Snapshots and Thundersnow
Chapter 4: Back to School

"Well, what have we here. Very bright indeed... yes, a fine mind... good bit of courage, and quite shrewd... not one to be around others, are you? Ravenclaw would suit—hmm? Slytherin? Well, if that's what you want, no doubt you're cunning enough... very well... SLYTHERIN!"
Theo hated the trip to Hogwarts. It wasn't that he minded the train ride—though he did tend to end up sitting with some odd people. Malfoy (before first year and talking about how wonderful Slytherin was), that spacey Ravenclaw (reading the Quibbler of all things), a pair of hyperactive Gryffindors (why had he spoken to them!)... no, the train was the least of his problems.

The thestrals were problems. On one hand, certainly he understood why the school used them. They were brilliantly suited for the work, as Hagrid had tried so hard to explain before Umbridge ruined that lesson. On the other... well, it seemed a lousy way to start the school year, everyone having to remember that they'd seen people die.

So he sat in the carriage with Blaise Zabini and a couple of fifth-years, and looked everywhere but at the winged horses.

The mood of the students as they filed into the Great Hall was rather subdued, which wasn't exactly surprising. There was a war going on and all. On the other hand, Theo noticed an awful lot of pointing and whispering, much of it directed towards the Slytherins. He was at a bit of a loss to figure this out, especially when he got odd stares and Blaise didn't, until he reminded himself of his previous thought.

There's a war going on. And I've committed the heinous crime of Being Born To Death Eater.

Abruptly he felt nauseous. "Save me a seat," he choked out to Blaise, and sprinted for the nearest toilet. It was going to be a long year, a very long year. What were they saying anyway? Look there, all those Slytherins, their dads are in Azkaban. They'll all be Death Eaters too, you want to stay away from them...

Not that he particularly cared if people wanted to stay away from him, but he wasn't going to be a Death Eater. Why did he want to follow the same career path that had kept his father in Azkaban since last June? He'd been wondering that all summer.

Then again, who knew if his opinions on the subject were going to matter...

By the time he actually got where he was going, the nausea had faded. He splashed some water on his face, got rid of it with a quick Drying Charm, and stared at the mirror. "Snap out of it," he ordered his reflection, muddy green eyes narrowed. "You're not a Death Eater, and if anyone thinks you are, it's their problem."

He stalked back to the Great Hall, the very picture of Slytherin pride.

"And finally, as Professor Umbridge had to leave us—" there was a massive round of applause throughout the Great Hall, forcing Dumbledore to stop speaking for what seemed like several minutes, though Colin doubted it was really that long. "—may I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Winters." There was scattered applause, not nearly so much as there had been for Umbridge's departure. Professor Winters was a slender young man in a shimmering blue cloak, though between his hood and the light reflecting off his glasses, Colin couldn't make out his face.

"Winters?" Harry's friend Hermione (who Colin had ended up sitting next to, through no real effort of his own) gave a disbelieving snort as the feast appeared on the tables.

"What's wrong with that?" Ron wanted to know between bites of chicken.

"Well it can't be a real name, can it?" She said this as if it explained everything and even Colin, trying to pretend he wasn't eavesdropping, stared at her until she elaborated. "He's obviously an Ice Mage."

"D'you know everything?"

Hermione looked smug. "Normal wizards wouldn't wear a cloak like that unless they were visiting the North Pole. You see how it's shimmering, the charm that—"

"Okay, okay, we're impressed." Ron practically dove into his mashed potatoes and it was clear the discussion was over. Which was a shame, because Colin didn't know what an Ice Mage was.

Then again, the implication was obvious.

"Harry," he asked when it seemed like a good time, "are we still going to have the DA this year?"

Harry hesitated with a bite of pork chop halfway to his mouth, and from his expression it was clear he hadn't really thought about it. (That or he'd been enjoying a Colin-free dinner... nah.) "Well... I guess I wouldn't mind doing it," he recovered lamely. "Let's see how the new teacher is first, all right?"

"All right." Colin didn't voice his thoughts from the train, and went back to feeding Snap apple slices.

Rory Hollis, another Gryffindor fifth-year, looked over at him, probably to see why he was putting his food on his shoulder rather than in his mouth. "Colin, when did you get a mouse?" he snickered. "It looks just like you!"

"Are you jealous?" Colin shot back, in as innocent a tone as he could muster. Rory was nice enough, and Colin got on with him fine, but he wasn't half as funny as he thought he was. "His name's Snap, and he's a dormouse, not just a mouse." He'd gotten oddly obsessive about that for some reason.

Dennis piped up. "I'd rather look like Colin's pet than yours, Rory."

Rory and a few other fifth-years laughed, though he went slightly red and glanced protectively at his toad, Bouncer.

The rest of dinner was uneventful, and nobody else had any snide remarks about Snap.

N.E.W.T. classes always put at least two Houses together, since often only one or two students of the same House would be taking a particular class. But Percy did not find it surprising when every sixth-year Slytherin and Gryffindor filed into his classroom for their first class. It was Defense Against the Dark Arts, for Merlin's sakes, who was going to skip that?

The class was still reasonably small, since the whole sixth-year class was. (Not a lot of people had been having kids during the He Who Must Not Be Named era, and all.) He went through the roll quickly, and gave the class a brief nod of greeting. "Gryffindors and Slytherins, welcome to your first N.E.W.T. Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Before we begin, I understand your professor last year was... less than competent. I have to teach this class assuming you've been through a proper fifth-year curriculum, so if you have any questions because of what was not covered last year, please don't hesitate to ask."

Percy was nervous. He'd cast a minor charm to alter his voice, an Obscuring Charm on his cloak, and the usual Reflector Charm on his glasses, and was confident (with good reason) that he wouldn't be recognized by the casual observer. Indeed, even most of the teachers didn't seem to realize who he was, though he wondered if they were faking it...

However, he'd not encountered any relatives since abandoning his identity. Ron's being here was making him panic. And that was ridiculous, because Ron had shown no sign of recognizing him.

Nobody had raised their hands to ask any questions yet. Of course not. They didn't even know what they were doing yet. Right. "Please take out your textbooks and turn to page thirty, the section on the Deflector Spell. Once everyone is finished reading that, we'll have a practical lesson."

He heard Malfoy muttering something about "first-years' stuff" and scowled. "Mr. Malfoy, if you find this beneath you, feel free to drop the class." He cast a glare around the room before remembering they couldn't tell where he was looking. "That goes for anyone who doesn't care to take this class seriously."

There were no more complaints. It took about ten minutes for the class to finish, and Percy took the opportunity to move the empty desks at the back of the room, clearing out a large area. When everyone was staring at him rather than their books, he motioned for them to join him in the back.

The textbook he'd assigned them was one of the best, but it was written in rather archaic language, and it was best to see what they'd learned anyway. "Now, just as a recap, could someone please explain the function of the Deflector Spell?" Hermione's hand shot up. Big surprise. "Miss Granger?"

"The Deflector Spell, declinare, seeks out the nearest spell to its caster and diverts it. The spell is most useful when you are surrounded by enemies, and not very useful when you have friends nearby, because you can't control where the spell is deflected to."

"Excellent." Several Slytherins rolled their eyes. Hermione ignored them.

Percy spent a moment going over the proper wand movements. "The spell will not function if there's nothing to deflect. So, if I could have a volunteer—" Hermione's hand shot up again. This time Percy rolled his eyes too, thankful for the Reflector Charm. "I was under the impression there are people in this class other than Miss Granger."

Nobody raised their hands. If they'd known what they were volunteering for, Percy imagined a few more Slytherins at least would have gone for it. Their loss...he demonstrated the spell against Hermione's expelliarmus, which ended up sending Neville Longbottom's wand across the room.

Percy paired everyone up, sat back, and watched the chaos, occasionally interrupting to give pointers. Ron still had not recognized him. He was in no hurry to change that situation.