Sorry about the wait!
Hey, I realized a mistake I made in the last chapter... when Draco was thinking that there was only two more months left until winter break, that was incorrect. It was the students' first day of school, so technically, they would not have winter break for at least three or four months. Sorry! I do not know exactly how to fix that yet. And Deatheater is Death Eater… isn't it? Er… sorry about that too! runs away in shame
Unpleasant Surprises
Lazily, Blaise held his schedule before his face, evaluating its contents. He sat in a slouched position on one of the deep green sofas of the Slytherin common room. It was quite early in the morning, so there where very few other Slytherins hanging about. A minute or two passed, and Draco blearily sauntered out of the boy's prefect dormitories. He was carefully polishing his prefect badge, which had already been neatly placed beside his Slytherin badge on his robes. He made his way over to Blaise, and sat across the coffee table in an emerald armchair, tossing his legs over one armrest, and resting his back against the other.
He glanced at Blaise expectantly. He must have felt Draco's look, because he said, "Well, we have Ancient Ruins and Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, Divination and Magical Studies with the Ravenclaws… and Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Astronomy with the Gryffs."
"Bloody fantastic!" said Draco, his voice oozing with sarcasm. "Another Potty filled year! That's all I need… what do we have today, anyway?"
"Where is your schedule?" asked Blaise.
"It's in my bag," said Draco flatly.
"Well, where is your bag?"
"Its in my bloody dormitory with my books! Can't you just tell me what the hell we have today?" Those who knew Draco well, knew that he was not particularly fond of mornings. He was often found to be even tetchier than usual in the earlier hours of the day.
Other than the imperceptible lift of an eyebrow, Blaise was unphased by Draco's present mood. "Today," he said, "We have Divination, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions…"
"Even more wonderful… double Gryffs in the afternoon," Draco began to jadedly pull at a piece of slack material attached to the chair he sat in. "Wait… we have to take Ancient Ruins?"
Blaise nodded dejectedly. "Unfortunately, if you have not taken it before, it is a required seventh year class,"
"Why? Who cares? They're ancient! Whatever happened with them happened years ago… why do we need to know about it?"
Blaise shrugged. Draco glowered. After a few more minutes, Crabbe and Goyle trudged out of the boy's dormitories. For some reason, a humorous image of Goyle crouching down over an ancient vase, while scrutinizing it with a magnifying glass materialized in his head, causing him to snort in bitter mirth. The mere thought of Crabbe and Goyle studying ancient ruins was unbelievable. However, the funniest part about the whole thing was once the goons realized that Draco had begun to laugh, they joined in, as usual, obviously having no idea that Draco was amused by their own idiocy.
Blaise raised his eyebrow, as he so often did; he would not even bother asking. "Er… shall we go up to breakfast then?" tried Blaise.
"Does McGonagall do this on purpose?" Ron Weasley sat in the Great Hall, holding his schedule in front of his porridge.
"Do what?" asked Harry, picking up his schedule as well. He knew exactly what Ron meant, the very moment his eyes fell onto the page. "Oh… Potions with the Slytherins… again,"
"Not just Potions Harry… We've got Defense Against the Dark Arts and Astronomy with them, as well,"
"Well, we only have Astronomy once a week, the way it is…" Harry laid his schedule back down, not wanting to think anymore about his last year at Hogwarts. He was as glad as ever that he, indeed, decided to come back, however; he kept remembering that this year was seventh year… after this, people would begin to expect more and more out of him. It was not the fact that he had to stick his head out into the world and get a successful wizarding job, a wife, children and so on… everyone would have to do that. It was merely… once everything at Hogwarts was said and done, he would have to begin working on something that he really did not want to. He had to defeat the Dark Lord… Horcruxes were constantly on his mind. Meanwhile, the only wizarding job that had even sparked his interest was that of an Auror. So, if Harry could manage Hermione's grades for the next nine months, while he found and destroyed all of these well hidden Horcruxes, without the help of Dumbledore, he was set.
Granted, the very moment Harry returned to Hogwarts, he went up to Dumbledore's old office, now occupied by McGonagall, and waited for Dumbledore to come back to his empty portrait. Once Dumbledore returned, Harry began to shower him with questions pertaining to what he should do. Unfortunately, the portrait had little advice to offer. He told Harry to follow his heart, and to do his best. Harry demanded that Dumbledore go back to being honest with him, even if he was dead. McGonagall, who had been observing the situation, with a grave face of regret, told Harry that the Dumbledore in the portrait was not the true Dumbledore he knew. This was merely a representation of Dumbledore, with the ability to respond as Dumbledore would on matters, and also to mock Dumbledore's personality. Because neither his soul, nor his mind was actually contained within the portrait, it could not have possibly had any helpful answers to any of Harry's desperate questions. "Do not be unhappy dear boy," Dumbledore had consoled. "Have a lemon drop."
"It doesn't matter that its only once a week, its an hour and a half longer that we would have to spend with the Slytherins, otherwise!" said Ron, pulling Harry back to reality, as he folded his schedule in half and tossed it on the table. "Hermione, why are you smiling?"
Hermione, too had been looking at her schedule. "Its just that I thought you would be more cheerful this morning, seeing as it is your first day as Head Boy and all."
Ron smiled slightly. "Your keep thinking of more ways to bring that up don't you…"
"Well, I'm just proud of you is all—"
"Or, you are really just trying to think of ways to bring up your own stature as head girl…"
"Oh please, Ronald! Do you have to take every compliment I give you and turn it into an insult towards me?"
"Me? I'm telling the truth is all… I'm sorry that you get so easily offended by the truth," Ron glared at Hermione, waiting for a response, however she merely scowled, and turned her head.
"Oh, now you think you are too good to talk to me—"
"I never said that—"
"Er—" Harry attempted to cut in, in order to announce something as inane as the arrival of the owls. Hermione and Ron had the same viewing perspective as Harry did… he merely wanted to find a way to cease the incessant bickering between the two. However, once the two goaded Gryffindors looked at Harry, annoyed and expecting him to continue; he buckled under their stares and let out a meek, "Mail… it's here,"
Ron searched the ceiling for the tiny flitty creature that was his owl, Pigwidgeon. Hermione returned to her book, Every Kneazle has a purpose, and Harry too looked up for Hedwig. After a few moments, Pig fell into Ron's lap with a letter bigger than he was attached to his leg. Hedwig followed closely behind Pigwidgeon; however, she gracefully descended from the ceiling and landed on Harry's arm. She had a copy of the Daily Prophet; which Harry followed his standard routine of tossing it aside, once he noticed that there was nothing today, pertaining to Voldemort's ascension.
Just as Harry was about to leave the Great Hall, to go back up to his room to get his school books, another owl; a dark russet one landed before his feet. Harry recognised this owl as Remus Lupin's. He detached the rather thick envelope from its leg, and curiously tore the seal.
Dear Harry,
How are you fairing on your first day? I expect that you will not have even started yet by the time you get this letter, but answer that question after school. I am writing you because I have a special bit of news I think might interest you. I have been looking into schools for you over the summer, because I would suppose that in your home you have no… time to research such a thing. Fortunately, I came across a remarkable Wizarding College. Bilcron University is meant mainly for the aspiring Auror, or rather, its teachings are in the field of protecting others from harm. Enclosed within this package is a brochure with information on the school's class options and grounds, and a list of the required marks for each class, and scores from this year's N.E.W.T.S. I am aware that it is the beginning of the year, however, I suspect that before long, you will begin to worry about this sort of thing. If you have any questions, any at all, or if you should find any need to just talk about life after Hogwarts, do not hesitate to owl me. Everyone down in the Order says 'hello'. Have a splendid year, and please at least take a look at these leaflets.
Well Wishes,
Remus Lupin
Harry tipped Lupin's owl two sickles from his robe pocket, and continued to walk to the common room. For the passed two years or so, people always seemed to be genuinely worried about Harry, but no one could ever seem to tell him the exact reason why. No one bothered to help him either… with the exception of a lackluster brochure, and a list of grade requirements Harry knew he could never meet. Either way… he did not plan to go to a university next year… he had more important things in store.
Without even taking out the rest of the papers Lupin had given him, Harry tossed the entire letter into his nightstand drawer. He knew Lupin would ask him about it soon, but Harry would put off the thought of college for as long as he could manage.
Draco walked out of Divination, feeling a slight crick in his neck. Trelawney decided that because it was the beginning of the year and everyone in the class was in their seventh year, she would take the first couple of days to read each person in the class's palm in great detail. She wanted to predict what was to come in the nearby future, in order to allow the students to attempt to avoid any ordeals that may be coming their way. The very worst part about it was that she taught it in front of the entire class, in order to allow them to learn to read palms as well. It was humourous, Draco had to admit, to witness Anthony Goldstine attempting to hide the tears welling up in his eyes, when Trelawney predicted he would be working at the Leaky Cauldron after he left Hogwarts, until he retired, at the age of eighty-seven and a half years old.
Since last year had been another disaster in the DADA dept., there would yet again, be a new teacher. Draco smirked. Perhaps Professor McGonagall was better at choosing Defense teachers than Dumbledore had been.
Draco ambled into the DADA room, and sat between Blaise, and Parvati Patil. Neither Crabbe, nor Goyle had the O.W.L.S. to enter into DADA in seventh year. He peered around the room, to see who which Gryffindors had made it to the class. Thomas, Finnegan, Longbottom; (there's a surprise), Patil, Weasley, Granger, and… Potter.
When Potty noticed Draco's eyes on him, he glanced up, only half bothering to fill his gaze with the odium that had once been so legitimate. Draco quickly turned back around. The very last thing he needed was for Potter to start going soft on him, merely because he had… problems fulfilling his task the year before. He would be the laughing stock of the Death Eaters, if the Boy-who-shouldn't-have-lived began to take pity on him. He nearly gagged at the thought.
Draco glanced at the clock at the front of the classroom. Class should have started two minutes before, but there was no teacher at the desk. However, as if on cue, the door swung open, admitting a very pale, harassed looking witch, carrying an overlarge pile of papers. She seemed extremely out of breath, her floppy celestial witch's hat askew. She looked to be in her mid to late thirties, and wore strange, deep blue robes, matching her hat.
"Er—sorry, I lost track of time. I suppose that makes me fashionably late," there were a few, weak, pity laughs throughout the room. Just as she placed the papers on the desk, they slipped off, spilling into and unorganized pile on the floor. "Oh," she glanced at the papers, then waved a hand at haphazardly at them. "No one get that… do not worry yourselves."
"What a dolt," whispered Blaise. Draco laughed.
The witch looked at Blaise, curiously. "Was there something you wanted to say? I didn't hear—" for a moment, Draco thought that she had just pulled a McGonagall, and truly knew exactly what Blaise had said, and was merely waiting to see if he would confess. However, her curiosity appeared genuine.
Draco stifled another chortle, pretending to be coughing, in a very obvious manner. The witch did not seem to catch that, either. Blaise merely starred, hiding a smirk by raising both eyebrows. "No, Ma'am."
"Oh," the witch scanned the rest of the room. "Er—morning everyone. My name is Professor O'Shire, and I will be teaching The Defense Against the Dark Arts class, this year—er—obviously. I am glad to be here today, and I am hoping that I can live up to the fine line of DADA teachers you have all gone through." She strained a forced smile.
Was she serious?
"Let us begin… with our lesson plan straight away… since I accidentally delayed all of you, I do apologise for that—"
O'Shire knelt down to where her papers had fallen, and began to rummage through them. She pulled out two pieces of parchment, laid them onto the desk, and continued to rummage, until she came across a green folder, with a fresh notebook inside, that looked as though it were about to fall out. She tossed that notebook onto her desk as well, and stood up straight.
After she took attendance with the first piece of parchment, O'Shire waited silently for the entire room to quiet down. She did not even call for silence. She merely waited.
"Right, well—" O'Shire pulled the notebook from the folder, and opened it to the first page. "Because this year is your last year at Hogwarts… the Ministry of Magic requires that all students taking DADA to take part in a group project." Professor O'Shire picked up the second piece of parchment, and began to read aloud. "As students will soon be graduating from Hogwarts, knowing how to defend themselves is imperative. However, knowing how to defend oneself should have already been accomplished, and mastered by the seventh year. That is why, a new selection of units in the course Defense Against the Dark Arts has just been created, for seventh years. For the school year of 1998-1999, students will study the art of 'Partnership Scenarios'. New tactics will be tested, where mock situations are set up for two people. One person must remain in 'danger', while the other finds a way out of it for their partner, by means of any magic they have knowledge of, and permission to use. No extraordinarily dangerous creatures will be used during this course, however, creatures such as boggarts, mabapies, or any other manageable ersatz beasts available will be used throughout—' Any questions, so far?"
Draco turned around in his chair. Granger's hand was waving in the air, of course.
"Er—yes Miss—" O'Shire looked at the attendance sheet. "Granger?"
"Are mabapies entirely safe to use for defense training? They are known to be rather vicious…"
"First off… who else knows about the mabapie… just so I can be clear on how to go about an explanation."
Granger raised her hand again. Evidently, no one else knew, or at least no one else bothered to raise their hand.
Professor O'Shire beamed. "Alright, then Miss Granger. You appear adamant to share your own explanation on mabapies… please, take it away,"
Granger put that annoying haughty smirk on, and took a breath. "The mabapie is a close cousin to that of a boggart, however, instead of transforming into a person's fears, it instead turns into the beast that it thinks would be most likely beat the person it faces. It can then inflict any damage upon the person that the beast it imitates can. Fortunately, it can be trained to turn into a certain beast when called upon as one. Often used for Auror trainings… but I haven't ever heard of it being used for classroom study. Unlike boggarts, it is often just as powerful as the beast it imitates… that can be very dangerous—"
"Do you think that your intelligence is no match for a beast, Granger? Are you frightened that something might insult your nonexistent 'dignity?'" leered Draco. She glared heatedly at him.
O'Shire glanced uncomfortably from Draco to Granger. "Er—Miss Granger," said O'Shire. "With the mabapie… perhaps you know about a—"
"Of course!" shouted Granger. "Like the boggart, the mabapie can be warded off with one simple spell. Trankkulous. It causes the mabapie to fall over, defeated, and asleep. Once it is asleep, it turns into a harmless ball of smoke… wizards can also learned how to summon the mabapie back to a specific place… once it has been defeated…"
"Exactly, five points to Gryffindor. And just as Miss Granger pointed out, the mabapies can be thrust back to a specific place, once they change back." The witch waved her hand towards a row of half a dozen black wooden boxes behind her desk on the window ledge. Covering every square inch of each of the boxes was an ancient looking scripture engraved into the box, and painted over in a sort of damask coloured paint. "Professor Flitwick lent me these boxes for the year. Specifically meant for Mabapies and Boggarts. Anything can get into them, but once the box is closed, nothing can escape from them, unless removed by something else…"
She walked over to the set of boxes, "I will pass one around, so that everyone can get a good look, but I must ask you to not try and open them… I have the key, but it does not mean—"
CLUNK.
"Oh my," Professor O'Shire's cumbersome sleeve got in the way, and had pushed one of the mabapie boxes onto the ground. She awkwardly picked it back up, and examined it. "Silly thing's made of wood… oh well, its not too damaged… it will be alright." A small, yet noticeable splint of wood had begun its formation where the box made contact with the floor. "Erm—perhaps it would be best, if I did not pass the mabapie container around right now… you all can see what it looks like from your seats—"She placed the box back onto the ledge and looked around at the class.
"And as I presume that you all know you should not use the simple trankkulous charm to send the mabapie on its way during class time… you must use any other charms and spells you would see fit for the destruction of the beast the mabapie mocks. This, also, will send it back into its container—oh… I nearly forgot to mention… trankkulous can indeed be used if the defender cannot come up with a good enough spell to defeat it, and their partner is in danger… however, you will not move onto the next level of defense for that day, if you do decide to take use this way," O'Shire smiled sheepishly. "Can you imagine what would happen if I forgot to mention that? Some of you would have ended up in the hospital wing, perhaps baring a little more than cuts and bruises… maybe some of you would have even ended up in the mourge…" she mumbled the last part, so that it was barely even audible to those students in the front.
"You mean, this maba—whatever can actually kill us?" Draco sneered.
"Er—potentially, yes… but worry not, young man. I will be watching each of the groups as carefully as I can, to make sure that no one is harmed…"
"Oh, and I'm sure you'll be a big help," said Draco, not even making the effort to hide the scorn in his voice.
"Yes, I certainly hope to be," she said, taking no notice to his sarcasm.
Blaise stifled yet another laugh, as O'Shire continued to discuss the activities planned for the year. When only five minutes remained in the period, she picked up the attendance sheet, once again.
"Now," she pulled an odd looking crimson quill from the pocket of her robes. "It's time to choose partners for the course."
Draco looked at Blaise, and they nodded to each other in understanding. Everyone else around the room also began speaking in light whispers.
"Right then," O'Shire sat in her desk, and set the attendance down before her. She then stood the quill up above the attendance sheet, where its tip hovered a centimetre or two from the parchment. "Oh, of course," the witch pulled an inkpot full of clear liquid from another pocket in her robes. She pulled off the cork, and dipped the quill into the liquid. Again, she allowed it to hover above the attendance sheet.
"What exactly is that?" asked Dean Thomas, referring to the quill.
"An Enchanted Quill," said Professor O'Shire. "It is going to choose your partners for you."
"And why can't we do that ourselves?" asked Blaise.
"The Quill knows best, Mr.—Zabini."
Draco watched anxiously, hoping that he wouldn't end up with a Gryffindor… or Pansy.
"Enervate" The quill sped around the page, until it made two distinct X marks onto the parchment. "Ah—our first partners are… Parvati Patil, and Pansy Parkinson. Whoa, that's a lot of P's."
O'Shire continued to repeat the process, every time the quill landed on two different names, Draco became more and more uneasy. Longbottom was paired with Potter, good. He wouldn't have to worry about dealing with either one of them. Ron was paired with Seamus. That was good, as well. He sat in his chair, listening to the rest of the pairings. But when Blaise was paired with Thomas, Draco did not even want to think about who was left. He loathed every other person in that classroom.
"Draco Malfoy," he attempted to appear calm… "and—Hermione Granger. Well, that was the last pair—"
"What!" Draco stood up, quickly glancing over to Granger. Her mouth hung open, all of the colour had drained from her face.
"What, what?" asked Professor O'Shire, clearly confused to why a student would decide to stand up and shout in front of the entire classroom.
"I refuse to be with that—"
"One moment, please, young man. Class is dismissed. Everyone, have a nice first day! No homework, for tonight…"
As the rest of the students started to clear out of the room, Draco walked up to O'Shire's desk. He was not surprised to see that the Mudblood had decided to stay after, as well. She walked over to the opposite end of the desk, so as to be as far away from Draco as possible.
"Good bye!" O'Shire called, cheerfully, to the rest of the class. Then she walked over to the papers she had spilled at the beginning of the period, and began to pick them up. "Now… it appears that you have a problem with the person you are partnered with, Mr… what was it, again?"
"Her—" Draco pointed at Granger, the disgusted look on his face made it appear as though Granger where a filthy cockroach that had just walked out from underneath the desk she stood next to.
"Mr. Her?"
"No! my name is Malfoy… I cannot work with her!"
"Professor O'Shire, I must agree with him… for once. Malfoy and I have never been on good terms… I think it would be best if we were paired with different people…" Granger knelt down beside Professor O'Shire and began to help her pick up the rest of the loose parchment.
"I cannot change the groups. They have already been decided…"
"But Professor, I do not know if it would even be… safe if Malfoy and I were paired together. He might… choose not to save me during these partnership exercises…"
"Damn right, I wouldn't save that Mudblood—"
"I hardly think there is any reason for such foul language Mr. Malfoy." said O'Shire, picking up the last of the papers and piling them back onto the desk.
"But don't you see?" said Granger, too eager to even scowl at Draco's name calling. "We should not be partners…"
"As I have stated, the groups cannot be changed,"
"Why not?" asked Draco through clenched teeth. He was becoming more and more annoyed by the second.
"Because it would not be fair to the other students, obviously. And because the Enchanted Quill has decided that you two shall work together … I cannot change that… see?" She showed them the attendance sheet. Each pair of students had colour matching X's before their names. "You see? You, Mr. Malfoy, you have a sort of goldenrod coloured X next to your name, which matches your goldenrod X, Miss Granger… And see here, Mr. Finnegan and Mr. Weasley each have red X's before each of their names. That is how we know who is who's part—"
"I can see that, but why can you not just—"
"Perhaps the Quill heard your remark towards Miss Granger before, and thought that the two of you needed a challenge. I cannot blame it for wanting to teach you a lesson on how to treat people with proper respect…"
"A quill can't hear things! And even if it could, it can't make 'educated' decisions in attempt to test the morale of students…"
"I find that a fairly strange comment coming from a boy who attends a school that uses a talking hat to decide which house to place each student in." said Professor O'Shire.
"Evidently, this quill has no idea what it is doing… I suggest you retire it for a new one…" said Draco animatedly.
"This quill is new…"
"Please Professor! Just ask it again…" started Granger.
"I'll have to go through the entire list again… and you two have classes to go to—"
"Just do it!" said Draco, absolutely at his wits last end.
"Al-alright… there is no reason to get angry…" Professor O'Shire repeated the entire process, once more of dipping the Enchanted Quill into the clear inkpot. Each time she shouted "Enervate!" the quill placed each of the same partners together with each of the same colours. Finally, it marked over the already yellow-orange X's before Draco and Granger's names.
"You see?" said O'Shire. "It cannot be altered… now please, would you two go to your classes?"
Draco made sure that he was out of the room before Granger. If that twit of a teacher refused to change his partner… perhaps the headmistress would.
Well there you have it! Chapter two is finished!
Discussing the Little HBP Problem
Because of Draco's little incident in HBP, my story seemed as though it was shot… however, I am going to make the best of the situation. I suppose Snape has absolutely no chance of returning; its early on in the story, so I should attempt to be as loyal to Mother Plot as I can. Perhaps Draco convinced McGonagall, (New Headmistress), that he had changed his ways after his little show at the end of book six… either way, he has done no such thing, just yet, (changed his ways)… but that is for a different story entirely, and this story was already running before HBP, so I am sorry for the slight inaccuracy. Also, in my fic, most of the characters are taking their N.E.W.T.S. courses. This is where the plot gets a bit dodgy. I started this chapter before HBP as well, and I hope this outlook on everyone attending similar classes doesn't irritate any readers.
If anyone is offended or annoyed by that possible slight inaccuracy or any other inaccuracies pertaining to the students' classes, then I am sorry. Its not going to change though! Maniacal laughter Did I mention that there was also going to be a complex with Hermione and Ron? Maybe I thought that was a given… I didn't mention that there was going to be a bit of Harry/Luna too. Just a bit… it wont rule the story. This is a Hr/D, remember? Have patience.
PS- Thanks for those of you that reviewed!
LilyEvans0- I'm really glad that someone agrees with me on the vindictive Draco thing! I think that there should be an entire section in dedicated to his cruelty! Sigh…
ProphetCassandra- You'd be better off reading this than not, because if you decided not to, you would hear about it from me! Keep watching the telly before you sleep, just to be safe.
Review, if you so desire. Creative criticism and compliments happily accepted!
-Becca