Chapter 9

Hermione the Brave

"I'm suprised she even lets us carry on with casting spells in this room," said Hermione. "She is basically aiding the enemy. I wonder what Voldemort thinks of that."

"Oh give it a rest Hermione," said Ron. "You are completely overreaching."

"I am not," she yelled back at him.

"Well, lets at least stop talking about her in her own classroom," said Harry, at the two of them, to stop them before they start.

After a few moments, Harry heard a loud clunk in the seat next to him, and looked over to see who had sat next to him, but Ron beat him to it.

"Neville?" Ron said, bewildered at his presence. "What in the bloody hell are you doing in here?"

"I'd like to know myself," he said, with a nervous grin. "McGonagal told me there was a mistake on my O.W.L.S. and I actually passed Defense against the Dark Arts."

"Well, there's the explanation for my passing," said Ron. "They've decided to let everyone in. No offence, Neville."

"None taken," he said, and after a few moments of hesitation he said: "Should I be nervous."

"Yes," replied all three of them.

Hermione and Ron talked to Neville, while Harry sat in thought. Although Neville had improved greatly during the time of Dumbledore's Army, there was no way he could have passed the Dark Art's test. Dumbledore had to have placed him in here himself, because of the "situation". If Voldemort found out that Neville could possibly be a threat to him, surprisingly enough, he would kill him when he got the chance. All part of precaution, Harry told himself.

The class room filled slowly, and yet again, their teacher was no where to be found. And the classroom remained empty of her presence for quite some time. In the mean time, Hermione still wouldn't stop talking about how Aradia was "planning" her overthrow of the school.

"Al' right," rang that familiar heavy accent, through the class room. "S'eenouf wit dee talkin'"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Neville straighten in his seat. And he had good reason to do so. Her voice had an eerie tone to it. Something you would not want to hear before you go to bed.

Harry could hear the loud clunks of her boots as she walked up the isle toward her desk. But then they stopped, as she stopped right next to Neville.

"Who are s'you?" she asked him.

"Longbottom...Neville Longbottom," Neville leaned slightly closer to Harry, cowering in her presence.

"And s'why are s'you here?" She inquired at him.

"P-Professor McGonagal sent me," he stuttered.

"Well....git out," she said, making her way to her desk. "I s'dont like s'you."

"Ok." Neville immediately stood up, almost in joy. But Hermione's voice stopped him from moving further.

"You have no right to do that," she said, looking from Neville to their Professor. "Neville sit down." And he did so.

"S'your voice will have a bad reputation in this world, if s'you don't learn to shut it off," said Prof. Aradia.

"No worse than yours," Hermione snapped back.

"This classroom is better than Qudditch," he heard Seamus whisper from somewhere behind him.

"Girl, you do realize s'that I can fail s'you," said Prof. Aradia, her eyes stared at Hermione as if she was reading her like she would a book..

"I've already learned all I need to," said Hermione. "There is nothing more that you could possibly teach me."

The class was completely silent, waiting for a remark. Prof. Aradia walked around her desk and toward Hermione.

"Well if s'you feel dat s'you can teach dis class how not to die," she spat at Hermione, leaving a heavy mark on the words in which she spoke. "Dhan s'you shall be my guest....to teach dem."

Hermione stood from her seat. "I'd be glad to." She said sharply.

"Very well," Prof. Aradia spoke back. "S'you shall learn foudre today. Im sure dat s'you v'will have no problem teaching dat." She turned and walked for the door, slamming it behind her.

"What's a fondu?" said Ron, changing the tone around them. His question went un answered.

"Hermione, I thought she was going to kill you," said Neville, relaxing in his chair.

Harry thought he heard the words "Me too." escape from her mouth, but he couldn't be sure. The class immediately broke out in discussion as though they were in the Great Hall. Ron and Harry, watched Hermione to see what she was going to do. There was a blank look on her face, which made Harry presume that she was thinking.

"What are you going to do," said Ron.

"Absolutely nothing," she said. "Once McGonagal learns that she has left the classroom in the hands of a student, she will no doubt get banned from teaching."

"Don't be so sure of yourself," said Harry.

For the rest of the class Hermione did her homework, and when the bell rang she walked out as if nothing had happened.

Potions was a nightmare from beginning to start for Harry, not only did he mess up his potion severely, he spilled some on Snape's shoe as he walked by to inspect, turning it's dark black to a bright purple. He took thirty points from Gryffindor and ten more for Harry's "Sheer stupidity".

But the event that topped the day happened at diner that evening. As Harry entered the Great Hall with Hermione and Ron, he was in disbelief that Dumbledore was sitting at the staff table. What was even more disbelieving was the fact that he looked just fine. Hermione was the one who nudged Harry forward, it seemed he had stopped in mid-step.

"It looks like our dear friend was wrong," said Hermione. Harry looked up and down the table, and there was no sign of Professor Aradia.

"Interesting," said Ron as they sat at the table.

"And Prof. McGonagal isn't there either," she continued. "She must be talking with her right now."

"Let's drop his," said Harry. "Please!"

"Fine," said Hermione.

The rest of the evening went by with small talk between the three of them. Harry glanced at Dumbledore several times that night, but couldn't find a change in him. The House Table's seemed very content having their Headmaster back, and it made Harry wonder what they do without him. It seemed he had always been there. Never leaving them in their time of need (except for that one time in their second year), he was always there. Maybe we all took him for granted. No one else in the world have such comfort as they have right now. Because Voldemort feared Dumbledore more than anyone, and that proved evident last year.

Harry didn't realize that he had been staring at Dumbledore all the while in his thinking. He snapped back to reality when he realized Dumbledore was smiling at him. Harry smiled back, and put his focus on his food.

"I've got to go to the Library real quick," said Hermione, and she got up from the table and left.

"Well bye," said Ron, as she walked off. "That was a bit rude."

"Yeah, I guess," said Harry. "Im going to turn in. Night."

For some reason Harry felt exhausted, and just wanted to sleep until he could no longer. He walked down the empty corridors by himself. He felt very alone until he heard a voice call out to him. It was that voice that you shouldn't hear before you go to bed, Professor Aradia's voice.

"I often wonder v'why people like s'you seem to surpass all others, Mr. Potter," she said.

Harry spun around. She looked like a statue, standing there at the window. Her hands placed deep into her pockets, she seemed to tower over everything. Her eyes were fixated, but what it was she was looking at, Harry didn't know.

"What do you mean?" said Harry, slowly stepping next to her.

"If s'you didn't have dat scar on s'your head, s'you'd be no more eemportant dhan any other," she said quietly. Her voice carried a certain frailness to it, as though she had aged thousands of years since he last heard her speak. "But s'you are, of course. Just aye 'nother v'one of dose people who will die in dee name of honor. Honor? V'what is dat to someone like s'you? Are s'you just doing all dis to please others? Or are s'you doing it to satisfy some deep meaning?"

"We all look out for ourselves, don't we?" Harry replied.

Her face turned, and her eyes peered down at him. "S'yes. Selfishness is evident in all of you. No care for anything but s'youselves. And s'you think that is alright?"

Before he could answer, she answered for him. "Of course s'you do. Because all s'you know is v'what they 'ave said. Dat you are the savior of them all. But s'you are not. And if s'you are wise, s'you'd listen to what I 'ave to say."

She looked back out the window, and 'arry did also. "I'll give s'you what s'you want?" she continued. "S'you want s'your Godfather back, I v'will give him to s'you. But s'you have to do something for me 'arry."

Harry listened intently for the words that followed. She turned around, and looked at him. "Don't keel Voldemort." And she walked away.

Harry stood there at the window for quite some time, listening to her footsteps echo against the walls, until he could hear them no more. He walked slowly to the Gryffindor common room, and up to his bed, and for quite some time he laid there.

By her words, Professor Aradia had just told him that she was working for Voldemort. Harry found himself in an utter state of confusion as he pondered why she, the enemy, was allowed, by Dumbledore, to teach inside Hogwarts.

Voldemort must have told her about Sirius. He must have told her that would persuade him to give in to their demands. But Harry wouldn't believe them, because Voldemort had used this term of persuasion before. It didn't work then, and it won't work now.

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I've already written the next chapter, but Im going to give time for this to be read. I did my best to get rid of mistakes. Hope you enjoyed it, please review.