary teacher while Snape's away?" asked Fred, a funny gleam in his eye.
"Polykett? He's mad!" said Ron. "Our first Potions lesson he made our cauldrons explode - that's why I've got to wear this stupid thing." He pointed to the rhinocoral.
Fred and George looked at each other and grinned.
"What?" snapped Ron.
"He's not standing in for Snape," said George, still grinning broadly.
"Yes, he is," said Harry. "He's gradually wrecking the Potions Room. Ron's right - he's mad."
"Polykett might be teaching Potions, but he's not Snape's stand-in," said Fred.
"Got a rather attractive Siren teaching you, haven't you?" said George.
"Yes, but she's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," said Hermione.
"Correction. She's the temporary Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," said Fred.
The twins grinned at their bemused faces. Then Hermione caught her breath and Harry suddenly realised what the twins were saying
"You are joking!" spluttered Ron.
"We run a rather successful joke shop, but we're not joking about this," said George. "Snape finally landed the DADA job. The Siren is teaching you until Snape returns."
"But...but how come he's got it now, after all these years?" said Harry.
"Dunno," said Fred. "The only thing we can think is that Lucius Malfoy's not on the Board of Governors at the school. He's in jail so he can't have any influence on who gets the job."
"But Dumbledore..."
"Why do you think Dumbledore's been employing such duff DADA teachers? So that every year they leave and Snape gets another chance to apply for the job," said George.
"Anyway, that's all we know and my knees are killing me," said Fred.
"Yeah, we've got to go," said George. "We'll let you know if we hear anything else."
They disappeared from the fire. The other three looked at each other in amazement.
"Who's going to be the one to break the news to Neville?" said Hermione. "He gave up Potions because he's terrified of Snape and now he's got him for Defence Against the Dark Arts."
Suddenly George's head reappeared in the fire.
"Harry; forgot - ought to warn you. They're talking about stopping you going into Hogsmeade at Halloween."
"What?! Why?"
"Because you're still at the top of You-Know-Who's hit-list. Dumbledore doesn't want you caught off your guard. Thought you ought to know."
And he was gone.
"Dumbledore doesn't want me 'caught off my guard'?" said Harry in a daze.
"It sounds as if he's expecting an attack at any moment," said Ron.
"How's your scar, Harry?" asked Hermione, anxiously. "You haven't mentioned it hurting."
"That's because it's easier to tell you when it doesn't hurt," said Harry.
"I suppose you would be a bit vulnerable, wouldn't you?" said Ron. "I mean, imagine strolling through Hogsmeade with a mouth full of Honeyduke's toffee and suddenly You-Know-Who appears in front of you."
"No, it's not that..." said Harry, thoughtfully. He looked from Ron to Hermione and wondered if what he was about to do was the right thing. They were his best friends, but he hadn't yet found the right time to tell them about his talk with Dumbledore last year.
"At the end of last term, Dumbledore told me about the Prophecy. The one Voldemort was after. The Prophecy was made by Professor Trelawny before I was born."
Harry took a deep breath and repeated the words of the Prophecy. Words that had been spinning around in his brain all summer.
Ron and Hermione stared at him. Hermione had gone white.
"Oh, Harry," she said, thickly.
"So, 'neither can live while the other survives'," said Ron. "That means..."
"It means," said Hermione, her voice cracking. "That Harry either has to kill Voldemort, or be killed by him. They can't both survive."
"Bloody Hell!"
"I've just realised why I'm being protected so much," said Harry. "Remember back in our second year, when we had to look after those Mandrakes? Who would choose to keep those ugly plants? But Professor Sprout cultivated them until they could be used to cure the people who'd been attacked by the Basilisk."
"And I'm very grateful she did," said Hermione.
"And then Hagrid - rearing a herd of Thestrals, which are not pleasant to see for a couple of reasons. He's raised them so they can pull the coaches from the station to the school."
"Harry, what are you saying?" said Hermione, quietly.
Harry stood up and began pacing the room.
"Dumbledore actually told me that his priority was to keep me alive. Why? He said I'm the only one who has the chance of conquering Voldemort for good." Harry gave a short laugh. "I'm not being protected for my own sake. I'm being cultivated just like the Mandrakes, because I'll be useful later on. I'm their only hope of getting rid of Voldemort, so they've got to look after me and nurture me until they reckon I've got the best chance of winning the battle."
"Harry, that's rubbish and you know it. Dumbledore cares for you, you know that. Even Professor McGonagall's got a soft spot for you," said Hermione.
Harry thought of the other things Dumbledore had told him. That it could easily have been Neville in this position. If Voldemort had chosen to try and kill baby Neville instead of him, it could have been Neville who'd been wrapped in cotton wool all these years, and he, Harry would be free of the ultimate responsibility that lay ahead.
"If it was Neville," he said, his voice getting louder by the second. "If it was Neville Voldemort was after, d'you think Dumbledore would pay me as much attention? Be as fond of me? Or would I be just another face amongst all the others here?"
Ron and Hermione stared at him in silence.
Harry nodded.
"Yeah, thought so. Well, Dumbledore's precious weapon is tired of all the protection. I'm going to Hogsmeade at Halloween whether Dumbledore says so or not. Even if I have to blast Filch out of the doorway to get out."