Harry had a horrible crick in his neck all the next day from sleeping in the oversized chair in the common room. It was normally very comfortable to sit in, but no one should ever have to sleep curled up like a cat.

He was very grumpy as he changed into his robes the next morning. He looked for his wand; he had lost it yesterday in the fight with Ron, and didn't have the opportunity to look for it since they were kicked out of the room.

Ron walked into the room, also looking very grumpy and tired. Harry felt a sharp stab of resentment; Ron wasn't the one who had to sleep in the common room, after all. He was hunched over and had dark circles around his eyes. He was also muttering something to himself under his breath.

"Oh," he said lazily as he spotted Harry.

"Oh," said Harry, mimicking him.

Ron turned a deep shade of purple. He looked away, still mumbling, and went to collect his old books.

"Have a good night?" Asked Harry bitterly, still searching. Already, the year was starting to look tiring.

"Look, Harry," said Ron, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I'm really sorry about what happened…yesterday. I heard it
from Pansy and she was…you know…being Pansy…and I just sort of—"

"Forget about it, it's no big deal," said Harry. He was used to being beaten up anyway.

Ron couldn't really tell if he was being sincere or not.

"So what happened?"

"What?" asked Ron.

"With Hermione? Last night?"

"Oh," said Ron, suddenly looking very depressed. "She says we have to tell my mum."

Harry was suddenly very glad that he was not Ron. He liked Mrs. Weasley, but he was very afraid of her also. He hated to think what would happen if it had been him.

"So, when are you telling them?"

"Well, Hermione and I have to talk to Snape…" He shuddered. "We have to have permission to leave the school grounds for a weekend. Then we have to come up with some way to get the Grangers to the Burrow without being too obvious about what's going on…"

Harry cracked a smile.

"Why don't you just write them a letter or something?"

Ron rolled his eyes again. "No, Hermione says that we have to show them that we're 'responsible adults', and that means telling them in person. I know she's not worried, no one's going to be mad at her…she's the girl…"

Ron stood there in the center of the room, scared stiff. Harry had a feeling he was imagining Mrs. Weasley's expression in his head.
They left the common room and walked down towards the Great Hall. He was very aware that people were looking at them and pointing. He tried to remain as straight faced as possible, but it was hard when a bunch of younger girls kept looking at him and bursting into fits of hysterical giggles.

When they walked into the Great Hall, Hermione was already sitting at the table. A huge crowd of girls, ones from every house, surrounded her; all of them were talking among each other adamantly, glancing at Hermione occasionally. A few of the girls were talking to Hermione, including Ginny and Luna.

As Harry approached, some of the girls stopped and started to whisper in even lower voices.

"I already told you!" Shouted Hermione, glaring at them.

Ron was looking sour again because the girls were all staring at Harry instead of him; he obviously wanted credit for his work.

"So Harry," said Lavender. "Hermione's not telling us anything. Maybe you could spare us some details."

Harry glanced at Ron and cleared his throat.

"Hermione and I are not having a baby," he said, glaring at them, with a 'and-that's-the-end-of-the-matter' tone in his voice. The girls all looked disappointed.

"But you should talk to Ron, though," he finished, sitting down.

The devilish shine came back into the girls' eyes.

"HARRY!" Shouted both Ron and Hermione.

A couple of the girls ran off down the Great Hall, looking for their friends. Harry didn't care; Neville, Seamus, Dean, and Ginny all knew and if it didn't get spread around now, it would later.

Suddenly, everybody in the Great Hall went quiet. Snape was standing at the front of the Great Hall, looking stern, pale, and angry as usual.

"Good morning," he said in his cold, drawling voice. Harry had a feeling that Snape had never wished someone 'good morning' before in his entire life. "Today you will begin your classes…"

Harry tuned out Snape's voice and started to remember the night before at the sorting, when Snape suddenly got up and announced himself the headmaster in the unfortunate event of Dumbledore's death…

Thinking of Dumbledore caused him to feel a sharp jab of pain…

"…and I'm sure all of you will be more than willing to obey these rules."

Harry wondered for a moment if maybe he should have been listening to the rules…

A few of the Slytherins clapped as he disappeared from the front of the room with a swish of his cloak. Some of the other Slytherins looked sour; in fact, most of the students looked sour.

"What'd he say?" Harry asked Ron.

Hermione scowled. "He said that they're in the process of making the consequences of rule breaking more severe."

"What does that mean?"

"It means," said Ron. "That if you, Hermione, or me even step on one of the school flowers we're going to be expelled."

"This is the worst thing that's ever happened to us," said Hermione in a monotone voice.

"Right, worse than getting pregnant when you're sixteen?" asked Ron.

Hermione glared at him with the utmost contempt.

"Well…at least Voldemort is gone," said Harry bitterly. "That's something."

"I just still wish we had our headmaster, nonetheless…" said Hermione, trailing off.

Ron stared at his cereal, frowning. "It doesn't really make much sense, though…I mean, I thought you were supposed to defeat Voldemort…"

Harry shrugged. He didn't really understand it either. The words but he will have powers that the dark lord knows not…trailed through his brain. Was Dumbledore supposed to be the power Voldemort didn't know about? But surely Voldemort had known about him and Dumbledore…Harry loved Dumbledore…

Harry, Hermione, and Ron walked to their first class, Potions. They were all very excited; they had never experienced a Potions class without Snape before.

Their new professor, Madam Galadra, was a very tall, white haired woman. She was very young; a lot younger than any of the other professors. Seamus, Dean, and Neville were all sitting at the very front of the room, staring at her with blank expressions.

She reminded Harry of Fleur Delacour, except her hair had no pigment in it at all, and her skin glowed white. She had a very long nose and wide, staring eyes. For a moment, she stopped being beautiful and looked a little frightening.

He noticed that the Slytherin boys were also staring at her and wondered if maybe she was part Veela too. Even some of the girls were looking at her, as if wondering if some spell could make their skin glow.

Ron was very interested in the new teacher too; Hermione slapped his shoulder and glared at him.

They sat down at a table close to the back. The Potions room looked very different without Snape in it; suddenly, it wasn't as dark, and the usual assortment of jars with gross-looking things inside were mostly cleared away. Hermione and Harry traded uneasy looks. They wondered what the class was going to be like now.

"Good morning," said Madam Galadra in a very quiet, flowing voice. The boys drooled. Somewhere next to him, Harry could hear Hermione hitting Ron again. "This morning we will be making Invisibility potions. The ingredients are on the board," she said, waving her wand. The instructions appeared.

"I must warn you that these potions are nowhere near powerful enough to make yourselves invisible, so unless you want a very uncomfortable stomach ache, I wouldn't test it on each other.

"If you have any questions, I will be at my desk. Feel free to ask me for anything…"

The class started whispering each other, unsure of what would be going on in this class. They didn't know if they would be allowed to talk…Snape had never allowed them to do anything…

The door opened behind them as soon as Harry started to get out his cauldron. Professor McGonagall was standing in the doorway, looking more tight-lipped than usual.

"Madam Galadra, may I borrow Mr. Potter and Miss. Granger for a moment?"

The class started to snicker. Ron looked angry again as Hermione and Harry walked out the door. He looked like he was about to follow, but decided he might as well wait until he knew what McGonagall really wanted.

The professor closed the door, still looking stern.

"I heard a very unpleasant rumor today in the headmaster's office, Potter. I sincerely hope I was misinformed."

"No!" said Harry. "Not me!"

"What?" said McGonagall, narrowing her eyes. She stared at Hermione for a moment. Hermione didn't say anything, only stared at the floor, blushing.

"Who, then?"

"Ron," muttered Hermione.

"Mr. Potter," said Professor McGonagall, suddenly looking much angrier. "You may go back to class. If you would be so kind, please send out Mr. Weasley."

Harry headed back through the door. Ron looked pale.

"McGonagall wants to see you, Ron." He knew that the three things that scared Ron the most were spiders, Mrs. Weasley, and Professor McGonagall.

"Bloody hell," muttered Ron, getting up slowly. The girls behind them giggled.

He headed out the door that McGonagall was holding open, glaring at him. It shut sharply.

"YOU TWO ARE PREFECTS!" McGonagall shouted. The rest of the class suppressed their laughter as best they could. The old professor might as well have not shut the door at all.

"I OUGHT TO WRITE TO YOUR MOTHER THIS INSTANT…"

The voice trailed away as the three walked away down the corridor, McGonagall yelling all the way. Harry stared around at the rest of the class. They were looking at him and whispering to each other.

Madam Galadra acted like nothing had happened. She was helping Neville, who wasn't paying attention to her words in the least, with the complicated potion. Seamus and Dean were also watching her, marveling at how close she was.

Harry was rummaging through his things, searching for his vile of crushed tortoise shell. He figured at last that he must have left it in his trunk in all the fuss of looking for his wand.

He got up from his spot, went to Madam Galadra, and waited for her to stop talking to Neville.

"Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Potter?"

In spite of himself, he blushed.

"Er…I um, left my tortoise shell in my dormitory. May I borrow some?"

"Certainly," she said, writing instructions on a piece of parchment for Neville. "There's some in the Potions closet. You're welcome to get some yourself…I'm sorry if it's a little dirty, I haven't had time to clean it yet."

He looked nervously at what had been Snape's prized Potions closet, feeling uneasy. He wasn't really used to having Madam Galadra for a professor.

He went into the potions closet. It was still very old and dusty, like it had been when Professor Snape was their teacher. He searched the stacked wooden shelves quickly, having the unpleasant feeling that the greasy-haired git was still watching him.

A gnarled wooden basket sat on a small wooden stool in the corner of the room; next to it was an old blackened desk. On the desk was a piece of newsprint, and he recognized the very dark, sharply curved letters that were professor Snape's. It was a crossword; Harry had a hard time believing that Snape would ever do anything as normal as finish a crossword.

On the bottom of the note, there was something written in what Harry recognized was pencil. Nobody at Hogwarts used pencils, they all used quills.

Dearest Snivellus,
That doesn't bother you, does it Professor?
Love, Lioness

Harry stared at the letter for a moment, not really understanding why any person in their right mind would write something like that to Snape. Lioness, he thought, staring at it. Who in the world is Lioness?

He suddenly realized that he had spent far too much time in the potions closet. He grabbed the vile of tortoise shell, and darted out of the room.

Madam Galadra didn't even notice as he walked past, and Hermione and Ron hadn't returned.