Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me.

Author's Note: Well here it is. Frankly it's a miracle if this chapter makes it onto the site as I've been having some rather large technical issues. Anyway, here goes.

The trio remained sitting at the Gryffindor table until they saw Lupin stand as if to leave. They immediately gathered their bags, and as he made his exit from the Great Hall, they pounced.

"Professor Lupin... what are you doing back?" Harry asked directly.

Lupin gave a tiny smile. "They couldn't find anyone else who wanted the job, and Dumbledore vouched for me... The parents won't like it, but I suppose I should be used to that by now."

"Well we're glad you're back, Professor," Hermione said encouragingly.

Lupin gave a slightly stronger smile. "Thank you, Hermione. Will I be seeing you three in my classes this year?"

They all nodded emphatically. Despite the fact he happened to be a werewolf, they all had the greatest respect for Lupin, and Defence Against the Dark Arts classes seemed a much better prospect with him teaching them.

The next morning, Harry woke feeling very tired, which was not a good omen for the first day of lessons. He had been awake most of the night. Something was bothering him, and he knew exactly what it was. The special someone from his thoughts was on his mind more than ever, and that wasn't all. What was Lupin doing back? Could the Order afford to have another member away from Grimmauld Place? He knew that having a member at Hogwarts could in fact be of use to the Order, but then they already had Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape... not that Harry could be persuaded to see Snape as an asset to the Order. Or to anything, in fact.

With a grimace, Harry got up and began to put on his robes. He shook Ron awake, pointed out the time and went into the bathroom.

A/N: This bathroom is the one at the end of the dormitory that JKR never mentioned. I feel it should get a mention, I mean, do witches and wizards not need bathrooms or something, 'cos according to books 1-5, there don't seem to be any in Gryffindor tower.

Breakfast was quite a strange event for Harry that Tuesday. As he sat eating his bacon and eggs and sipping his pumpkin juice, he could feel a pair of eyes watching him. By looking around he managed to ascertain that it wasn't any of the usual suspects. It wasn't Snape, who seemed to watch Harry sometimes just to freak him out for the sheer hell of it. It wasn't Colin Creevey who, despite being a Fifth Year, could still be spotted occasionally staring at Harry in mute admiration. It wasn't Cho, who had evidently decided if he was going to be stand-offish, she'd do likewise. Eventually, Harry gave up on trying to work out who the culprit was, and went back to his breakfast.

Shortly after he did this, Professor McGonagall walked past, handing them their new timetables as she went.

"So today we've got double Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions and double History of Magic," Harry read off his sheet.

"That means I've got my first Muggle Studies class today," Ron added through a mouthful of fried egg.

"And I've got Arithmancy this afternoon," Hermione finished. She looked at Harry. "At least the first lesson with Snape's only a single!"

Harry smiled weakly. This did not come as a relief to him, as any time spent with Snape sounded to him like a death sentence. After the events of his last Occlumency lesson last term, when he had looked into Snape's worst memory – an experience he never wished to repeat, he knew that the Potions master hated him more than ever. Thanks to what he had seen in the Pensieve, he had spent endless minutes of his summer trying to rebuild his shattered respect for his father and his godfather.

Potions turned out to be a black spot in what was otherwise quite a good day.

"The next two years," Professor McGonagall had begun at the start of her lesson, "will not be like last year. Last year, you all seemed to realise only at the last minute just how much work you needed to do to be ready for your OWLs. For your NEWTs, however, you will be unable to rely on these last minute cramming sessions. I expect you all to work to a consistently high standard in your sixth and seventh years at this school, particularly those of you who have... high aspirations for the future." She glanced at Harry as she said this, and he made a silent vow to work as hard as he could for his NEWTs.

In Herbology, however, there was no such speech. The Sixth Years were plunged straight into practical work, having been directed into the most advanced greenhouse yet. Professor Sprout did not waste too much time talking to the class.

"Right chaps," she said, rubbing her hands together, "this is the most dangerous greenhouse you have worked in, so there are two things you must do in all lessons. The first is to wear your gloves – Weasley, are you listening?"

Ron, who had been staring at a large plant somewhat resembling a giant Venus flytrap, flushed deep red and turned his attention back to Professor Sprout, who continued.

"So, always wear your gloves. If you do not have gloves at the moment, you will be observing your fellow students in my lessons this week. You will all be doing practical work as of Monday, by which time you should have purchased a new pair of gloves in Hogsmeade. Second instruction is to always follow my instructions. Some of these plants we are going to look at are... not very witch-or-wizard friendly. Understood? Right, off we go then!"

The remainder of the lesson was spent learning how to remove the spines from a Romanian Whistling Bush. The spines were, Professor Sprout explained, used in various medicines. She ended the class by recommending to Neville a particularly good book on the topic. Neville, of course, ended up practically bouncing out of the greenhouse, delighted with this small act of recognition of his skills in his best subject.

Potions, on the other hand, was a rather unpleasant experience for all concerned. Snape was, if such a thing was possible, even more venomous than usual. Even Draco Malfoy, normally his favourite student, was told off for not paying attention. Snape did not, of course, go so far as to take points away from Slytherin for this, but all of the students were astounded at this display of rather un-Snape-like behaviour. After Snape had finished expressing his utter amazement at how some of them scored highly enough in the OWL to get into the class anyway, the lesson was almost over. When the bell rang, the students surged out of the dungeon as fast as they possibly could.

As he left the room, sandwiched in the middle of the crowd, Harry caught a glimpse of Draco Malfoy's face. He had seen that look of anger too often for it to surprise him, but the look of resentment – and was that embarrassment? – did surprise him a little. Usually Malfoy left Snape's classes with a malicious smile, often having earned several points for Slytherin, so this expression was not the kind Harry would have expected. He felt almost sorry for Malfoy, as he knew he had not actually done anything to deserve Snape's wrath, and this feeling of sympathy shocked him more than anything else.

Harry spent most of lunchtime trying to analyse possible reasons why he had felt sorry for Malfoy. Unfortunately, every way he turned, he drew a blank. This lack of clarity left him frustrated and with just the right stress level to stay awake and reasonably attentive in Binns's class that afternoon. He even managed to take notes. This in itself was impressive, as Binns managed to make the subject as boring as ever. The result was that Harry left at the end of the lesson feeling much calmer than when he had gone in.

"Harry mate," Ron began delicately as they walked back to Gryffindor tower, "are you feeling OK?"

Harry shot him a quizzical look.

"You were taking notes in Binns's class!" Ron explained. "I don't want you turning into Hermione, OK?"

Harry grinned. "Not a chance!"

Dinner that evening was somewhat like breakfast. Again, Harry had the distinct impression that someone was watching him. Again, he glanced around at Snape, Colin and Cho. Then, suddenly, some instinct made him look over to the Slytherin table. He looked just in time to see Draco Malfoy quickly turn away.

His expression astonished, Harry took a deep draught of pumpkin juice as he tried to process this information. Draco Malfoy had been looking at him – no, staring at him. And if he wasn't mistaken, Draco Malfoy had been staring at him at breakfast too. Now this he couldn't understand.

Author's Note: Well, I kept my promise – it's longer than Chapter 3! Hope you like it, please please review. The next chapter's going to be shorter, I think, just as a bridge to when things get more bizarre/interesting.