The Summer's Secret

by Japhu

For one week in summer Harry disappears without trace. When he comes back he claims to have no memory. But something happened and it changed him. It remains to be seen if for the better or the worse. [AU post OotP, will be HPSS]

40. Chapter 39 : Defending Arts

Title: Harry Potter and the Summer's Secret

Author: Japhu

Beta Reader: Nagi

Pairing: HPSS

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter and his world and don't make any money with it.

Summary: For one week in summer Harry disappears without trace. When he comes back he claims to have no memory. But something happened and it changed him. It remains to be seen if for the better or the worse. (will be HPSS)

Category: action/adventure/angst

Feedback: highly appreciated

A/N: Thanks a lot for your reviews. I hope you didn't mind the long wait (and don't mind to wait just as long for the next). Writer's Block visited me and simply didn't want to leave. I'm still not sure if he's not just waiting around the corner to come back when I'm not looking… and add to that Real Life slipped in before I could close the door, so the next chapter might come alongside Santa Claus… I guess.

To all impatient spirits out there: I swear you'll see more of HPSS (lots more). It will come as soon as the plot allows it to happen. The way it looks now the actual slash will start around christmas. However, as anticipation is half the satisfaction as Hades' Phoenix said (and I agree), I'm certain you won't get bored underway.

To Julia: The way this story develops your wish might just be granted.

To Reflections: As I have read HBP already I don't mind the spoilers. If those horrid little cruxes were part of this story (which they aren't) it would still be questionable that Harry gained anything, because destroying the object would free the soul (at least if I had to write about it) and make the different parts unite with Tom, and Harry would be just where he is now (or worse). Anyway, whatever you have floating around your head I'd be glad to hear. You might not always get an answer to your reviews, but I'll always read and think about it.

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Chapter 39 – Defending Arts

Harry blinked into awareness with the sound of voices drifting by his ears. With a groan he turned around and opened and closed his eyes to get used to the light that seeped through his eyelids. Someone near him called his name, but Harry could only grunt and pull the blanket over his head. It was too bright, too loud outside. Harry began to drift off again.

"Harry!" Someone shook him and ripped the blanket off his face without a care for him.

"We have classes today, Harry." It was Ron's voice wanting him to move. Harry groaned. He would kill Ron later.

"We all slept through breakfast, Harry. If you don't get up now you'll get late!"

Harry muttered something and moved to hide under the pillow, but then he heard Seamus' voice wondering aloud.

"It's never happened that all of us slept in, guys." There was a murmur of agreement. "I have never slept as peacefully before. I think someone has secretly replaced the bed."

"Yeah, I swear I couldn't wake up before the sun was out," Dean added.

Now wondering himself, Harry rolled onto his back and moved an arm, and then a leg with a heavy sigh, and finally the rest of his body out of his bed and halted there, his bare feet hovering barely an inch above the cold stone ground before he pulled them back onto the bed.

"Ron?" Harry scrambled to the end of his bed. "Could you give me my socks, please?" Harry asked in an innocent voice and ignored the popping of his joints and his aching muscles for the moment.

"Why don't you get them yourself?"

"The ground's icy, Ron. I don't want to catch a cold." Harry reached out toward his socks he had thrown from him last night and blinked pleadingly at his friend. "Would you? Please?"

"Fine." With a roll of his eyes, Ron finally took the few steps and threw them to Harry. "Just because you're you, mate."

"Thanks, mate." There was nothing suspicious about having all his clothes thrown around the room. Harry's were not the only ones even though normally he kept them at least in a pile at the end of his bed.

"When did you and Ron get back?" He turned to Seamus, who lay on his bed and struggled into his pants in a most complicated way.

"Late. You were already snoring by then, Harry," Seamus contributed with a grin.

"I was?" He doubted that he had been snoring as Seamus put it. Harry was sore. Every muscle screamed in protest when he merely thought about moving from his halfway comfortable position. But he would have bet that someone must have heard his screams last night.

"Yeah." Seamus threw his towel against the inconspicuously and probably innocent magical watch. "This clock must be broken or something." Harry frowned. Or maybe nobody had heard. "As we'll all be late though," Seamus mused, "I don't think they'll take points from everyone."

"You want to bet?" Harry dragged himself toward just another shower to loosen up his muscles under a hot stream of water until his skin was as red as Ron's hair. When he came back, already clad in his sack-like pants and a worn out T-shirt, Ron and Dean were the only ones still there. His socks were dripping wet, but no one commented on them as Harry still looked somewhat drowsy.

"It's a pity you all miss breakfast." Ron grinned instead and Harry gazed at him, a bit more awake. Clearly Ron waited for them to ask a question.

"And you won't?" Dean did this small favor only half interested, his gaze directed at Harry.

"Nope." Ron was gloating. "I have a free lesson and I swear I'll be sitting in the kitchen eating chocolate cake the whole time." He said it and sprawled back, his arms crossed behind his head in a pose that clearly told them he had it better then they. Dean and Harry looked at each other and two pillows hit Ron in the face.

"Why are you still here, Dean?" Harry slid into his old shoes while Ron towered the pillows behind his head. Most likely they would have a pillow fight to get them back in the evening. Seamus would be furious; after all, it was his pillow Harry had thrown.

"I have Transfiguration too, Harry, so I thought we'd go together and get each only half the points taken off." Dean shrugged. "We're already late anyway so a few minutes more or less won't matter."

"No. Not to us, anyway." Harry grinned, put his robe on and gripped his bag. He always threw in everything school-related he owned. It saved time to search for his books in different places and he did not forget anything. What were they in a magical world if not to use magic? Harry turned back to Ron, grinned once and winked and reminded him to say hi to Dobby for him, and then he and Dean hurried to their first class of the week.

Their head of house was not too keen to see them this late, although Harry thought she had better be glad to see them at all. When he looked around, Harry noticed for a first that not even Hermione was with him in this class, and while he did not necessarily need her to help him, now Harry would have to play even more stupid when trying to grasp spells on his own. He and Dean sat in the back not too far away from Malfoy. Harry could hear him muttering about stupid Gryffindors being favored when each one of them only got five points taken off for their unpunctuality. He could barely refrain from snorting out loud.

Taking out his parchment and quill, Harry concentrated on what his professor said, but she just repeated every spell they had learnt last year, revising each of them very shortly, let them do it once and hurried on to the next to be ready with last years work when this class was over, so she could go on to the new stuff. With a sigh, Harry leaned back. He supposed it would go on like this in most classes this week, save DADA and potions of course. In DADA they had learnt nothing worth repeating and Snape would think that the dunderheads he taught never learnt anyway, so there would be no repeat of anything ever. Harry smirked. Potions could be fun. Harry would need to think of something to do that Snape would not forget, something that would make him exceptionally glad that Harry would not continue after this month. He would see what popped into his mind in time.

Half of class was over already when McGonagall seemed to realize that Harry's attention was slipping and he found himself being quizzed by his stern-looking professor. So Harry did his bit of wand waving when she asked, shrugged his shoulders, completely clueless, when she asked him about the peculiarities he had to take into account when changing a small object into a big animated one, and otherwise Harry kept his nose down on his empty parchment from then on and tried to look busy. Save a few doodles here and there, he had no need to take notes of anything. Harry could do those spells in his sleep. The curriculum for this year was not that hard either. Skipping through the book had not brought forth any surprising revelations, so Harry was left to ponder last night and this morning.

How he had managed to live through the summer was puzzling to him now. How could he have reached the amount of control he had then when now Harry had barely been able to keep his consciousness? He had even used his magic on Vernon, but how? Harry rolled his shoulders and grimaced. The pain was still there. He always had to keep going no matter what happened, but he really did not like it. It was disturbing to know that Hogwarts was …there, but truly disturbing was to know that it could play around with him like that. Harry had to keep going. He did not think that the castle would help Tom. If everything that happened yesterday was any indication Hogwarts did not seem to like Tom very much. However, it was of no relief for Harry. Why had it not helped him then all the times before when Tom had attacked?

Harry could not imagine to figure out what it had done to make everyone sleep through his screaming or to keep them from waking. He had screamed his throat raw for Merlin's sake, but even though every move hurt like hell, his throat was all right. He had no problems talking. There was something else still on his mind. The magic that had been swirling around their dormitory must have had an impact on all the people in the near vicinity. The powerful among the castle's residents like Dumbledore at least and also some of the teachers must have felt something, or maybe Hermione had. Harry could find more like this everywhere, but he had to keep going.

It was a very distracted Harry that finally gathered up his utensils at the end of the class and followed Dean to their next lesson for the day that would be Herbology. Somewhere along the way to the greenhouses, Neville joined the two Gryffindors. His cheeks were red and he stumbled more than once in obvious excitement. Harry shook his head when he helped the boy to his feet for a second time. There was no question that Neville could barely wait to get to the greenhouses and his hands on some obscure plant. They did not do much this time around in this class either.

The three boys were the only Gryffindors around among lots of Ravenclaws, a single Hufflepuff and a handful of Slytherins, one of them sneering at Harry in his generally stuck up attitude, his nose up in the greenhouse's ceiling. Harry hoped that Malfoy was not going to be in all of his classes. He grinned when the blond Slytherin rubbed the spot on his chest where he had been so unfortunately hit by Harry's magic lashing out. Clearly ferret face still remembered what had happened. It was a relief for now as it meant that Malfoy would keep a wide berth around him, hopefully, but then Malfoy was known to be more stupid and rash than cunning.

Herbology was downright boring today. Harry could only wonder at the devotion Neville showed when they were just cutting down a big bushy plant that was growing rampant and would shortly pierce the roof with its tentacle-like branches. Neville did not even step back when that gooey yellow substance pulsed out of the just cut tentacles before they closed off a moment later, hardening when subjected to air. Harry and Dean glanced at each other. They had not been disappointed when Neville volunteered to do this job. Funnily Malfoy was not that lucky. It was too bad that once Harry needed Colin's camera the boy was not anywhere in sight, but when he did not want the fifth year around that boy would keep tracking him like some dog sniffing out a trace.

Malfoy and his goons getting buckets full of that sticky fluid on his head was the most interesting thing that happened. Harry and Dean already gathered up their bags and moved to the exit when they realized that Neville kept back to speak with the professor. Harry thought to wait for him, but when Sprout waved him away Harry did not linger. If it was important then Neville would tell them eventually.

Lunch broke Harry out of his melancholic mood, but only because he felt the hairs in his neck rising when someone's gaze followed him to the Gryffindor table. Even then did it not wander away to watch someone more worthwhile but stayed on him even while Harry sat down next to Ron and Hermione. He gripped his fork tightly to fill his plate with some roasted chicken.

At last though, Harry had enough of being stared at and he looked up and directly into the dark narrowed eyes of a glaring Potions Master. Harry scowled just as darkly. What must Snape have felt last night? The man looked no different than before. He was always pale and gaunt-looking. He always sneered or frowned and glared at everyone. So what was it? Harry had not been stared at like that for a long time and if he had not known better he would have thought that Snape was legilimizing him. Stupid bastard. Could he not eat his lunch like everyone else? Harry raised his glass of pumpkin juice toward the man, toasted him and swallowed with a smirk. Finally the man turned away. Really, what had that been? Then Harry let his gaze wander and he frowned. Dumbledore was, for once, not staring at the Gryffindor table, but his blue twinkling gaze was watching Snape in nearly the same scrutinizing way Snape had measured up Harry. Clearly the old man was aware that Snape had, for whatever reason, taken particular interest in Harry Potter today. Harry did not doubt that they all were slowly making themselves crazy. If Harry would be anywhere else but directly under their noses when that happened it would be worth a laugh or two.

Snorting, Harry turned back to his own table and spotted Neville a few places down from him. The boy looked somewhat distraught and his gaze often flickered between his plate and the head table uncomfortably. Harry would have asked him what the matter was, but as the boy sat too far away and shouting at him would not be very helpful, Harry only frowned thoughtfully before he gave his chicken the attention it deserved.

It was only a few minutes later, they were nearly done with their lunch and ready to go on to their next class, when Hermione suddenly looked up at Ron.

"You won't forget the prefects meeting, Ron?" She stared at him indifferently, and Harry raised his head. This was news to him.

"How could I forget when you remember me of this stupid meeting every five minutes?" Ron rolled his eyes and turned back to his food. It was, in his eyes, clearly more important than what a few prefects had the need to blather about.

"When?" Harry asked simply.

"Every second Monday at five," Hermione said agreeably, relieved that someone was taking their prefect's duty seriously, even if it was not the one who should. "And Ron will be sure to attend or he'll do his homework all by himself until the next meeting."

Harry grinned and kept his silence. Ron would have no choice but to comply with her wishes, and he looked as if he knew this, because he grumbled quietly and nodded before he shoved his plate away and stood up as Hermione and Harry were long since finished with their lunch.

"You as a prefect need to set an example, Ron." Hermione frowned when she followed him.

"Yeah. Could we just talk about something else now?" The redhead turned to Harry. "I want to know what you think of that Bradowitch, Harry."

"I don't know yet, Ron. You're the one who had a lesson with him already." Harry gave Hermione an apologetic shrug but did not mind helping Ron out. One for the other, and both of them against Hermione. Harry laughed silently.

"Yeah, but do you think he's someone of the minister? Like Umbitch?"

"I doubt that, Ron. Really. It would be all over the castle by now. There'd be no way to keep that information to himself. After last year's debacle I doubt they'd let Fudge chose anyone he approves of as a teacher." Harry thought back to the scrutinizing look Brado had measured him with time and time again. "No, I don't think he's Fudge's, but he's not really as dumb a dunderhead as he wants everyone to believe," he furthered. "He's working wholly on his own agenda, or not for one we know." Harry's thoughts kept getting back to the Red Robes, but he did not say anything.

"A cross between Lockhart and Crouch then?" Ron grinned, but shuddered at the same time.

"Don't discount Umbridge, totally. Her personality traits are not that unique."

"I don't like that picture, Harry. That's gross." Ron grinned brightly nevertheless.

"Guys, we had one lesson with him." Hermione still wasn't fond of gossiping about teachers, unless it implied homework or lessons. "He might really know the stuff he's teaching." They did have that talk before. Well, now they would see what happened – or Harry would; the others already had more or less successfully.

"Yep, I think you're right." Harry grinned when both of his friends turned to watch him suspiciously. "When you don't look at his robe or his hair, think away the way he speaks and what actually comes out of that big mouth, then wash that fool grin off his face and take his way to pat everyone he walks in on the head and you might – just perhaps – be right. So I'll give you the shadow of the doubt." Ron sniggered and even Hermione could not suppress her lips twitching. "I just don't like him." Harry became serious once more. "There's something utterly wrong with him." He could not tell them that it was his magic or the feeling deep inside him, that made his stomach turn whenever that man was near him, that had him alarmed. Hermione would leap on to the trail and Ron would behave as badly toward Brado in class as in the corridors with Malfoy. It would be a bit too obvious, and Harry desperately wanted to avoid any more attention than he already had.

Harry let his friends pass through the door in front of him, and then he stepped in and blinked. Brado was already there, leaning against his desk, brightly grinning at the entering students, but that was not what caught Harry's attention. It was his robes that made him take a second look at his professor. Brado's robes had the same strange cut like the one his son had worn the first day. The stars and moons had disappeared and instead of being of a piercing bright blue they were now light blue grey robes, cool to the eyes and soothing to heated minds. Harry felt himself loosing his feelings' edge looking at them as if he had swallowed one of Aunt Petunia's valiums. Frowning, Harry shook his head. This was not right. When he concentrated Harry almost believed he saw the magic interwoven, but it hurt his eyes and head and a moment later when the man moved toward him Harry's concentration wavered and whatever he had thought he glimpsed was gone.

As soon as Brado became aware of Harry, his posture stiffened, the stupid grin broadened and he stepped up hurriedly before the boy could slip away between his friends.

"Finally, I have you in my class, my dear boy." The piercing look with which he sized up the new student gave no comfort or even the slightest cause to go hopefully into their encounter, but Harry smiled politely as it was expected.

"I missed you dearly, my boy." With a firm click Harry pressed his jaw together to keep from cursing that unbelievable person into oblivion and smiled very politely.

"Thank you, sir." Harry answered with forced serenity into the low sniggering from his classmates. He thought it would go too far to say that he had missed him just as much. Harry's eyes shone darkly and he ignored his classmates completely as he tried to get to his place.

"I'm truly glad to be finally able to teach you, my boy." Brado could not seem to leave him be. He would have shaken his hands had Harry not clasped them determinedly behind his back. "We'll work great together in this class, my boy."

"Call me Potter, please." The lesson had not even started and already he wanted to hit that man …hard. His lips pressed tightly closed. Harry joined Ron and Hermione in the last row of benches after the bell rescued him from more stupidity than he could take. Seamus and Neville, who sat in front of them, gazed questioningly back at him. The former mouthed a silent 'my boy' with obvious amusement and a roll of his eyes. Harry could not find it the least bit funny. With a look that could cut steel, Harry followed the impossible man's movement as he strutted to the front of the class to start his lesson.

"Now that we're all present this time," and the twinkling blue eyes swept over to were Harry hunched sceptically down in his seat, "we'll start with our first major project this year." He took a breath for effect, but no one reacted. Brado pulled a face and sat down behind his desk with a flourish. His gaze skimmed over every single of his sceptical students and lastly met the dazzlingly green ones of Harry Potter and held it.

"It's very important to keep your equilibrium when faced with danger," he said in a conspiratorial voice. "In a duel you have lost when you lose control of your emotions. Therefore, children," he said with a cheerful grin, "you will learn to, as it's commonly called, Listen." Murmurs rose in the class and a few snickers from the Slytherins, Malfoy amidst them, rang loudly through the room. Brado ignored it and kept watching the Harry Potter solemnly.

"The technical term to what we're going to start this double lesson is Repelucis." He smiled, good-natured. "However, that has no meaning but to make it sound harder than it is. Listening is the right word for what we're going to start this lesson." With a shake of his head Brado waited for the whispers to stop before he explained in more detail.

"It doesn't sound so terrific you think?" His bright blue eyes twinkled disturbingly.

"Sir?" It was Hermione's hand in the air, waving frantically about, a deep frown settled on her face. She spoke as soon as Brado gave her the permission with slight nod, his twinkle intensified.

"To what are we learning to …Listen, sir?"

"Now, that's a question for my likes, Ms. Granger." He rubbed his hands gleefully and even stopped staring at her green-eyed friend for a moment. "Five points to Gryffindor for keeping thinking." His eyes sought out the boy's narrowed ones. "You're going to learn to listen to your magic." He grinned as if he had accomplished a really hard prank.

Harry thought the others might hear him gritting his teeth because now it was finally quiet with expectations. Even Malfoy looked as if he was not sure if this was some bad joke to all their expense or if their fool of a professor actually meant what he said. Listening to their Magic? What a bunk! Harry concentrated on his professor's words, feeling the gaze still on him. His hands clenched tightly, Harry sat back. He hoped this lesson would be over soon.

"Before you can handle your magic to its utmost effect." Brado did not seem to notice the dark mood one of his students emanated from every pore. "You need to know how your magic works. I know you used your magical power since first year more or less successfully, but believe me when I say that not one of you is using its full potential. If you know your magic you can handle it with more care, precision and strength. You'll wonder what you'll be able to do in a short amount of time."

"Sir? I have never heard of anything like that." Hermione frowned, her distress obvious in her expression. It must rattle her foundations of belief that everything was to be found in books.

"Well, Ms. Granger, you won't find many books on this subject, I admit. Therefore it would probably be fortunate for all of you, children," he turned to the class, "to make notes now lest you fail your future assignments in this class." The man's eyes sparkled and he watched Harry Potter bend down his head over a stack of parchments, the right hand forcefully gripping his quill as if trying to break it.

"It's not generally dangerous process, but while learning something new there's always the possibility that something untoward can happen that you will have no way to prevent. So keep in mind that it's important to hold your body still – when you move while you're sensitive to your magic it can happen that, while you're still getting used to your inner power, you lose your hold on it when your magic starts coming forward. If you, say, twitch your finger your magic will have an easier outlet through this body part and you may be a finger shorter afterwards. It's similar to accidental magic that happens to small children but of course with more power and more destructive energy." He grinned with obvious amusement. "That you lose control over your magic at least once is possible to happen when you first manage to Listen successfully anyway." He winked as if that was nothing to worry about. The faces of his students became paler by the minute.

"The second important fact you always need to remember is that you must stay relaxed even when you feel the whisper of your magic and when it seems to overwhelm you. Do not become tense, because then it will probably get quite painful for you to continue, though you can't stop amidst it … you might yourself find a whole head shorter, and not even your very competent mediwitch will be able to help you then."

"Why can't we stop?" questioned a Ravenclaw right along when someone else from the back of the class muttered that it may be a tad bit dangerous for them to undertake in class."

"Don't let your horses run away, children." Brado smiled brightly. "After all, I'll be there to watch over you and I doubt that more than a handful of you are able to pull it of at the end of the year."

"Why have us do it then?" Malfoy sneered and this time Brado answered brightly.

"Because, young Mr. Malfoy, should you be among those who manage this feat successfully you'll have a very powerful tool at hand." His smile then became something different, threatening even. "So you'd do well to at least try to accomplish this, as power obviously is what you seek, is it not?"

"To know how to listen to your magic will come in value in countless situations in your life." He turned back to the class when Malfoy silently stared at him. "When you listen to your magic you'll get the utmost out of the power that was given you by nature. You'll need less sleep and heal faster. You'll become notably stronger than the average citizen of this world in magic and mind and generally you'll live in unison with nature and your life. Its benefits are tremendous. Wizards and witches who are known to do this regularly slowed even down the aging of their bodies." He smiled at Malfoy in a somewhat indulgent way that made the Slytherin stick up his nose even more. "For the beginning, Mr. Malfoy, you might find yourself feeling refreshed, and most importantly your magic will answer more easily to your bidding."

"Your question, Mr. Boot, is quite interesting, though. You ask why you shouldn't interrupt the process? Because just as you call the magic forward you need to push it down, and gently so, or it will remain just under the surface until your emotions run away with you. Happiness, anger or anything else – all extremes of feelings – make this work. Through your emotions your magic will find an outlet and the girl you were just about to kiss, Mr. Boot, will have her lips burnt. That's not the way of gentlemen, isn't it? So always finish what you begin." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and leaned back finally when he remembered where he had stopped in his explanations. He halted further questions with a sharp gesture.

"Let me finish first, children." He grinned broadly. "My memory is not that good at all. Yes?" He nodded when all the hands were taken down – even Ms. Granger's after he sent a pleading smile into her direction. "Fine. Let's come to an end with the theory before this lesson is over, shall we?" His eyes flickered toward Harry Potter, but the boy was still scribbling away whatever doodles he thought more interesting, though the stiff pose he held his body told that he listened despite of him feigning disinterest.

"The third fact to not forget when you're about to Listen is that before you even start you must have your mind set on what you want to reach, what you want your magic to do. When you firmly believe that you can do something you will be able to do it when the time is right."

"To learn how to do it correctly you need to relax your body and mind totally and you have to concentrate solely on your magic. If your mind wanders in the beginning that is nothing to worry about, just get back to your initial thoughts and let yourself become totally absorbed by your magic. Do it to the best you can. We'll start the practical side during the next lesson. Any questions for now?" He smiled brightly. "Ms. Granger?"

"Doesn't that …Repelucis sound awfully close to meditation?"

"Another five points to Gryffindor, Ms. Granger. You're a bright lass." He looked around the class, ignoring the snickers more successfully than a thoroughly embarrassed Hermione. "Does anyone know how to meditate?" No one raised his hand, but a Slytherin muttered something about stupid Muggles that Brado chose to ignore. "No? That's a pity." Momentarily his eyes lost their twinkle, but then he grinned and the bell chimed the end of the first DADA lesson.

Students run about, bent their heads together or hurried out of the class to gossip about this year's DADA professor and how long he might possibly last. For Harry the break was short and bothersome. Not once he felt relief from the boring gaze that tore into him. Half-heartedly he listened to Neville's fearful imaginations of his near future. Seamus and Ron were talking nonsense and Hermione had her nose buried in her notes to reread and memorize everything knew she had come about.

As soon as the next lesson started Brado seemed to get excited. "Now you had a few minutes to think over what you learnt today. Any more questions then? No?" He rubbed his hands gleefully. "Then let's do it. All of you close your eyes, children." All he received were blank gazes. "Close your eyes." He nodded appreciatively when the first few students followed his instruction, then he glared at those who thought him a fool. "Mr. Malfoy, if you do not happen to be part of this class feel free to go and don't bother to come back, but if you are indeed a student of this class then close your eyes now or you'll lose not only a hundred points from Slytherin, you'll fail this class with a total points of zero and a big troll for you grade once this year is over."

His eyes closed, Harry silently grinned as he listened to Brado talking that arrogant bastard down to his right size. He solemnly acknowledged all the instructions the professor gave them, but Harry would not do more than wait for the time to pass. He could still feel Brado staring at him and it was all he could do not to jump up and scratch out his eyes.

"Visualize your magic rising from its core where it was resting, imagine it flowing through your body until you can feel it in every part of your body. Feel it in you, let it come to you, call it to the surface and hold it. When you know that you're totally filled up with your magic, then open your mind and try to Listen. I don't know what you will hear. It's not words or anything like that. Magic is not a separate being; it's part of you. With time, you will find easier ways to access your magic, you'll be more aware of it and it will be easier to control. Of course, that's not going to happen from one day to the next."

Harry could hear the sound of his boots when the man walked around the room. He really doubted that even one student was doing anything but trying not to fall asleep – well, maybe Hermione and a few of the Ravenclaws. Then the steps halted next to him and the next Harry heard was the slightly disappointed voice of Brado right at his ear.

"My boy, daydreaming will not bring you closer to accomplishing this task." Harry's eyes snapped open. "The choice is yours, my boy. Choose wisely." He moved as if to pet him on the head and Harry jerked back and frowned without saying anything. He closed his eyes again and ignored the face, still hovering above him, as good as he could. However, he did not try to listen to anything. He had trouble already listening away from his magic. Harry did not need another accidental power release in this class, though he had to admit that it did sound interesting if he wanted to take for granted what the man was telling them. So the only thing Harry visualized was this stupid peacock while Harry plucked out every single one of its feathers before he stuffed them into its mouth. It was an hour of time for Harry to think of different ways to get rid of this stupid DADA professor. As far as Harry could tell, no one accomplished anything in this lesson. They sat with their eyes closed, trying to listen to whatever whisper they could catch. At one point Seamus started to snore exceptionally loud and fake and the rest of the students woke up with laughter. Through all of this Harry was under tight scrutiny, but he clenched his hands under the table and endured it until finally even Brado seemed to have enough of his endless repetitions of "imagine this" and "visualize that" to help his students in their lost task.

Collecting the homework brought better results. Ron groaned and plucked out a crumbled piece of parchment. Hermione gazed at him with silent admonishment and took it to bring it forward along with her own pile of work she had done. Harry waited to be called on, but either Brado did not care that Harry had not done any work because of his absence or he had forgotten to cross out the names in his stupid list. However, Harry would not do any homework he did not have to do.

The last thing of interest was Malfoy trying to talk out his way of neglecting to do his own part of assigned work. Ron and Harry grinned at each other when Brado beamed at the arrogant Slytherin in companionable mood.

"No reason to worry, Mr. Malfoy," he said lightly and padded the boy's hair only to frown at his hand and rub it at his robe to get the gel off. "I'll just grade you on your progress in Repelucis when we have the next lesson. Please prepare a short report to explain us the use and value and its means to accomplish it additionally." Then he waved as if to chase away an especially annoying pet and with the ring of the bell Malfoy marched out of the room, his features set angrily and his goons in his wake.

Harry was just as fast to pack his own things, but he was not fast enough. He was about to follow his friends when he found himself called back.

"My boy, please." Brado gazed down at Harry with that mad twinkle fully returned and even followed him when Harry made no sign to stop and rushed out of the classroom. Still the man managed to step into his way and Harry halted his exasperation short from breaking out.

"It was a real pleasure teaching you, my boy." Harry blinked. He was too busy staring at his professor's robes to mind that he found his hand clasped in a tight grip and shaken fervently. The robes had changed when Brado stepped out of the classroom and Harry bet that they changed back when he entered. The stars and moons were back together with the bright blending blue that made everyone avert their eyes.

"I hope you take this lesson to heart." Brado blathered on. Harry sighed heavily and finally drew back his hand when the man's grip relaxed marginally and his grin broadened. "I wish you a good day, my boy." While his gaze followed until Brado has stepped back into the classroom, Harry meant to understand a slight murmur of: "I wish he'd call me Nik." With a shudder Harry turned hurriedly and caught up with his friends.

"What did Brabitchi want now?"

"Nothing." Harry grunted. "Just being a pain."

"And what do you think of that class of his?" Ron grinned at him with a wide yawn.

"I'm not sure yet." Harry shrugged noncommittally. Outside of class Brado was a total moron, inside he was adept at what he was teaching – at least it seemed so. Although Brado still wore this attitude of being an ignorant there, it did not feel honest in class. That guy was a walking paradox, and that did not make it any easier to stand the looks Harry was continuously measured with. Whatever that man's problem was, Harry did not want to take part of it. He would stay far away from him and his son; the looks he was getting from them were simply wrong.

"I found it really interesting for once," Hermione said satisfied.

"I thought you said he'd talk nonsense?" Harry frowned when he caught up with his friends.

"On Friday he was, Harry." Hermione pulled a face. "Maybe he was just …waiting for you." She gazed at him with a thoughtful frown.

"I believe that." Harry snorted, but he did.

"Whatever the reason, finally we had a decent lesson." Hermione was not disappointed if her smile was anything to go by.

"What? You call staring at the wall and doing nothing a decent lesson?"

"Well, Ron, you weren't supposed to do nothing. You should have done as the Professor had said." She frowned. "What were you staring at anyway? Your eyes were supposed to be closed."

"I'd have fallen asleep." Ron argued. "He's worse than Umbitch."

"No, he isn't." Hermione hugged her books defensively.

"I don't know." Harry said morosely. "But whatever, even Umbridge had not been staring at me like I'm green-skinned and from Mars."

"Right you are, Harry." Then he frowned. "Are you?"

"He's not even trying to hide that he's staring at me the whole time. The other professors noticed it already and it's not even been a full week that we're back in school." And he thought mainly about the way Snape had stared and how Dumbledore had watched him in turn. "Whenever I'm in the same room as that peacock I'm feeling as if he's going to vivisect me while I'm still moving."

"But look at what he taught us! We learnt more today than in the whole last year." Hermione waved her parchments full of notes in front of their noses.

"But Hermione, I trust Harry." Ron calmed her down. "He's generally better at reading people than you are."

"That's so not true, Ron." Hermione was becoming aggravated.

"And Lockhart? It's just your hormones, Hermione, you're sixteen now, it's normal."

"Ron! You make it sound as if I ran after everyone wearing trousers!"

"Well, you --"

"Ron, stop! Think about what you want to say." Hermione held her hand up, her voice resolute and her eyes flashing. "Then think again, because if you finish that sentence you'll be doing your homework on your own for the rest of the year."

"Oops." Ron swallowed with an apologetic glance toward Harry and mouthed a sorry. "I think you're right after all, Hermione."

"Fine, then let's go to the common room now." Hermione sped up. "We need to go if we want to pack away our things, Ron," she added when the redhead made no move other than to slowly trudge along with Harry.

"Whatever's the hurry for?" he asked uncomprehending.

"Ron!" Now she was truly vexed. "We have the prefects' meeting in about half an hour!" Then she hurried off without them. "I won't run to get there, so get a move on, Ron," she called back impatiently.

"I'll think of you, my friend." Harry mourned him and grinned when the redhead shot him a dark look. As if it had not been enough to sit through a whole day of school, now Ron had to sit through some stupid meeting too.

Harry could not help but laugh when Ron hastened to follow Hermione. Until now the day had not been so bad. He had not caught a trace of Tom or Hogwarts – not that Harry had touched the castle again after this disturbing experience last night. The next hour Harry lay back on his bed and relaxed his screaming muscles. A day of moving had helped, but he was still sore to the bone.

When Harry met Ron and Hermione at dinner in the great hall his friend's muttering about stupid, useless meetings was loud enough to entertain the whole table all the while he stuffed himself with food. Hermione did not even reprimand him on his eating habits, too angry with him because he actually fell asleep during the meeting. Harry grinned slightly but left them to their argument. He had enough fights on his own to withstand.

Cautious, Harry glanced at the head table. Nowadays it seemed there was nowadays always someone keeping an eye or two on him from this direction. It was downright stupid. This time it was Brado gazing at him in that disturbing intense way that was so Dumbledore-like. Not enough with that, though, because Snape had for once his eyes not directed to the Gryffindor table but was observing Brado himself with a sneering expression of dislike on his face. Harry shook his head. He chose to enjoy his dinner. However strange the adults at this place were becoming, Harry refused to worry about them. His two main problems were quiet for once and Harry was not ready to exchange one problem for another.

The evening brought no new revelations. With Ron at his side Harry did not fear that Hermione asked uncomfortable questions, though originally Harry thought that her curiosity must be satisfied for now. After all he had all but cried on her – well, nearly. Harry did not ask what books she was poring over. It was too early to get her really involved in anything she did not bring up herself. That she was all goody with the peacock did not help in any way.

The pillow fight in the evening was short and did not deserve the name. Harry refused to take part and occupied the bathroom to shower and change. When he came back his pillow was gone and Seamus was winking at him innocently while Neville and Dean kept their own pillows firmly hugged. Ron had still two. Seamus had obviously been too lazy to get back his own and had opted for Harry's. Harry shrugged, made a pile of his robes and pushed them in the crook of his neck. Five minutes after he had closed his eyes a pillow landed on his face accompanied with the words "You're no fun, Harry." But at least he now had a pillow. Smiling, Harry turned around to sleep. For once he did not fear to be awoken by a raging Tom. This would be a good night.

It was a good night too, at least until Harry dreamt and woke up gasping for breath, not knowing what had made his heart race. He lay back, but he could not find the right mind to sleep again. Tom was only but a small presence in the back of his head, he gave no trouble, but still. It was one in the morning when Harry finally grabbed his invisibility cloak and made his way to the library. If he was awake already he could at least do something useful with his time and get to know what new mysteries the restricted section held this year around.

It was then when Harry met Malfoy sneaking around the corners. He poked his head in here and there to catch a student out after curfew, probably wanting to blackmail a fellow Slytherin or curse and take points from anyone else. Harry could not help himself but pull down his hood when he stood right behind him.

"Boo," Harry said quietly. He still got lucky to see Malfoy jumping up, not able to suppress a cry of surprise, before the Slytherin jerked around wide eyed, his wand pointed to where Harry's body should be.

"Potter!" he all but growled.

"Malfoy." Harry grinned calmly and shook his head. "I must say you are a really sorry excuse of a wizard, especially for one with already poor blood." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "I didn't know that you could squeal like a girl." It looked funny to see all pale Malfoy with a face turned Weasley-red. It was a relief that Harry did not feel the magic around people anymore. If he got lucky he could catch a glimpse of their auras, but to be freed from practically being driven to insanity when stupid airheads like Malfoy had no control about their magic was a tremendous help to keep himself working.

"You'll pay, scar head." Malfoy raised his wand and seemed to call out the first spell that came to mind when Harry gestured through the air and stopped effectively whatever Malfoy had to say. For a moment he was baffled that his own magic had worked that well, but then, Harry had not thought or worried about, he had just done it.

"Of course, Malfoy," Harry said softly. "Everyone pays, don't you think?" He smirked darkly and took a step toward the silent Slytherin. "What would your daddy say, I wonder." Harry took another step forward. "How are you doing, Malfoy? Your chest any better? Not feeling a slight … tingling anymore, are you?" he pointed to his chest and suppressed a smirk when Malfoy stepped instinctively back, his eyes narrowed, but cautious. Malfoy had never been very brave. "The bruise is healing well I hope." Harry frowned when Malfoy kept his silence, but then he grinned.

"Oh, of course." Harry smiled happily. "I forgot that you can't answer." Harry made a show to pull out his wand, wave it dramatically and remove the silencing charm he had cast on mere instinct.

"I'll show you, scar head." Malfoy scowled while backing away. "Just you wait."

"That's nice, ferret," Harry said lightly and smiled calmly. "I'm ready when you are. Don't make me wait too long though, poor blood, or I might show you first." Harry grinned when Malfoy retreated faster. It was a pity that Malfoy had little to no guts within his bones. Harry would have liked a little sparring match between the two of them with no one there to witness. Maybe that was what had Malfoy running. Harry should not have looked that eager. It was a nice feeling to start things for once, to be the one in control not the one controlled. The Slytherin had not even tried to take points from him for being out after curfew. Harry looked forward to their next meeting.

Harry waited until the pitiful blonde was out of his sight. Then he shrugged back under his invisibility cloak and, with a final laugh, hurried toward the library. He wanted to borrow at least one or two promising books before he made his way back to the common room. He needed something to occupy his time until the morning. With Malfoy running rampant it was not to say if he was not stupid enough to get a teacher to see if everyone was in their appointed rooms.