Chapter 7: Paper Planes
Harry sat down at his customary desk at the back of the room with a weary sigh. He took the sandwich and whatever else he'd swiped and ate his lunch, though according to his biological clock, it was closer to dinner.
Last night, he'd tried to get the Questionable Items out of the closet. At the time, he wasn't worried so much as curious. The only time travel that he knew of was backwards. This one allowed him to travel forward in time, sort of. He was actually counting on the item to attempt to manipulate time again, because he needed the data. If he could somehow master the device, why, think of all the uses for interstellar travel.
He had a system in place that should minimize the amount of time lost, while also providing insight into which one was the offending item. He estimated he wouldn't lose more than 3 hours. However, as a precaution, he'd told Neville that if he didn't hear from him in 12 hours, to call McGonagall and rescue him. He'd gone in his room at about 9:00 pm, and left 30 seconds later to see the morning sun shining through the window.
This told him 2 things:
1) The amount of time lost in the time dilatation is not consistent with time spent in the room.
2) No way he was going in there again without at least three spotters, and maybe a gun.
Harry bit into his sandwich, contemplating if he should tell McGonagall. He could ask her to remove the item for him, but he knew that she would probably confiscate everything, and the thought literally pained him. He'd be better off giving himself another week to figure it out. Although…last night had been a bit much. He'd lost 11 hours. The scariest part was that if he had told Neville to contact McGonagall in three days, would he still be in the room?
The door creaked open behind him, and his shoulders tensed. Class wasn't supposed to start for another twenty minutes, and he'd left the Great Hall specifically to give himself a break from everyone. He'd discovered that during the night, a mysterious illness had come over Hogwarts that seized people with the desire to stand on chairs to riff imaginary guitars. They'd also start singing random songs in the middle and carry on until someone else started another one. He'd briefly considered going back into the room and skipping a few more hours.
"Oh…there you are, Harry," said the voice behind him.
Harry turned around, and saw Hermione walking towards him. He'd been looking forward to seeing her, since now he didn't have to feel guilty about distracting her from work. But, the way she was charging towards him was setting off warning bells. He was trying to figure out what he did wrong, and if there was a way to talk himself out of it.
"Umm," said Harry, his hands still grasping the sandwich. "If you're mad about the fact I didn't respond to your message, I just want you to know I had a really good explanation—"
Hermione waved her hand, telling him to stop. She pulled something from her bag. "I was looking for you earlier, and I found this in your lab." She slammed a paper down on the desk in front of him, almost colliding with his chips. "Explain this."
Harry examined the poorly drawn comic with characters who were clearly from one particular school.
"Umm…I didn't do it."
"Oh, really? I can't think of anyone else who would write, 'A logarithm is a log that's got rhythm.'"
"Err…"
"And 'The ingredients to a love potion are gold dust, a vintage shoe sacrifice, and…oh look, shiny!'"
Harry slowly put down his sandwich. He'd been joking around with his classmates in the lab about what kinds of answers Beauxbatons students would write on a test, and one of them had decided to get to drawing it up. They'd all shared a laugh, and he'd left it on his desk for future reference.
"I…didn't write the thing. I may have been in the room at the time of its inception, but it was all in good fun, really! No one was supposed to see it."
Hermione folded her arms. "So you admit to the crime. This is really immature, Harry. You may have been angry about Marguerite, but your comic insults the entire school. And your defence is, 'It was all in good fun, really?'"
"I wasn't trying to get back at Marguerite, if that's what you're thinking."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "So, what, you were insulting my entire school? Do you think we're all vapid idiots or something?"
Harry winced. It was one of his principles not to fight with Hermione, since it usually ended badly for him anyway. Still, he had to be honest. "I wasn't going to admit this, but yes, I do have some concerns about the quality of their education."
Hermione let out a laugh. "You're kidding, right? Okay, explain."
"Well…" Harry looked towards the door, catching the eye of a few students who were passing by. "I mean, their entrance into Hogwarts was the first clue something was wrong. I can't believe their headmistress signed off on that."
Hermione made a face. "That was bad, I'll admit. Still, I heard about the Hogwarts' song, and that was at least 10 times worse."
"Yes, but we didn't perform it, because McGonagall scrapped it once she saw how bad it was. That's my point. She knew it was a tradition to have a school performance, but decided to do away with tradition since it was preferable to looking like idiots."
"Umm…where are you going with this, Harry?"
"You've seen Beauxbaton's work in Defence, Hermione. They never place at the top of the class. They're so worked up about form, about making the spell look "perfect," that when it comes time to practice in a mock duel, they choke up. They know how to cast it, but not how to use it effectively. They're too afraid to make mistakes to really try, forget about going off script and trying something new."
Hermione snorted and shook her head.. "You got this from the way they practice making shields? Give them a little credit—we've only had four classes. Besides, there's nothing wrong with doing well in class and, you know, listening to your teacher."
He sighed. "Alright, fair point. However, keep in mind that they take their OWLs in their 6th year instead of their 5th, and they still lag behind Hogwarts in their scores. Besides, if their greatest contribution to the wizarding world is that the entire graduating class can cast the Avis charm, then there is something wrong with their curriculum."
A few students came in and sat down. They had their books open, but were watching the show between Harry and their assistant teacher.
"Oh, you want to talk about educational performance?" said Hermione, folding her arms. "I heard about what happened in Hogwarts last year. Everyone scored Dreadfuls on their final exams, but it was too embarrassing to fail everyone, so McGonagall just passed them to the next year."
"A small setback, and it won't happen again. If you knew what we went through last year, you'd be impressed that we had finals at all," said Harry, wrapping up his sandwich. "All things considered, Hogwarts still educates better than Beauxbatons on almost every level." The words were leaving his mouth when he realized what he'd just said, and how it must sound to his very competitive friend. He gave Hermione a pleading look. "Umm…you're not going to take this personally and refuse to speak to me for a month, are you?"
Hermione's response was a slow, devilish smirk, which somehow made him even more nervous. "You should know something about Beauxbatons, Harry Potter. We don't have houses, because we believe in solidarity. Mess with one of us, and you mess with all of us." She leaned in, hands braced on the sides of his desk. "Remember how I'm taking 6th year classes and know how to cast 6th year jinxes?"
Harry gulped. "But…you won't? Because you're a nice superhero, who is also an assistant teacher? Your students are over there watching us."
Hermione chuckled darkly. "Actually, I read that punishing one student can make the other students respect you. Think I should try it?"
Harry blinked, his brain struggling to resolve this wicked Hermione with her innocent aura. "Err….you sure you weren't reading a book on how to be a better mob boss?"
She pulled away from him, re-crossing her arms. "Well, I won't do it, but you did just insult my entire school. I can't let that stand, Harry." Her mischievous smirk returned. "You need to answer for your words."
"Wait a minute…" Harry blinked. Ahh, so that's where this was going. He was a little embarrassed it had taken him so long to figure out. Harry gave her his best dark lord grin. "Are you going to make me? I'd like to see that. You might be the star of Witch Weekly, but I'm the Dark Lord Harry. There's a reason people fear me."
She tapped her fingers against her arm. "You know, the more you talk up your game, the more satisfying it's going to be to take you down." Her smile was smug. "I can't wait to see the look on your face when I crush you."
"And I can't wait to make you eat your words, Miss Alicorn."
A few of the students in the back started snickering, though they quickly piped down once Harry shot them a deadpan glare, the kind you gave a bug before killing it. He didn't look away until he was satisfied they knew that no one was allowed to tease Hermione except for him.
Harry turned back to Hermione and smiled, leaning back in his chair. "Just one problem. We don't have any classes together, so how will we judge the winner of this rivalry?"
"Actually, we do have one class," said Hermione. "I'm taking Transfiguration with the 5th years."
"Wait, you are?" Harry frowned. "Then why haven't I seen you?"
"McGonagall said I didn't have to attend class for the first few weeks, as long as I did the homework." She bit her lip, her shoulders slumping. "I had to miss Charms class, too. I hated it, but there was no time. At least it was mostly review."
"I see," said Harry slowly, then shrugged. "You know, we could just resolve this like civilized people and face each other in a duel."
"Ha, ha that's funny," said a gruff voice from behind him. "You got a death wish, kid?"
Harry turned around to see Mad-Eye Moody, wearing his signature brown duster and leaning against a staff. Presumably he used it for walking, but Harry got the sense he'd brought it explicitly to cane annoying students.
"What are you doing here, Moody?" asked Harry.
"I'm observing the lesson, just to make sure my idiot protégé here hasn't gotten herself into any trouble with dark curses." His blue eye swivelled around the room, before settling on Hermione. "But you're an even bigger idiot, boy, if you think you can defeat Beauxbaton's best charm's mistress in a fair fight."
Harry smirked. "Well, I think I stand a pretty fair chance. After all, I was able to defeat y—"
Harry tried to force the air out, but he couldn't speak.
"I take that back," said Mad Eye. "You should fight him, Hermione. Let him know he's not as resistant to your charms as he thinks. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"
He slammed his cane down over Harry's hands, rattling the desk so hard it cracked like a gunshot. Harry leaped backward to avoid it, and tipped his chair over onto the floor.
Mad Eye laughed, and then walked with his cane down the steps. Hermione knelt down to help Harry up, before taking her place at the front of the room.
The student beside Harry, a 5th year Gryffindor, nudged him. "Aww man, you're so lucky. You have a cute Beauxbatons girl flirting with you, and you got roasted by Mad Eye!"
Harry ignored him, and opened his textbook. He had more important things to think about. Like how he was going to crush Hermione Granger.
Next week's Transfiguration class was going to be so much fun.
Later that evening, Hermione was contentedly reading a book in the library when Tonks plonked down beside her and draped an arm over her shoulder.
"So," said Tonks conspiratorially. "I've been hearing rumors about you and a certain young man. Apparently, you two had some fun while I wasn't around. I want details."
Hermione sighed and closed the book. She'd known Tonks would find out somehow, and she'd spent all day preparing her spiel that was now pouring out in a jumbled mess. "Okay, listen, umm, I don't know what you heard, but it was dark, and there was all this music and fireworks, and I'm certain someone spiked the butterbeer or cast a Confundus charm over the entire crowd. In any case, I've just decided to forget the whole thing ever happened."
Tonks stared at her in silence, then she let out a surprised laugh. "I was talking about Harry Potter in Defence class. What were you talking about?"
"Umm…." said Hermione, wishing someone had charmed her lips shut. "Crap."
McGonagall had initially been happy about the fact that Hermione was joining her Transfiguration class. It wasn't just because Hermione was such a bright, helpful student, or that she seemed to pull up the class average by simply being in the room. She thought that Hermione working side by side with Harry Potter would be good for the both of them.
McGonagall was worried about Harry. Ever since Hermione left Hogwarts, his test scores had slowly dropped each year. He was still making good grades, but he didn't participate in class like he used to. He also never talked to her, and spent most of his time alone.
Sometime last year, Harry had asked McGonagall if they could offer a muggle science elective. He'd even offered to prepare the course materials, if someone would be willing to teach it. McGonagall had refused, claiming there wouldn't be enough interest from students, before she realized that the real reason was because she was scared. Science was muggle magic, and she'd gotten it into her head that no wizard could know it well enough to teach it properly.
So, she'd compromised, and offered to teach Muggle science at the end of Transfiguration classes, which she would extend by 20 minutes. It was partly a favour to the Boy-Who-Lived, and partly a challenge to herself. Harry had offered his advice, but she told him not to worry. She bought some books about science experiments for young children, and set to work outlining her curriculum.
It had taken her 6 months, and it still wasn't up to her standards. But she would try her best.
"Now then, students," said McGonagall. "I trust you've all read the pages for today." She knew they hadn't. "So I'm sure you'll ace the pop quiz."
Several students groaned. "Professor!"
It was one of her joys in life to remind students to take their studies seriously, especially if it meant surprising them with pop quizzes.
Harry and Hermione were the first to turn theirs in, and they arrived on her desk at almost the same time. It took another 5 minutes for the next student to turn theirs in, and she could tell just by glancing at it that they'd guessed half of it. The student was now leaning back in his chair, his brain somewhere far away.
Once the quiz was over, McGonagall shuffled the papers and announced. "I hope this is a reminder to you all that studying is important. Our top scoring students were also both the first to finish. For their excellent work, I'm awarding 10 points to Ravenclaw." McGonagall lamented the fact that she could award no points to Beauxbatons.
"Professor," said Harry, raising his hand. "Can I inquire, which of us finished first?"
"I don't know, Harry. I would need a time turner to check."
McGonagall saw Harry glance at Hermione, but she gave him a pointed look and shook her head.
"Now then, on to the lesson," said McGonagall briskly. "As you all know, we have been studying vanishing spells, but we will take a short break today to practice conjuring spells. Open your textbooks to page 19 ½."
The lesson went smoothly, though she noticed subtle changes. Whenever she asked a question, Harry and Hermione would both raise their hands to answer. Sometimes, Harry would be taking notes, but as soon as Hermione raised her hand, he'd abandon the notes to also raise his hand. McGonagall started deliberately calling on everyone but those two, but they didn't give up, even straining a little to remind her they were there.
They spent the lesson working on the Inanimatus Conjurus Spell, and to practice, she had them try to conjure up sheets of paper. Hermione finished first, and immediately flashed a grin in Harry's direction. He ground his teeth before completing his own conjuration. McGonagall had to turn away and hide her chuckle. Then she walked the class room to assist other students, and she asked Hermione to do the same. When McGonagall passed Harry, he was giving her this questioning look. She normally didn't ask Harry to help the other students, since he could be a bit abrasive, but she decided just this once to let him go.
McGonagall got stuck helping one student who just wasn't getting it, and when she looked up, she noticed that several of the students were folding the paper into airplanes. Not only that, but Harry and Hermione were instructing them on how to do it properly.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"Oh, sorry," Hermione said. "It's just…well, we've just been finished for a while, and thought it would be fun to do something with the paper."
"Professor," said Harry politely. "Would it be alright to have an airplane race? We could relate it to a discussion on the principles of aerodynamics afterwards."
"Well…" said McGonagall. "I suppose I don't see the harm."
She'd assumed it would be a nice, simple competition between classmates. What it turned into was a tiered racing competition with both semi-finals and final rounds. McGonagall had never seen any class so dedicated to conjuring paper, or seen so many students running across the room to share tape and scissors. They drew lines at one end of the classroom using string, cleared desks out of the way, and Anthony Goldstein served as the referee to make sure there was no magical intervention.
Harry and Cho Chang made it to the final round, and there was an excessive amount of cheering with the male students on one side by Harry, and the girls around Cho Chang. When McGonagall noted that they were running over class time, they'd begged her to let them finish. Finally, after a sudden death round, Cho Chang came out the winner. Everyone was screaming and clapping, and they raised her in the air and lit up firecracker charms. McGonagall was reminded of the end of Quidditch matches, and she hoped that perhaps in all of that playing, they had learned something.
On their next class the following day, McGonagall decided she wouldn't let things go off the rails. They would be conjuring paper clips, and she'd already come up with a simple experiment using dish soap, pepper and cups of water. She would end the class by explaining the principles of surface tension, and that would be that.
However, in the middle of class, one of the Ravenclaws had the bright idea to shove a paperclip under his friend's fingernail. After much screaming and name calling, McGonagall pulled both kids outside for a stern lecture about safety in Transfiguration class.
She'd only been gone a few minutes. When she returned, she saw her students carrying large sword shaped paperclip spirals, a giant tank of water in the centre of the room, and Harry standing in front of it on a ladder. "Alright, boys and girls, step right up to try floating your jumbo paper clips. There's no weight limit, but it must be longer than 1 meter. Place your bets now if you're gonna make them!"
"HARRY POTTER! What is the meaning of this?"
His eyes widened, and he stumbled on the ladder. "Umm...professor, we were just…testing out some principles of buoyancy…you know, like how rafts can float even though they're big…"
"Finite Incantatem!" she cried, and all the conjurations vanished. "Class dismissed, and 20 points from Ravenclaw." She turned a fierce glare on the two offending students. "Harry Potter, Hermione Granger. My office. Now."
Author's Notes:
Harry and Hermione's Rivalry:
Starting from their first week in Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione were friendly rivals. Their first challenge was to see who could read their schoolbooks faster. Hermione won, and as punishment Harry had to go on a date with her (which he hated). Their rivalry was great fun for both of them, but especially for Hermione, who kept crushing Harry Potter. Over time she came to regret her decision, since her classmates thought of her only as his rival, and his love interest.
But now that she's made her own name for herself as an Auror-in-Training and a superhero, well...what kind of self-respecting heroine doesn't have an arch nemesis she can crush on a daily basis?
