A/N: Thank you everyone that's reviewed, it really means a lot to me. Here's the next installment!
Chapter 5: Classes and CalamitiesHarry groaned as he came awake. He blinked sleepily and turned his face away from the window, a grunt of pain coming from him as he did so – he felt as though he'd pulled every muscle in his body. He turned over onto his stomach slowly and buried his head underneath his pillows, wincing when his lip came into contact with the sheets. Nuh, don't wanna get up, he thought groggily. What time is it? He freed an arm from the nest he'd made of the covers and fumbled for the side table, grabbing his glasses and timepiece. Once he got everything sorted, he checked the time and felt his eyes grow wide. Oh no fucking way, he thought, an adrenaline spike shooting through him. I'm so dead. He had twenty minutes till his first class and he still didn't know what his schedule looked like. Holy hell. Oh hells bells. Harry flew out of bed, muscles screaming in protest, but he ignored them. He flew around the room, throwing on a clean robe, tossing the contents of his trunk everywhere in a frantic search for his deodorant, praying it would be enough to hide the fact that he hadn't had a shower for two days. He finally found it – and of course it was at the bottom of his trunk, how the hell did it get there? Oh, fuck it, then grabbed his rucksack and headed towards the door when he was ready. He grabbed the latch and pulled – but door didn't budge. Harry stared at the offending handle and tried again. And again. This is just fucking great, he thought a bit hysterically. What – how am I gonna - He swore viciously and reached for his wand, resisting the urge to slap himself on the forehead. You're a wizard, damn it! Think like one!
"Alohomora!" he said quickly. He tried the latch again, but the door only groaned and didn't budge. "Shit. Shit shit shit. Alohomora you bloody piece of shit!" he tried again but the door stayed stuck. "Finite incantatum! Open sesame you blasted hunk of wood! Open the fuck up!" He was shouting now, but he didn't care. Harry kicked the door and then swore even more viciously when he bruised his toes. He could almost feel the adrenaline pounding through his veins. "Ok. Ok calm down. Think, damn it, think." He looked around quickly, mind racing at a thousand miles an hour. How the hell am I supposed to get out of here? It's not like I can – oh you bloody idiot! Your broom!
Harry frantically searched through his things, looking for his Firebolt. He found it quickly enough, unshrunk it and opened his window as far as it would go. He eyed the frame, for once thankful for his small height. He peered over the edge – thank God I'm not scared of heights, he thought as he got onto his broom. He secured his pack tightly to his body and started to edge his way out of the room. Holy freaking neon yellow sea monkeys! he swore as his back scraped along the edge of the window seal. It was a close fit – but he got through, barely. He took off for the main entrance of the school, diving quickly once he was clear of the window and skimmed along the ground, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. With luck, no one will see me, he thought and smiled wryly. With luck. But it seemed as though luck was indeed with him that morning as he got to the entrance of the Great Hall without being seen. He quickly shrunk his broom and stuffed it into his rucksack as he entered, glancing around to see if anyone noticed his disheveled appearance. Luckily, there was barely anyone in the Great Hall, just a smattering of a few upper years who didn't have class right away following breakfast.
Harry went to the end of the Gryffindor table and found his schedule in a pile with a few others – covered in oatmeal and pumpkin juice. Lovely, he thought sourly, the day just gets better and better. He murmured a quick cleaning spell over the parchment and eyed the schedule, looking for his first class. He read the parchment twice before a small, disbelieving smile flitted over his face. Well, it's official. I'm dead. Potions first, with the Slytherins no less; he couldn't believe his luck. Harry checked the time and saw that he had exactly seven minutes to get to the dungeons. He took a deep breath and let it out. I can do this. I can. He nodded to himself once, sharply, and then took off running like a bat out of hell. Maybe, just maybe I'll make it, he thought in between panting for breath. Right. Sure you will. Harry snarled at the snide voice in his head. Oh shut up. He put on an extra burst of speed, dodging around some loitering students. He could hear their startled exclamations as he sped off, but he paid no attention to them. Longer legs would be good – right – about – now, he huffed, feeling a stitch form in his side. He skidded to a stop in front of the Potions class door, damn, it's closed – he's already there, and eased it open, praying that he might be able to slip in without being noticed.
" – Shrinking Solution, in order to test how much you've forgotten over the summer. Now - " Snape paused, his attention drawn to the small figure trying to ease quietly through the door. "Ah, Mr. Potter. Just what do you think you're doing?" Snape's deadly soft voice dripped with venom. All eyes were turned to him and Harry fought to keep from blushing. Snickers could be heard coming from the other students – and not just the Slytherins either. Snape looked highly irritated that Harry had had the audacity to interrupt his class. Yup, I'm dead alright, Harry thought with a sinking feeling lodging in the pit of his stomach.
"I'm sorry, Professor. There was a – problem," Harry fumbled for an answer, not elaborating, knowing Snape wouldn't care for his excuses anyhow.
"And just what – problem – could make you late for class Mr. Potter? Do tell. We're all dying to know," Snape sneered at him. Harry gulped and looked at the ground. The Slytherins giggled and whispered behind their hands at Harry being put on the spot. "I'm disappointed in you Mr. Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor and a detention. I'll thank you not to be late to my class ever again, or next time you'll lose a twenty points. Is that understood?" Snape snarled. Harry nodded quickly, keeping his eyes on the ground in front of him. "Yes, sir," he said quietly, trying to control his voice. Don't look up. Don't look up. If he sees that your angry he'll just take more points, and you're already in enough shit with the House as it is. Snape glared at him for a moment and Harry could almost feel the hate from the stare burn a hole into his skull.
"You'll be in the back, Mr. Potter, seeing as you're late. You'll have to do the potion by yourself," Snape continued, flicking his hand to indicate the poorly lit back table in the corner. Harry nodded and edged his way to the table, happy that it was on the Gryffindor side of the room. He put his rucksack on the table and collapsed on his stool. "Now, get to work!" Snape called out and Harry felt a moment of panic. What? Which potion where they making? Harry made himself look as though he were getting out supplies from his bag as he glanced around the room, trying in vain to catch someone from Gryffindor's eye so they might indicate which potion they had to make. Harry could see that something was written on the board, but he was too far away from it to make it out. Neville was passing his desk on the way to get ingredients when he let drop a piece of parchment. Harry picked it up and watched as Neville didn't even slow down as he passed. Shrinking Solution. Page 159. Harry stared at Neville's back then at the parchment, a small smile breaking over his face before he could help it. Maybe I'm making mountains out of molehills, Harry thought as he set up his cauldron. Maybe it is just Ron being a fool and the rest of the House shining him on. Harry tried to think positively and opened his book to the necessary page. Daisy roots, leech juice, rat spleen…the list went on. Harry went and gathered his ingredients, somehow managing to trip or stumble over something every three feet as he made his way to where the supplies were. If I keep this up, I'll be blushing all day, Harry thought hotly as he tried to calm himself down. He gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the twitters that were erupting throughout the room. Ignore them, just – ignore them. As quickly – and carefully – as he could he brought the ingredients back to his desk and set to preparing them as quickly as possible. There was a reason why they often worked in pairs during regular Potions classes – Harry would have to work quickly if he wanted to get the potion done in time.
Ok, so – daisy roots, chopped, added to the rat spleen and then mix in the sliced caterpillar…wait! No! Shit, I have to add in the skinned shrivelfig first – you dork! Harry was already in the motion of tossing in the sliced caterpillar when he noticed his mistake. He managed to stop all but a few slices from mixing into the potion and he shrank back from the cauldron, waiting for an explosion. When none was forthcoming, he opened his eyes carefully, first checking to see if Snape had noticed his mistake. Thankfully the older man was in the front of the classroom, berating Dean and Lavender on something they had done wrong. Harry peered at his potion, noticing that it had turned faintly yellow and wondered if that was bad. He sighed and grabbed the shrivelfig, skinning it quickly and adding it to the potion. You would think, that after all the bloody books on Potions that the Headmaster sent this summer, I'd be able to remember something about the blasted subject, Harry thought gloomily. There were some things people just weren't good at, and Harry decided that Potions was the subject he'd just never conquer. Maybe if that greasy git would explain things once in a while I might understand it all, Harry mused. As he added the shrivelfig, the mixture bubbled and steamed ominously and Harry sighed. That can't be good, he thought mournfully. Snape's gonna kill me. As if his thought had conjured the Potions Master – oh, that'd be a scary talent to have. And bad. Very, very bad – Snape stormed up to Harry's desk and peered over the edge of the cauldron. His face twisted into an ugly sneer as he surveyed the ruins of Harry's potion.
"Mr. Potter. As usual, you've lived up to my dismal expectations of your ability to brew potions. Did you pay any attention in class during your third year? Even Mr. Longbottom managed to brew this potion correctly – a most astounding feat, as I'm sure you all know. Well, do you have anything to say for yourself? Would you care to explain to me just exactly how a fifth year like yourself is incapable of brewing a third year potion that should be simple and easy to make?" Snape taunted him. Harry felt yet another humiliating blush spread across his features. And to think I commiserated with you for a moment, Harry thought angrily at the tall man looming over him. I'll never understand your blimey, greasy, ugly old self, Harry snarled mentally, but forced his eyes to remain on the table, knowing his anger and embarrassment was evident on his face.
"Ahh, nothing to say for yourself then? What a shame," Harry swore the man loved baiting him every chance he got, just to see what he would do, how far he could push the Boy-Who-Lived. "You have just earned yourself another detention, Mr. Potter. Congratulations. See me after class," and the Potions Master swept away. Oddly enough, Harry's first reaction was to think, is that all? He's not going to take House points? Harry eyed the man suspiciously, as did some of his other Housemates. He felt as though he would never understand the tall, lanky man sometimes – not, he thought to himself, that I ever really wanted to anyhow. Harry just sighed and rubbed his temple, feeling his almost ever-present headache arriving. As the Potions class came to an end, Harry dutifully dumped out his ruined potion and tucked his quill and ink back inside his pack. He watched Ron and Hermione leave the room wistfully, noticing neither of them looked once in his direction. Neville sparred him a small smile, before he was swept away by Dean. Seamus waved a little and Harry smiled back at him, then turned to face a classroom full of Slytherins. Harry felt a wave of unease wash over him – he seemed to be the center of attention for one long moment before the rest of the class filed out. Strange, Harry shivered. Very strange. He grabbed his pack and made his way up to the front of the room, where Snape was waiting for him, seated behind his desk. Harry stopped just in front of the imposing desk, eyeing the tabletop, fighting his natural reaction to clench his hands in his robes and fiddle with them. He'd never been very good at keeping still under pressure – he'd always had the tendency to fidget.
"Mr. Potter, you have detention for the next two nights. You will serve them here, at eight pm sharp, is that understood?" Snape said in a surprisingly business-like manner. Harry glanced at the Potions Master in surprise – he had been expecting biting sarcasm and hateful insults, not this almost – normal tone of voice. He nodded carefully, eliciting a sharp look from Snape.
"Yes, sir," Harry said quickly. Snape just looked at him sourly. He wrote a pass, gave it to Harry and dismissed him with a flick of his hand.
"Get out of my sight, Potter. I have a class to teach," Harry nodded and hurried out of the classroom as the next was filing in. He never noticed Snape's lingering gaze as he left the room, or the small furrow that appeared between the man's brows. If he had, Harry would have run for the hills – Snape being kind, hell, even worried about him had to be a sign of the apocalypse, it just had to be.
Harry's next class was Transfiguration, which was thankfully not that far away from the dungeons that year. He hurried a bit, but managed to make it to class on time. As he made his way to his usual seat that he shared with Ron, Harry noticed that his seat was taken by Hermione. Indeed, it seemed as though all the seats from Gryffindor were taken. Harry slid into a desk in the very last row, looking down at the scarred wood quickly. It was McGonagall's policy to assign people's seat based on where they sat on the first day of classes. Harry snorted to himself quietly. If this keeps up, I'll be partnerless for the whole bloody year, he thought sadly. McGonagall entered a few moments later and let her gaze sweep through the room, pausing for a moment at the odd seating arrangement. She assumed the boys were still angry about whatever they falling out was last night. She suppressed an irritated sigh – but children will be children and boys will be boys, was what her mother always used to say. They would work it out on their own, well enough, she decided. Best that I not get involved.
"Today class, we will be reviewing the lessons we covered last year …" And so the first Transfiguration class of the year began with it's normal routine of note taking and review. Harry found himself, for once, actually enjoying the review session. He could relate to the work even more now, ever since he'd started his own study of the art of transfiguration over the summer. He hummed softly under his breath as he took down his notes, thinking to himself that perhaps for once he would be able to give Hermione a run for her money for top marks in a class. Wouldn't that put a bee in her bonnet, Harry thought smugly. It'd serve her right too. Harry sighed as he glanced around the room. This – this – nonsense – has to blow over soon. It just has to. He rubbed his eyebrow absently, scratching down a few more lines of notes, noting the pages that Professor McGonagall was mentioning. Maybe I'll skip lunch and talk to the Headmaster, he thought. His stomach – having not eaten yet – had other plans though. It let out a loud growl just as class was ending and Harry resisted the urge to slam his head down on the desk in front of him. What god did I piss off? He was going to die of mortification before he could get his revenge on Voldemort – it must be the Dark Lord's new, diabolical plan for the year. Kill the Boy-Who-Lived off with embarrassment – and even better – Voldemort wouldn't have to raise a finger to do so! Harry would do all the work for him! Snickers and twitters rang out through the room, and even McGonagall paused in her lecture to peer back at him curiously. Harry scrunched down in his seat, trying to hide behind Lavender and Neville who were sitting in front of him.
The class, however intriguing and interesting Harry might have found it, couldn't come to an end soon enough. He was starving, and he wanted food. Immediately. As Professor McGonagall ended her lecture, Harry threw his things into his bag, meaning to head to the Great Hall, and subsequently lunch, all the sooner. The Professor foiled his plan, though, and he turned reluctantly back at her summons.
"Yes ma'am?" Harry asked politely. She stared at him for a moment, and as always, her stern glance always left him feeling as though he must have done something wrong and that she was going to find out about it.
"Yes, Mr. Potter. About your detention. Seeing as I have a rather – pressing – obligation to attend to on Friday evening, your detention will be moved to Thursday evening at eight pm. Is that clear?" He nodded quickly, wondering if the 'obligation' she had to meet was really an Order meeting. He glanced at her closely for a moment – but he just couldn't imagine his head of House as a member of a secret organization that fought against one of the darkest evils the wizarding world had to offer. Harry knew intellectually that she more than likely was a member of the Order – it was just…she seemed too prim and proper to be a member of the Order. Too fussy. Harry had to duck his head to hide a smile at the thought of Professor McGonagall chastising Voldemort severely, finger shaking back and forth, her face absolutely livid, and the Dark Lord standing in front of her, head down, having an abashed, naughty look on his face. Oh, yeah. I need food and sleep. In that order. One I can remedy – the other'll have to wait. "You may go, Mr. Potter." He nodded once and spun on the ball of his foot, starting off for the Great Hall briskly.
"Oh, and Mr. Potter?" her voice stopped him. He turned reluctantly and faced her. "I would like to hear nothing more about you starting any more fights with Mr. Weasley, do you understand? I will not tolerate such fighting in my House, are we clear?" Harry nodded stiffly, wanting to object. It wasn't all his fault they had been fighting. For heaven's sake – Ron had started it – well mostly. The verbal part, anyhow. Harry spun back around and hurried from the room, smelling the aromas of lunch calling him. Oh, how he was hungry. He felt like he could eat a horse. He came to the doors of the Great Hall and slipped through them, making his way towards the middle of the table. As he neared, the open spot between Dean and Fred disappeared, as did the other open spots around George and Anglina, Lavender and Parvati. Harry stumbled a bit as he came to a halt, watching his House slide together to exclude him from their ranks. He turned and looked at Fred, who only gave him a cold look and turned back to his conversation with Katie. Ron turned and saw Harry standing still as a rock in the middle of the aisle.
"What're you looking at?" Ron asked snidely. Harry blinked owlishly at the redheaded boy. He shook his head slightly.
"Nothing," Harry murmured and walked down the aisle to the end of the Gryffindor table. He heard murmurs and laughter from the middle of the table, as well as a buzz coming from the other tables, all of them undoubtedly remarking on the rift that was present in the House. Harry loaded his plate up numbly – not really noticing what he was eating, just doing so mechanically. He kept his eyes on his plate, not daring to look up, not wanting to see disgust – or worse – pity in anyone's eyes. He hated pity. He wolfed down his food and bolted from the Hall as fast as he could.
He made his way to the library, having a good amount of time to kill between then and his next class, which was DADA. Harry wrapped his robes around himself, feeling cold all the way through. He walked through the halls quickly, turning down side passageways when he saw people coming in the other direction. He didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment – not until he had gotten himself under control. He managed to make it all the way to the library without meeting a single soul, and once he was there, he tucked himself away in a corner table, away from the door, hidden behind several stacks of books. There he let himself slump onto the chair, head falling forward with a loud thunk on the tabletop. No tears came, though. He held those back, just barely. He'd had enough crying for one week, thank you very much. Still, he sniffed and wiped surreptitiously at his face, not acknowledging the wetness on the backs of his hands as tears. He sighed and curled his legs up underneath himself, raising his head and propping it up with his hand. He stared out of the window blindly, eyes glazing over as he tracked the scenery outside. His mind was a thousand miles away – and quite comfortably numb, which was right where he wanted it to be at the moment. He sat that way for some time, not moving, breathing quietly, eyes locked onto something only he could see.
A/N: Review Responses:
Blackdragon: hehe, you'll have to wait and see =) Glad you enjoyed the chapter!
Athenakitty: have I mentioned how much I like your questions? Thanks again =)
Myk: hehe, I like leader!Draco too. Harry, well, I go back and forth on him. Sometimes I like him determined, sometimes I like him all weak and fragile. Depends on my mood =) Thanks again!
Lady FoxFire: I'm so sorry about the crappy first paragraph from ch4. Hopefully it's better now – I am not, in any way shape or form technically savvy. Hell, it took me an hour to figure out ffnet – and that's sad. If there's anymore problems, just yell and I'll try to fix it. And if I can't then I get the boyfriend to do it. Cuz that's what they're good for, and stuff.
Usagi Serenity Yui Cosmos: Ga, the 1st paragraph was a total booboo. Hopefully it looks better now =) And I'm not gonna fess up about the spy. You'll have to wait and see =D.
Relle: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it =)
Minerva-Severus-Dumbledore: Thank you!
Diana: Malfoy and family will have something to do with the reporter situation later on in the story. As for Hermione – well, there's an explaination for her attitude and all that, but it's a ways off. Thank you for your review!
Magami: Thank you! I'm glad you're liking the story!
Renee Fay: I'm glad you're enjoying the story =) thank you for the review!
MerlinHalliwell: will do =)
MajikzPawn: Ron bashing will definitely be considered ; P Thank you for the review!
Tenshi-Chikyuu: Thank you!
Fallen Dragon: hehe explainations are on their way. Thank you for the review!
Zenyel: merci beaucoup! But I think I'm scarred by the image of Ron as Filch's sex-slave….that's just…wrong //shudders//. Anyhow, I'm glad you're enjoying the story! And thank you for sticking up for me =) The author of the other fic and I just sorta laughed about the whole thing. But, thanks again!
Cheri: thank you!
James2000: Thank you for your review! Yeah, I'll make 'em grovel and crawl – but even then I'm tempted to write most of Gryffindor house off. Thanks again!
SparkySparkles: =) thank you so much for the review! And yes, this is H/D ; P
Me: eh?
Fate's Child: Thank you for the review!
Hopefully the next chapter will come out sooner! Sorry for the delay =)