Chapter 6: The Defence Association/Never Judge A Book By Its Cover
I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from writing this whatsoever. The Harry Potter franchise is the property of Warner Brother's and J.K Rowling.
"I ain't know nuthin' bout it then, he just came in like everybody else does that's just driving by. A pit stop, I guess. Asked if we sold any iced tea, I swear, the hell I look like sellin' something like that in my store? I told him, I said, 'son, you're at the wrong place for that'. I don't know how I didn't realize it sooner, but the bastard was on the front cover of my newspaper! I mean, his face may not have been on fire, but I'm telling you, the exact same getup on the front page! But I don't get it! As soon as he leaves, some British guy walks in, all dressed up in a suit, with eyes that looked like they was staring straight through me. I dunno how his fancy suit didn't get dirtied up, I mean, we're on the border of Mexico and Texas, so it ain't exactly clean suburban streets out there. He says something to me, and now I can't remember a damn thing! What day it was when those men came in, what the first man looked like! I know I recognized him from a paper, but I can't even tell you the headline! Just that he was on it! It's driving me insane! Why can't I remember?!"
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"Harry, the arms please."
"Oh, sorry Hermione."
He grabbed at the twig like arms of the plant they were working on in Herbology and held them back as they tried to attack Hermione. It was a pleasant surprise that he was paired with her for this class. In Potions, which had been after Transfiguration, he'd been paired with Padma Patil, which was pleasant enough, though the Ravenclaw girl had acted a little warily around him. For once, Snape had only berated him a little bit for his work. Though the bat-like professor attributed that to his partner, rather than his own work.
"You keep staring at her."
"Wuh-what?" He stammered, momentarily losing his grip on the arms as they greedily tried to continue their advance on Hermione.
They'd been allowed to choose their own partners for Herbology, thankfully. So when Hermione sidled up to him, Harry did not complain. Ron paired off with Dean, while Seamus went with Neville. The Slytherins were in this class too, and Harry had watched while Davis immediately grabbed onto another girl with hair as dark as his own and pulled her to a station.
"At Tracey," Hermione said absentmindedly.
Ah, so that was her name.
She must have glanced over at him and caught his blank expression, for Hermione sighed.
"Honestly, Harry, you've only had five years of classes with her."
"Well," he sputtered, desperately trying to think of an explanation that wouldn't earn him an eyeroll, or worse, another sigh, "well what about you and Johnny?"
Hermione went a little pink at this. "What about it?"
"I never said anything when you stared at him at every meal, always trying to be sneaky about it."
"T-that's not-"
"Quite enough over there, Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger," Professor Sprout said, bustling over towards them, "let's see what you've got here, ah yes! Good work, ten points to Gryffindor." They had successfully fed the plant while keeping it restrained. "Fraxinus plants fecal matter have quite adept healing properties, though they've sadly gone out of favour as ingredients in potions within the last century."
As he and Hermione had packed up to leave, which was a students' reward for completing the task for the day, Harry muttered just loud enough that only Hermione could hear. "Can't imagine why."
That one earned him a smack on the arm and a smothered grin.
They waited outside patiently for Ron to finish. Tracey and her friend were the next ones out, and they made brief eye contact for a moment.
"How is she anyway?" Hermione asked, once the two girls were out of earshot.
"Different, I guess," he said, "wasn't outwardly nasty to me, which was a surprise. She seemed smart."
Hermione nodded. "I'd imagine so. She and Daphne are usually really close to me in terms of marks."
"Some competition, then." Harry commented idly.
Hermione shrugged, adjusting her bag strap. "That's not how I look at it, but I suppose - oh, shut up." She snapped, as Harry raised a skeptical eyebrow at her.
"This is excellent news, Alastor, Johnny. Though Severus regrettably could not inform me about what he's been up to, I have little doubt that this setback will mean Voldemort will lay off with his imports."
Johnny was inwardly very pleased with himself, sitting in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Slowly, he was earning his keep, and proving others wrong about him.
"Hagrid has sent word of his second meeting with the giants, I'm told our gift has gone over relatively well." Dumbledore stated, seeming happy about it. "Emmeline, how are your efforts out on the streets?"
Emmeline, who Johnny had not had a proper conversation with yet, cleared her throat. "Less than desirable locals definitely know something's up. And while maybe most of them aren't prepared to believe that You-Know-Who is back, they are starting to question where some of their friends have gone and found new work." She looked at Johnny and Alastor. "Thanks to their efforts," she said, nodding at them, "we know where they've gone."
Dumbledore nodded, expecting this. "And what of your uncle and his colleagues, Hestia?"
"About the same as Emmeline, I'm afraid," Hestia said, shaking her head sadly, "my uncle believes me, thankfully, but he's certain that the other's don't. So I'm not too sure if we can count on any vampires coming around any time soon."
At this, Dumbledore looked saddened. "I see," he said, and many members looked around awkwardly, avoiding his eyes, "well, moving on, as we all know, Sturgis was arrested at the start of September, he could not explain what he was doing at the department of mysteries so late at night and without permission. I have managed to get his sentence down to six months, Minister Fudge wanted at least a year, and so he fought me desperately on that, but nonetheless, we will need someone to fill his shift."
Diggle looked as if he wanted to volunteer, as well as Emmeline.
"Alastor, your schedule has become quite filled what with patrolling with Johnny at night, what say you?"
The grizzled ex-auror shrugged from his seat beside Johnny. "If you need me, I'll make time. Simple as that."
"And what about you, Johnny?"
His eyes widened. "Me?" Everyone else seemed to share the sentiment.
Dumbledore smiled a little. "Yes, Johnny, while you may not be a wizard, it's clear to me now that you can handle yourself quite efficiently when it comes to Death Eaters."
He didn't really know what to say. Under a month ago he was being admonished, and now Johnny was being offered a huge responsibility?
"I'm a big believer in second chances," Dumbledore said, as if reading his mind. "And you've more than showed me you can make good on them."
"Well, I guess so - I mean, it's not like I'm busy anyway, so, yeah, I'll help in any way I can."
"Excellent," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together before rising, "I will take my leave now, and we may reconvene sometime next week to properly decide who can cover Sturgis' shift."
Johnny caught up with Tonks and Sirius as Order Members walked by to the exit, including Alastor, who have him a pat on the shoulder as he went.
"So," he said, looking between the two, "that's pretty crazy, huh?"
Tonks and Sirius exchanged a look. "Yeah," Sirius said, "look, Johnny, I think we owe you an apology." Tonks nodded in agreement, her teal locks bouncing. "We've been distant with you, after what happened in Leeds. To be honest, that incident put into perspective how little we really knew about you, and I dunno if I can speak for Tonks, but for me personally, it really hit me then that we'd become relatively close in such a short amount of time. Not a bad thing, usually, but these days, well, there's no real excuse for it, but I just want to let you know I'm sorry."
"Yeah," Tonks added, "I basically felt the same, and I'm sorry as well. I know it can't have been easy to suddenly lose the two people you're closest with here overnight."
For the second time, Johnny did not know what to say.
"Ah, thanks guys, really. I don't blame you at all, it's understandable, you don't really know me."
"Well," Sirius said, gesturing to the seats near the fireplace, "we'd like to change that, if it's all the same to you."
An unexplainable warmth filled him then, so unlike the usual burning in his chest.
"Yeah," he nearly choked out, "yeah that'd be great."
Johnny, Tonks and Sirius shared their best memories that night. Of friends, family, school, and life in general. And though he still would not talk about what exactly happened to them, Johnny spoke of his own adoptive family. The good times, when they were all still together. Stealing candy with his brother, learning how to ride a bike with his father, and reading about different mythologies with his mother.
Arthur and Molly even joined in later, though the former more than the latter, as she was focused on preparing dinner. And it was right before it, when a snowy white owl tapped at the window, looking Johnny right in the eyes.
"I was wondering, whether you'd thought any more about teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry."
He pretended to be busy with taking out his book for Transfiguration. After the first partnered assignment, there had been a break from group work in this specific class. They'd worked on vanishing spells all on their own, as well as transfiguring every day objects into various animals.
" 'Course I have," he said finally.
"And?" Hermione said eagerly.
"I dunno," Harry said, playing for time. He looked up at Ron.
"I thought it was a good idea from the start," Ron said, taking out his own book from his seat at the desk in front of him.
"Alright, alright," Professor McGonagall said as she entered, "enough talking - Dean Thomas, keep whispering to Finnegan and I'll magically amplify your voice to annoying levels until next class. Ms. Brown, that goes for you and Ms. Patil, too. Today," she continued briskly, "you will be getting into your pairs again to show me just how much you've learned thus far. We've already practiced vanishing spells and making animals out of objects, so one of you shall create the best skunk they can from the gobstone on your desk," and with a wave of her wand, the small stone pieces appeared, "while the other will do their best to vanish it. The more complex a magical creation, especially a living transfiguration of an animal, the harder it will be for someone else, a stranger's magic, to make it disappear. You will be marked on how realistic the skunk is, as well as how fast and well you've vanished it. Begin."
Hermione gave Harry a look that said the conversation was not over, before the trio got up to go find their partners.
When he slid into the seat next to Tracey, she didn't even bother to look at him.
Still a little sore about their last assignment then? It was the only thing that made sense, and its not as if she talked to him.
Harry was only staring in Herbology just to try and get a read on her, which didn't work, Tracey gave nothing away.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by a pungent smell.
"Eugh," he said, grimacing as he took in the small skunk blinking up at him. "Did you do that non-verbally?"
She shrugged, as if that answered him. "You're too busy day dreaming."
He took out his wand, "Well consider me wide awake now, evanesco."
Harry's eyes widened as the skunk completely disappeared. He looked at Tracey sharply. "Did you make that easy on me?"
Tracey, someone that - though he'd only known her for a very limited amount of time - never seemed to be surprised by much, but at this, even Harry could see that her eyes had widened marginally as well.
"No," she said after a moment, "no I didn't."
"I should hope not," Professor McGonagall said, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. "I saw that, and it was quite impressive Mr. Potter. You've always been more than adept at the practical work, but there's always been something lacking. If you could really focus on the written portion, and apply yourself more like this in general, I daresay you could earn an O in my class."
Very rare praise from McGonagall, and Harry's shock was increased tenfold.
"Ten points to Gryffindor and Slytherin, that was a wonderful skunk, Ms. Davis."
Harry turned to Tracey as McGonagall went to check on Hermione and Goyle.
"What just happened?"
"But you see, Harry? This only proves what I've been saying all along! You've always been good at school, you just need to try more! And you'd be a fantastic teacher."
Harry, who was happy that she was taking him beating her in a class in stride, merely shrugged his shoulders.
"I dunno," he said, to which Hermione threw her hands up. "I just kind of did it, I don't think I could really teach that."
"Oh, come on, mate." Ron interjected from where he was writing in his star chart for Astronomy. "We all know you could run circles around us when it comes to the practical stuff."
"Okay," Hermione conceded, "but that still shows that you're really good at practical stuff in general. We don't need you to talk about theory, we need someone who can show, not just tell."
He frowned slightly. Hermione had a good point, and Harry would be lying if he said he hadn't been thinking about it more and more recently.
"But who would even want me to teach them, I'm a nutter, remember?"
Hermione, who had sat back down in her favourite place by the fire, Crookshanks curled on her lap, smiled at him. "Let me worry about that, you'd be surprised." She returned to writing on a piece of parchment.
"We'll see," he muttered, and her smile widened. "That's not a yes!"
"You did listen to what I said about a load of it being luck, didn't you?"
It was a yes.
"Yes, Harry," Hermione said gently as they walked towards the Hog's Head in the late October morning, "but all the same, there's no point pretending that you're not good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, because you are."
Yeah, he'd heard all that already, and begrudgingly listened as she reiterated what she had been saying for the past two and a half weeks.
"-the Imperius Curse completely, you can produce a Patronus, you can do all sorts of stuff that full-grown wizards can't, Viktor always said -"
Ron looked around at her so fast he appeared to crick his neck; rubbing it, he said, "Yeah? What did Vicky say?"
Hermione responded in a bored voice, but Harry tuned them out. Hogsmeade was packed with people, Honeydukes had a line that stretched around a corner, and from what he could see through the window's of the Three Broomsticks, it looked fit to burst.
When they entered the Hog's Head, it was barren save for a man with bandages all over his face at the bar, a woman covered head to toe in a black veil. They were early.
Harry walked up to the bar, where a grumpy old man that he thought looked familiar glared at them over the counter.
"Three butterbeer's, please," He asked politely.
The old man looked at him oddly for a moment, his blue eyes flicking up to his scar, before he pulled out three incredibly dusty looking bottles.
"Six sickles," he said.
Harry handed over the appropriate amount with a word of thanks, to which he got a grunt in return.
They found a seat near the back of the inn.
"You know what?" Ron murmured after a few moments, looking over at the bar with enthusiasm. "We could order anything we liked in here, I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. I've always wanted to try firewhisky -"
"You - are - a - prefect," Hermione practically snarled.
"Oh," Ron said, the smile fading from his face. "Yeah..."
"So who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?" Harry asked, wrenching open the rusty top of his butterbeer and taking a swig.
"Just a couple of people," Hermione repeated, checking her watch and then looking anxiously toward the door. "I told them to be here about now and I'm sure they all know where it is - oh, where is he? I'm sure he got my - oh, everyone else is here."
The door opened, causing a large amount of dust to swirl all over the place.
Just over two dozen people pilled in to the inn, and the barkeep's eyes widened comically, it was clear he'd never seen his place this busy before. But Harry was not laughing.
"A couple of people?" Harry said hoarsely to Hermione, as he started counting off who he recognized, which was almost all of them. Fred and George were ordering drinks for the new arrivals, Neville, Dean and Lavender were looking around warily, Luna Lovegood looked quite like she may have walked in on accident, Ginny and a few Ravenclaw boys; Anthony Goldstein, Terry Boot, and Michael Corner. Just behind them was Ernie MacMillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbot, and a girl he did not know the name of from Hufflepuff; Padma and Parvati, a boy who Harry vaguely thought he remembered seeing on the Hufflepuff quidditch team, Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, and Alicia Spinnet, Cho (who's appearance made Harry's stomach do a backflip), along with one of her friends, as well as the Creevey brothers; Colin and Dennis. Finally, Lee Jordan, who grinned happily as he entered, four bulging bags from Zonko's in his hands.
"A couple of people?"
"Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular," Hermione said happily. "Ron, could you pull up some chairs?"
Just as the door was able to close after accepting so many people, Harry realized he was mistaken, Lee was not the last person to enter. The door opened slowly, and a man Harry recognized entered, a man whom Harry had spent almost the entire month of August living with.
Johnny Blaze had entered the Hog's Head.
His eyes searched the crowd, but when he did not see them, he looked for them at the tables, and locked eyes with him, and then Hermione. Some of the students appraised him as he entered, but they must have thought he was just another patron of the bar. His leather jacket shone a little in the limited sunlight the open door had provided, before it closes once again. The barman took one look at Johnny, and froze, before going into the backroom behind the counter.
"Hi," he said simply, sitting down to Harry's left and Ron's right at the circular table.
"Hi," Hermione greeted him, smiling nervously.
He nodded at Harry and Ron. "You've picked quite the place to hangout," he said, a small smile playing on his lips.
Hermione flushed, "Well, we've just got to do a little thing first before we go out to the other shops."
"Ah," he said, nodding awkwardly. Johnny nodded at the twins, who gave him salutes in return.
All of the other students had their butterbeers in hand and had found a seat. Everyone was openly staring at Harry. There were a few scattered whispers as Cho took a seat next to Ron and gave Harry a smile that made his mouth go dry.
"Er," Hermione said, her voice slightly higher than usual out of nerves. "Well - er - hi." The group focused its attention on her instead, though eyes continued to dart back regularly to Harry.
"Well... erm... well, you know why you're here. Erm... well, Harry here had the idea - I mean" - Harry had thrown her a sharp look - "I had the idea - that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts - and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us" - Hermione's voice suddenly became more confident - "because nobody could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts" - "Hear, hear," said Anthony Goldstein, and Hermione looked heartened - "well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands." She paused, looked sideways at Harry, and went on, "And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but the real spells -"
"You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. too though, I bet?" Michael Corner said.
"Of course I do," Hermione said at once. "But I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because... because..." She took a great breath and finished, "Because Lord Voldemort's back."
The reaction was immediate, Johnny noted.
Someone yelped and spilled a bit of their drink, several people flinched violently, and one boy swore loudly.
He found it ridiculous, people so terrified by a mere name? If they stopped caring about the name, it wouldn't give the man so much power in the first place.
"Well... that's the plan anyway," Hermione said. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to -"
"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" a blond boy said in an aggressive voice, a frown on his face. Johnny immediately disliked him.
"Well, Dumbledore believes it -" Hermione began.
"You mean, Dumbledore believes him," the blond boy said, nodding at Harry.
"Who are you?" Ron said rudely, and inwardly, Johnny immensely approved of his tone.
"Zacharias Smith," the boy said, and Johnny tried not to snort at the arrogant sounding name for the arrogant boy. He said it with a small amount of fear, his hazel eyes darting between Ron, Harry and Johnny. His skin was pasty, and the freckles on his face contrasted greatly with it, "and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."
"Look," Hermione said, intervening swiftly, "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about -"
"It's okay, Hermione," Harry said. "What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" he asked, looking Zacharias straight in the face, which impressed Johnny. "I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you don't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."
This, Johnny realized, was probably why there were so many kids. No doubt most, if not all, wanted to know the truth. That, would likely not please Harry. The whole group seemed to hold its breath while Harry spoke.
"All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts." Zacharias said dismissively. "He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we'd all like to know -"
Finally, Johnny could not take it any longer.
"Did you come here to learn about a murder?" He said coolly, cutting the boy off. "Or did you come here to learn how to defend yourself properly?" Smith stared blankly at him, not knowing what to say. Perhaps a little surprised by Johnny's accent. Now all eyes were on him. "Shut up and listen, or the next time you interrupt I'm throwing you out." Johnny wasn't going to sit by and watch some dipshit dig up a traumatic memory of Harry's or undermine Hermione.
Harry cast him an appreciative look that spoke volumes without saying a word.
"So," Hermione said, her voice very high-pitched again. "So... like I was saying... if you want to learn some defense, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet, and where we're going to -"
What followed next was a flow of questions and answers about scheduling that Johnny didn't fully listen to, it's not as if he'd be participating. He thought back to when he received Hermione's letter. Initially, Molly had been against it, but after Arthur, Sirius and Tonks all pointed out that there was no harm, and that he wasn't the only Order member in the town, she relented. He was curious though, why Hermione would randomly invite him here. It's not as if they were close, not like he was with Sirius and Tonks.
The questions, the ones he did hear anyway, sounded ridiculous. He didn't know what a Patronus was, but apparently being able to do one was incredibly difficult, and yet Harry could no problem. He'd fought a dragon last year, apparently almost a hundred of whatever Dementor's were, a ginormous basilisk snake, and a few more things.
What the fuck was up with this school and wanting to kill Harry every year?
Johnny found it very concerning, but most of the students looked impressed, especially the Asian girl that sat next to Ron.
And despite Harry's attempts to downplay it all, in the end, when Hermione asked if everyone was okay with Harry teaching, there was a unanimous agreement, even from Zacharias, who looked at Johnny with a small amount of fear. Hermione then got everyone to sign with only a little bit of convincing being done on her part with two boys that eyed the parchment with hesitation.
"Well, I think that went quite well," Hermione said happily, as she, Harry, Johnny, and Ron walked out of the Hog's Head into the bright sunlight a few moments later, Harry and Ron still clutching their bottles of butterbeer.
"That Zacharias bloke's a wart," Ron said, who was glowering after the figure of Smith just discernible in the distance. Hermione caught Johnny nodding silently.
"I don't like him much either," she admitted, "but he overheard me talking to Ernie and Hannah at the Hufflepuff table and he seemed really interested in coming, so what could I say?"
"No," Johnny muttered, "definitely should have said no."
Ron then began talking about how he'd like to get his hands on the Hufflepuff boy, and Hermione tuned him out as they entered Scrivenshaft's. And while Harry and Ron milled about near the entrance, Johnny followed her in.
Just ask him.
"So... so what did you think?" She asked him. "About the meeting, I mean."
"Reminds me too much of presenting at school," he said, eyeing some of the quills, "one thing I definitely don't miss. But otherwise, it seemed to go alright, didn't it?"
She picked up one with an intricate jade design. "Have you ever done anything like that?"
He scoffed a little. "Like what? Start a little school rebellion? Nah, can't say that I have."
Well, not quite the response she was hoping for.
"Oh," she said, putting the quill back and turning to him, "I thought that -" but his eyes narrowed, and he cut her off.
"What are you insinuating?" He said dangerously.
"W-what?" Hermione said, startled. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable. "Nothing! I just -"
"Just what? 'Oh, Johnny gets into fights at school," he mocked, "he must be a delinquent!' "
"That's -" She tried again.
"I get that maybe to someone so sheltered and uptight like you, me wearing ripped jeans and a leather jacket might seem hardcore, or whatever, but I graduated high school with honours. The only fights I ever got into were against other bullies. I can't believe you."
Hermione didn't know what to say, because though maybe she wouldn't have been so harsh about how she said it, Johnny was essentially right. And she felt terrible. Harry and Ron must have noticed something was up, and they came closer to see what was going on.
"Johnny, Hermione?" Ron asked, looking wary. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah," Johnny breathed, nostrils flared in anger, "everything's fine. I'll catch you guys later."
As he left, Hermione couldn't help but feel she had just messed up a potential friendship royally.
He burst into the Hog's Head for the second time tonight.
How could she think that of him? Was she that susceptible to stereotypes? He may have listened to certain music others would turn their noses up to, and dressed a way that would not normally be approved of by upper class people, but that didn't make him stupid, or some criminal.
Fuming, he walked over to the woman covered in a black veil still seated at the same table she was earlier.
"Hello 'Dung," he greeted, "nice to see you again." Johnny grabbed Mundungus by his shoulder, and hefted him up.
"Oi!" He cried out in surprise. "Easy, Johnny, easy! How'd you know it was me?" The veil fell to reveal Mundungus' grimy face.
"Just take me back to Grimmauld Place," he snapped, "I'm not waiting the rest of the forty-five minutes for Tonks to come pick me up."
"Alright, alright then," Mundungus said, "keep yer shirt on."
With a pop, they were gone.