Ron Weasley was acting weird, Harry thought, looking at him staring off and smiling a goofy smile. That... really wasn't normal. Harry'd almost wonder if it was magic, but he'd been with Ron since last night (and even Ron warded his bed a little). Harry wanted to know what was going on, but he didn't exactly want to ask. He wanted, really wanted, Ron to snap out of it and tell him.
Naturally, Ron was his usual uncooperative self, to the point that Hermione was staring at him pointedly on their way to breakfast, and Ron didn't even notice. Normally, that'd cause a nice shoving match, or something else equally amusing. Not this time, though. Just that slightly-slackjawed grin.
Harry'd been so focused on Ron that he'd nearly forgotten Lavender and the rest of the Gryffs. They were looking at him oddly, as he sat down - and then he saw why. Over at the Slytherin table, Pansy Parkinson - Miss Pug herself - was so entirely busy "Not Staring" at Harry Potter. Well, if one could only say one nice thing about Lavender Brown, it would certainly be that she could pass information like a champion.
Unfortunately, this time, Harry was right in the thick of things. Gryffs were giving him scaly eyes - watchful to see what he'd do with Pansy (as if he'd ever do something like that in the great hall!).The Ravenclaws were mostly oblivious (Luna was waving at him, but she always did that, and with the sunflower in her hand it probably wasn't all that out of the ordinary.), but the Hufflepuffs were pingponging their eyes back and forth, trying to figure out what would happen next.
Harry ate quickly, quicker than ron, which was saying something, and then was out the door, heading off to his class. Etched on a corner of his brain that he wanted to burn, was the expression on Pansy's face as he fled like a coward. It was disgust. Disgust and resentment. Was she upset that he hadn't told her about the nonexistent crush? Or just upset that everyone was staring at her - and wondering if she was going to two-time Draco Malfoy, of all people?
Oh, yeah, yesterday morning he hadn't thought of that little filip at all. But in the plain day, right before Divination, it was plain to see. And, oh, crap, Divination. Perhaps... no, this wasn't going to work. There was little possibility that Trelawney had actually heard the rumor that had been started last evening, but Parvati and Lavender had started the rumor, and so thus they had to know about it. And they would embarrass him with their predictions.
Having eaten quickly, Harry'd arrived early. He stared a moment at the room, trying to find the least noticeable spot. No, that was stupid. Harry Potter sat in the center, knowing that this class was going to be bad. He hated when everyone stared at him. Where was Ron, anyway? Probably still eating.
Ron actually arrived after Lavender and Parvati (Harry didn't mind, he was just glad that the two "wonder pupils" didn't sit on either side of him. The last thing he needed was to listen to them in stereo).
"Harry!" Parvati said, "You won't believe what I found in my leaves this morning!"
"Oh?" Harry asked, trying for a semblance of politeness that he really, really didn't feel.
"The leaves say that you and Pansy are a most fortuitous match!" Yeah, if you mean she gets to murder me in my sleep.
Lavender smiled a bright, mean smile, and said, "I think that Pansy's trying to get your attention."
"Yeah, I've seen the way she looks at you and giggles, like, constantly, " Sue Bones put in from a row behind, and Harry wanted to groan. What was wrong with people?! he thought. Pansy looked at him like that because Malfoy was making snide comments (Harry hadn't actually heard any of them to know if they were funny or not, so he wasn't going to make judgements on the girl's sense of humor).
Still, at least Pansy wasn't in the class. Or Malfoy. Although,
Harry was getting strange glances from Millicent. Appraising glances. As if she was thinking about him in a whole new light...
This could be bad.
Ron acted weird all day - Harry had to avoid kicking his friend at lunch, out of sheer frustration about what in the world was wrong with him. He'd normally have suspected the twins had him high on something (he was certainly acting high as a kite...), but as they weren't even in the school, and Ron hadn't gotten any mail, AND Ginny wasn't pissed off at Ron today...
It was really rather unlikely. Maybe it was someone else's version of a prank? But, even so, that'd be a prank that'd happened sometime when Ron was in bed. And Dean and Seamus woulda come up with something more... flagrant. Neville certainly didn't seem the pranking type - at least not this type of prank. Harry could actually see Neville spritzing someone with a fragrance that their sweetheart was allergic to. And then manage to look innocent the whole while, laughing his butt off in the backalley, when the sweetheart's throat started to choke, not from nerves but swelling!
Anyway, whatever was up with Ron couldn't be terribly serious, as he hadn't said anything to his best friends. Harry could tell that by lunch the rumor had made its way to the Slytherin table - Pansy was studiously not looking at him, in such a way that she might as well have posted a sign "Not Looking at Potter. Couldn't Possibly Care Less." She was giggling with Tracy Davis and Millicent, and it was quite clear that she didn't have a care in the world. Except for the way she wasn't looking at Harry.
Of course, looking over at the Slytherin table to observe Parkinson was a new experience for Harry... However, in glancing that way, he found one very familiar pair of gray eyes looking back at him. And that look? It spoke volumes. Disgust, a strong thread of "Parkinson? Really?", disbelief. And yet, with all the emotions coursing through that look, Harry couldn't tell whether Malfoy actually believed the rumor, or whether he was just pretending to believe.
The rest of the day's classes passed in a blur, Harry trying to do his best to pay attention, but his nerves were rattled by the thought of his "detention" with Snape. Crap. He hadn't even told his friends about the detention, had he? Maybe he could pass off to Ron that he'd gotten it in the hallway? (Hermione'd know better, of course, but... she probably wouldn't tell). Still, it was bad policy that. No, he'd say he got an extra detention for mouthing off after class, and that Snape had decided to spring it on him. Random and arbitrarily dickish punishments were the man's speed, after all. Nobody could possibly say that was unusual.
One of the seventh year Slytherins, Frieda, saw Harry Potter walking towards Snape's office. Of course, since it was down in the dungeons, she felt free to misconstrue where he was going. Or so Harry supposed, as he'd never been sighted even trying to find the Slytherin Common Room, because she said, "Aww... Is poor little Harry Potter lovesick? Take a right there, and turn down the second corridor, and knock on the wooden cask, and ask for Pansy." She left off her directions with a giggle, and when Harry turned towards Snape's office instead (he had that path memorized from sheer repetition), she catcalled, "Aww, did I embarrass him? Everyone knows, Harry, everyone knows!" Her giggle set his teeth on edge, and he buried that emotion down in his gut.
He stood at Snape's ironbound door, and knocked.
"Enter." Snape said promptly. Harry was only slightly relieved, at least he wouldn't have to stand outside and wait.
Harry Potter couldn't quite quelch the sinking feeling as he strode into Snape's office. It was a small, cramped place - more from the oddities clustered everywhere than from actual lack of space. There was an aborted fetus, eyeballs of all sizes, even what looked to be a cow's head, shorn of it's skin, eyeball half deflated*. All manner of grotesqueries and horrors. Knowing Snape, Harry wouldn't have put it past him to have 'decorated' his office simply to discourage 'idle conversation.' Of course, he was a potions master. Perhaps Hermione would be able to look at the whole place, and tell exactly what Snape was insinuating with his parts collection. Did that eye just wink at him? Harry shook his head, closing the door.
"Yes, Potter?" Snape's voice slid like silk on smooth stone, the expectancy turning it into a soft garotte, ready to strangle him if he didn't get a move on.
"What exactly are you planning?" Harry asked, surprised at his own tone - it was wide-eyed disbelief. Not anger, not exasperation, just a steadied curiosity, backed with a subtle demand.
"Indoor voice, Mister Potter. Unexpected, but welcome." Snape looked smug, but then again, he nearly always looked smug, even - like now - when he was scowling. Still, his eyes said a different story - the lightness in their dark depths hinted at a deeply buried amusement. "As to your question," Snape said, knitting his fingers together, "Rather a lot of things. I'm afraid if you want specifics, you'll have to be specific in turn."
"Why the Inquisition Squad?" Harry asked, glad to hear his voice level and flat.
"How else do you have an illicit club, except by making it so?" Snape said, and continued, "You do know the rules for student clubs - they require a teacher to supervise."
Harry's eyes widened. Snape wasn't ... putting it on him, for not having ... asked? Shite, he was! "But... you could have..."
Snape's response was a mocking smirk. Harry's eyes narrowed, as he continued his runaway train of thought, "And you didn't. You wanted an illicit club - why?"
"You may consider that a homework assignment, Mister Potter." Snape said mildly, his voice warm with smugness and tinged slightly cold with reproof, "If you can come up with five reasons by the end of the month, I will tell you mine."
Harry wasn't quite sure what to do with that. The point of asking questions wasn't generally to be told to 'think harder' and 'find your own solutions,' was it?
"Why doesn't Malfoy know that you're playing both ends against the middle?" Harry Potter said.
Snape smirked, "He doesn't need to know, of course. You'll find there's very little reason to tell people things if you can predict how they'll react without them."
"Provided you like the way they'll respond, given incomplete information." Harry said dryly.
"Quite." Snape said.
"You knew he'd join!" Harry said, shaking his head, "And here I spent hours trying to figure out what to do about the Slytherins."
"Thought experiments are a useful exercise in many subjects." Snape said, leaning back in his chair and raising his arms to knit his hands above his head. "No Slytherin turns down a chance to be included in a secret lightly."
Harry said softly, "Like dangling catnip in front of a cat."
Snape nodded, and then drawled, "If there's nothing else pressing, I believe you have some summer homework assignments to complete."
Harry nodded, said, "Yes, sir," and started to work. It was incredibly difficult to think one thing, and do another, but if Harry concentrated on only spelling half the word, he could say a longer spell than he actually cast. In battle, this wouldn't last two uses - but Harry'd learnt that battles were quick and brutal things, and that any advantage could save your life.
Two hours later, Snape drawled, "Your detention is over, Mister Potter." He paused, his inky eyes appraising Potter, before continuing, "Although I did want to request that you persuade someone to teach that illicit club the Patronus spell in the next week or so..."
Harry thought about that, nodding, "Teach the Patronus - it's one of the few "harmless" battle spells, isn't it? A good one to reinforce cooperation, particularly when someone's going to be paranoid that anything that gets taught will be used against them."
Snape nodded, "Not only that, Potter, but it's also a blazingly strong Light spell. Many will recognize, if only by spell, that people they previously thought were 'probably evil' have at least a pearl of goodness in them."
Harry had to fight back a snort at Snape using that metaphor. "And it'll make the Slytherins feel behind - I've already taught it to the DA." Harry offered, and Snape nodded his understainding, "Which will just make them work the harder." Harry nodded decisively, "I'll see it done."
Harry stumbled out of Snape's office, bone-weary. He made it out of the dungeons without incident, for which he was very glad, as he couldn't have stopped Crabbe from cursing him. He was asleep before he hit his pillow in Gryffindor Tower.
Wednesday dawned with lead gray clouds, and Harry suppressed a sigh. Apparently this wasn't going to be one of those wonderful Scottish autumn mornings. Ron was already awake - dressed, even, and Harry knew he was supposed to be doing... something.
Ah! Breakfast! His stomach demanded it, and so its needs must be satisfied. Harry sprung into action, rinsing hurriedly before shucking on his robes (he was glad that they had uniforms, and that he didn't need to iron them. Mental Note: Thank Dobby later.).
Harry flung himself down the stairs towards the Great Hall, his friends hurrying after him. His arms were outflung, and he laughed with the sheer joy of running, of plummeting as quickly as he could towards the Great Hall.
As he rounded the stairs onto the proper floor, he saw Snape and McGonagall staring at him with identical expressions of surprise. Halting his pell-mell run, he chortled at their expressions, continuing on at a more sedate pace towards the Great Hall. Hermione, he was sure, looked quite apologetic right behind him.
It took him till he was sitting down, munching happily on a bagel, before he started to worry about what Snape and McGonagall had been talking about. That, in of itself, was unusual. They usually fought like cats and dogs - generally about Quiddich, though occasionally about detentions and house points and even teaching styles. Harry mentally winced away from the time he had caught them arguing about that last one - it'd been over Christmas, and you'd think that teachers would stop caring about class then...
Harry happened to look up just as Ginny was sitting down, grinning a messy greeting at her. Behind her, he saw Pansy Parkinson pointedly looking at him. Was she going to try something in the Great Hall? That'd be just lovely.
In his pocket, he started to feel a sudden warmth. Sticking his hand down into it in alarm, he focused his eyes on the plate of tarts in front of him. Feeling around, he felt the warm of that galleon Hermione'd charmed. Oh, maybe she just wanted to talk about... Mentally, he shook his head. That was overly optimistic, even for him.
A glance of his eyes up at the High Table put Snape directly in his vision. Snape! Harry thought with a good deal of alarm. Crap! I've got his class today, and I haven't done the assignment!
Taking his most hopeful puppy dog expression, Harry Potter turned it on Hermione. "Hermione, could I borrow your homework for Defense?"
Hermione leveled a glare at him, and Harry tried to look more woebegone. "You might be better off if you tried it yourself, first, honestly." Hermione said crossly.
"Hermione-" Harry whined.
"No, I'm serious. I can't tell you if a single one of my theories has any semblance of truth." Hermione said.
As Harry frantically began to copy her homework, he saw what she meant. It had been clear to everyone that the Slytherins had won the crosshouse match by stacking their moderate to good students in the lower ranks. Sure, he'd beat Malfoy, and Parkinson had gone down like a wet balloon. But the others had been at least decent, even if Goyle and Crabbe hadn't won so much by magic as by sheer strength.
"Maybe you should have asked Dra-co," Parvati giggled, and Harry glared at her. Malfoy and I aren't on speaking terms, even in the best of times.
"Or your own true love, Pansy-flower." Lavender said, batting her eyelashes at Harry Potter.
Harry wanted to go storming off, wanted... to punch the girls in the face, though of course he wouldn't...
Harry had forgotten that his next class was Snape's. So, when he left the Great Hall (homework only half done), he was nearly first there. Davis was there, as were a few Ravenclaws - but that wasn't the point. The point was Davis could solve his homework dilemma! Harry blinked for a moment, before deciding that he might as well try channeling Lockhart. It wasn't like Tracy'd know the difference - she'd never spoken to him before.
"Hey, Davis, could you clue me in on our homework assignment?" Potter asked, smiling a wide and cheery grin.
"I'm. Not. Telling. Anyone." Davis grit out between her teeth, giving a glare that Snape would be proud of. "And that goes doubly for you, Harry Potter."
Harry reared back, a little stung and a little hurt. Then he quickly grounded himself, turning away with a dark scowl.
"Oh, look, it's Perfect Potter, perfectly scowling. Something not go your way, pretty boy?" Draco Malfoy drawled. However, the words seemed to bleed from Harry Potter's mind, the instant he saw who Malfoy had walked in with - Pansy Parkinson. Who was looking at him. Studying him, really, but Harry didn't have time to keep staring. Instead, he turned his face towards the lectern, thinking furiously: Shite. Not in Defense. Please, for the love of god, leave me alone, Harry thought, wishing that he'd learnt telepathy rather than failing at learning how to occlude.
And then a miracle happened - Dean and Seamus were in class early. Harry nearly flung himself over towards them, trying his best to disappear into a Gryffindor Group, that would hopefully be too intimidating for Pansy to brave by her lonesome. Harry slid into and through groups as more people piled in (avoiding the Gryffindor girls, of course, as Parvati would probably fling him at Pansy, just to see the piranha eat him alive).
Ron arrived with Hermione, his face still... dreamy and smiling. What in the world was wrong with him? Harry thought crossly. I've told him everything that's ever been in my head, practically. It's gotta be something important, right? You don't check out of an entire day's worth of classes (including Hagrid's) without it being something... important, right?
"Turn in your homework." Snape said as he arrived in class. There were smirks from the Slytherins, and the rest of the class turned in ... what looked to be disgraceful work. At least, Harry judged that from people's expressions. Ron's, and Dean's, and a few other people who had never cared for Defense's expressions looked decent, but other people (Hermione especially) looked guilty. Susan Bones looked actively ashamed. Harry almost wanted to stop class just to ask Snape why he'd assigned something that clearly no one had been able to answer. His sense of self-preservation (yes, it exists!) kicked in, and held his tongue captive.
Snape paged through the entire stack, and then scowled, "Did no one think to ask a member of Slytherin House?" Behind him, Malfoy smirked. Hermione looked ruddy embarrassed, but there were plenty of Hufflepuffs nodding - and scowling darkly.
Zach spoke up, saying stoutly, "I asked. I asked everyone - except Malfoy, who wouldn't have answered anyway." Malfoy smirked, again, and gave a little bow. And then hopped, as apparently someone had decided a stinging hex to the foot was a good way to manage the stage.
Snape turned his dark gaze to the Slytherins, "Do you have anything to say for yourselves?"
Goyle spoke up, his voice turning like gravel under hooves, "Slytherin business is for Slytherins only."
"Then you should have thought about that, before displaying it in front of your entire year." Snape said acidly. "I would have thought that you might have shown some judgement, some shred of intelligent thought, and asked yourself Why I would assign a homework assignment that I didn't expect to be completed?"
The Slytherins shuffled back and forth, and Snape looked at the rest of the class, saying in that silken soft voice, "You might have asked me, you know?"
Snape's inky black eyes looked over the entire room, and he said crisply, "As payment for your lack of creativity or intelligent thought - don't ask me which is worse - You'll be targets today. The spell is the stinging hex, and you may begin at my word. No shields, class. Dodging's the game."
Was Snape mad? Harry had to think. Giving them such an assignment, when everyone was likely to already be ticked at the Slytherins? Perhaps he simply, truly believed that students wouldn't dare make trouble with Snape in the room. Harry risked a glance at Snape, and rapidly concluded that getting on his bad side today was not a pleasant prospect.
The defense classroom exploded into stinging hexes, with half the time people zapping friends rather than anyone else. Harry Potter dove for cover, more out of instinct than any real strategy. From there, he stuck his head up to throw a few token hexes - one of them at Pansy, who shrieked and turned towards him as he ducked down again. I hope she didn't see me...
Snape was at the front of the classroom, holding the only shield in class. He very clearly had a parchment and was recording notes on it (more like tick marks, Harry realized).
Oww! Harry felt the sting of a hex, and turned to find Susan Bones readying another. He went into a roll, trying to work his magic into a hex without needing to target it with his wand. Instead of doing what he wanted, he felt the static sting explode out of him.
Shite! Get back here! Harry thought, and, wonder of all wonders, when he pulled his magic back into himself, the stinging came back too. Just in time for him to get another hex in the tush.
"Rolling on the floor doesn't work well if you stop out of cover." Malfoy drawled, seeming not to notice the hexes coming at him (Hermione's were glowing a lovely blue, which meant that she wasn't strictly casting the right spell, even.) Maybe he was just numb?
Harry rolled himself to his feet, finding a grace that he'd practiced brutally over the summer, and then threw a hex at Malfoy. He then ducked to avoid a misaimed hex from Hermione, who was drawing close - Ron was paired with her, and they seemed to be making an effective team.
"Halt." Snape's voice cut through the din. "Take your ten worst shots and describe how you'll improve their effectivity." Snape purred.
Well, there's one homework assignment that I'm not going to be able to complete. Better not lie, either.
"Class dismissed." Snape said. Seconds later, the room erupted in a series of groans, whimpers, and even a few tears. Harry's eyes met Malfoy's - and for a wonder Malfoy wasn't exaggerating his injuries. In fact, he was acting as if he hadn't been the target for half the Gryffindors.
Interesting.
Harry was out of the classroom, and he thought he'd cleared enough of the scrum to make it to Transfiguration on time, when he saw the Slytherins, who were heading towards Charms... Shite.
Pansy Parkinson sashayed towards him, and Harry gulped, thinking, What if she thinks I really do like her? How do I go about letting her down gently?
"Harry, dear, if we're going to go out, you're going to have to do something about your friends. I really won't be seen with someone who's friends with blood traitors and... mudbloods." Pansy was talking as if they were actually already... Harry's mind boggled, and then bobbled, and then he saw red.
"No, thanks, Pansy dear." He responded firmly, "My friends are more important to me than you are."
"Pity." Pansy said, seeming unaffected as she flicked her hair over her shoulder and swayed back towards the Slytherins. One couldn't say a nice thing about her face, but she sure did have a nice figure.
And, of course, now that Harry was looking towards the Slytherins, he could see Malfoy smirking at him, his silver eyes wide, as if to say, "Well, how about that?" But Harry wasn't about to make the mistake of thinking that he knew what any Slytherin meant with a look.
It wasn't until shortly after lunch that Harry pulled the galleon out of his pocket, checking it in a little used supply closet. Tommorrow. 7pm - that made it directly after dinner, and gave them about three hours (comfortably speaking) to cover something.
The Patronus was really a brilliant thing to cover, Harry thought, as he walked into his next class. Now, I just have to make sure that's what's on the menu. He wrote a neat message on the back of his coin, and settled in to wait until after dinner. His mind was full of ideas, so many that it spun, but he figured he'd be able to put together something coherent, on the spot.
Harry strolled out of the castle, enjoying the crisp autumn air on his face. He headed towards the rushes and stones by the Black Lake.
Hannah was standing there, and Harry's breath hitched a second when he saw her. She was looking... was that makeup?
Shite. Shite. Shite. Please tell me that wasn't for me!
"Hannah," Harry said softly, and she turned towards him.
"Harry!" She said excitedly, "You wanted to meet me out here? Want to take a walk?"
"Sure, I guess," Harry said, shrugging uncomfortably.
"I was thinking about the DA..." Harry started, as Hannah just looked over at him.
"Yes, Harry?" she said, dimpling.
"Could you maybe start tommorrow by teaching the Patronus?" Harry said, "You've always been one of the best at getting other people to find their own."
Hannah smiled, saying, "Oh, Harry, you say the sweetest things." Her smile seemed - warmer? than it had just a few moments ago. "I'm not sure how well I'll be able to do with the Slytherins, though..."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked uncomfortably.
"Well, they always seem so... closed. And cold. Awfully, chillily cold." Hannah continued.
"That hasn't been my experience." Harry said, shuffling his feet.
"Well, of course not, you always hang around Malfoy." Hannah said, laughing.
"Other way round, actually..." Harry said, "Malfoy hangs around me. Kinda like a lost owl..."
Hannah laughed at that, and then turned her blue eyes on him, as she tugged at her neat pigtails, "Was that why you wanted to meet me?"
Harry swallowed, feeling incredibly awkward, "Um, yes?" And he turned hopefully baffled eyes at her.
"Oh, thank god!" Hannah said, as she gathered him into a meaty full-contact hug.
With all her bits pressed against Harry's, Hannah continued, "It's just that Susan said... And then she made me dress up..."
Harry pulled back a bit to watch Hannah's head, still resting on his shoulder and definitely not looking at him. "I didn't want to hurt your feelings!"
Harry snickered, and then chortled, and then he was laughing. "And here, I was worried that you'd gotten the wrong idea, and that I'd have to let you down gently..."
Hannah pulled back herself, and looked Harry in the eyes, "No, not me! That was Susan!"
They laughed together, relaxed again, as they walked back to the castle.
Severus Snape was late to the Staff Meeting. He considered it a mark of extreme disrespect to abstain from punctuality, which says quite a lot about the disdain in which he holds these... meetings. More likely gossip sessions. Snape thought, as he entered the room, three minutes late as usual. Far be it for anyone to notice that Snape was late - they were all caught up in listening to Filius talk about his nephew's daughter-in-law, and her child's precocious use of letters at the ripe age of three.
"Ah, there you are, Severus! Now, we can start the meeting." Albus Dumbledore said cheerfully, and Snape quelched the urge to roll his eyes. Dumbledore said the same thing every time, and it was always irritating. Snape would have preferred a lecture - when he'd started showing up late, over a dozen years ago. By this point, his rudeness had become mere habit, and no one ever noticed a habit. Perhaps next staff meeting he should show up five minutes early? Hm, the idea had merit. Perhaps if he offered everyone some ripe Durian, the room might clear out in less than half the usual time. Hm, he thought, I should see if I can stomach the fruit, first.
Snape's eyes grazed the rest of the table as he found his seat - stiff, high-backed, and brutally uncomfortable. But it was in a corner, and so it was just how Snape liked it. Besides, the height of the chair made his malproportioned body look a little more natural. Everyone else sat more comfortably elsewhere, and Snape's eyes lingered just a touch on the other Heads of House.
The meeting began, as they usually did, with a few scattered announcements. Mostly Filch going on about who had stopped the toilets up, and which ones were not to be used under any circumstances.* Then Poppy stood up, and proffered a list of healing potions, which Severus accepted with ill grace. He'd been making the infirmary's potions for ages, of course, but he still resented the waste of his time. If only he dared to take on an apprentice. It was a futile dream - so long as his two masters stood, he couldn't, wouldn't, put someone else between them, for them to scrabble over like dogs worrying a shared bone.
Snape had hardly a word that he wanted to say about the students under his tutelage. He wasn't prone to gossip under the best of circumstances (Slytherins generally weren't), but he honestly found the daily trials and tribulations of your garden variety adolescent to be boring beyond belief. Still, when one kept ones mouth closed and ears open, one tended to figure out problems that would otherwise pass unnoticed.
Snape kept a weather eye on Tonks, because he wasn't teaching any of the younger students. In his experience, the most hapless students tended to show their deficiencies in Defense or Potions (only Malfoy could fail Care of Magical Creatures - Hagrid was a notoriously soft mark, and he delighted in extra credit). He noticed that she was doing a better job spotting the failures than any new teacher he'd encountered, excluding himself of course.
As the meeting droned on, Snape tuned out more and more, content to think about the optimal way to arrange his lab to finish the medicinal potions in the least amount of time.
Filius, of course, chimed in, "There's something strange going on with Miss Granger, I fear." Flitwick nearly twittered his unease, Snape saw with an inwardly turned, toothy grin.
"I just don't know what's wrong with Miss Granger!" Minerva McGonagall chimed in, "She hasn't performed a transfiguration all term!"
Albus Dumbledore smiled, and said, "Perhaps she's been distracted, recently?"
"No, Albus, you don't understand!" Minerva said crossly, her Scottish brogue starting to surface in her aggravated state, "I didn't say that she mangled them, she hasn't done one!"
"She hasn't even started a transfiguration?" Professor Sprout said, leaning forward.
"No!" Minerva nearly shrieked.
"I haven't noticed any problems in my class." Sinestra put in.
"Severus, nothing at all to say? How odd." Minerva bit out, her eyes sharp as lion's claws as they tried to pierce Snape's uncharacteristic lethargy.
"I assure you, I have volumes to say about the knowitall." Snape bit back, his words as sharp as Minerva's eyes. "However, in this rare moment, you have caught me all speechless with surprise."
Severus was gratified to see the other teachers stirring around him. Finally, Hooch said bluntly, "You haven't noticed?"
"Miss Granger is performing nearly adequately in both my subjects, yes." Snape drawled, "I would certainly have mentioned it otherwise."
"Severus Snape!" Minerva said, trying for 'you're my student and you'll do as I say', but instead getting 'I'm an old woman and will tan your britches if you don't tell.' "What do you know about Miss Granger's condition?"
"Minerva, I fail to see why you would even think that I'd have any knowledge of a condition that I have failed to observe in my own classes." Snape drawled. Minerva eyed him skeptically, which was to her credit. "I do think that it is the duty of all teachers to bring magical conditions to the attention of our resident healer, just as much as physical ones - rather than saving them as juicy bits to fill up our admittedly dull staff meeting."
Abruptly, everyone in the room was glaring at him. Fine, Snape thought, before continuing, "If I had to hazard a guess, the issue is magical discipline, rather than a sudden magical void. It seems most likely that Miss Granger is merely going through a magical growth spurt, where her magic has outgrown her control, temporarily speaking of course."
"How long would this be likely to last?" Professor Burbage asked, looking quite horrified, "Albus, you can't possibly..."
Albus' eyes twinkled, indicating that yes, he probably could - whatever Burbage was thinking, which was probably bend the rules until the Gryffindor Golden Child could perform her magic proficiently again.
"I certainly have no adequate basis for this guess, but I'd venture to say by Christmas." Snape drawled, a grimace briefly surfacing at the mention of Christmas. Minerva's eyes were still sharp upon him, and they moved on to... Draco Malfoy, by way of Minerva complaining about his 'relentless' bullying of Granger.
The news was all over school by Thursday Morning.
Unfortunately, the subject of the gossip hadn't heard about it, yet.
So, Harry Potter was rather perplexed to see the entire school of children staring at him as he walked into the Great Hall. Suppressing the urge to yell WHAT at the top of his lungs, he sat down.
Marlena asked, from down the Gryffindor table, "What I don't get is why a Slytherin, of all people? Gryffindor girls are plenty better than those tramps!"
"Maybe he wants a tramp," another voice said, trying to sound knowledgeable.
Harry simply concentrated on not setting the entire table on fire. After a bit of time, he said, coldly and clearly, "That is despicable. I doubt you've even talked to the Slytherins in your own grade, let alone the ones in mine."
The girl down the table turned hurt brown eyes on him. He blinked, and continued - his anger overcoming his 'let's be nice' side. "As for why not a Gryffindor girl? Have you looked around? The Gryffindor girls are all bombshells - well, except for Hermione, who's just pretty." The whole table was staring at him by this point. "Bit intimidating, don't you think?" he said.
"Harry, you don't have a crush on me, do you?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide - and for once, Harry'd absolutely no clue what she was thinking.
"'Course not, Hermione - if I did, I'd tell you. Otherwise it'd get weird." Harry said, and he watched Hermione subside into her seat. He hoped that'd been the right thing to say - he certainly didn't want to give his best friend a complex or something. Harry was thankful that at least he'd managed to sound normal... I always was shite at lying.
After breakfast was worse, if you can believe it. Harry hardly could. The glares from the Gryffindor girls were bad enough... but he couldn't get five feet outside the Great Hall before there were four girls sighing over him. Not that Harry hated girls or anything... but these? They were all over him - and it had been a long time since Harry'd liked the feel of people touching him. Felt confining, really.
Luckily, Ron was right behind him, and capable of looking more clueless than he usually did, with that distant, vacant smile. "Harry, Charms is this way..." He called, and Harry Potter wriggled out from between the girls.
It didn't help. There were more behind the corner.
And, um, having this many girls literally throwing themselves on a bloke wasn't doing much for his self control. Harry fervently hoped they weren't feeling what he was feeling. Because that would be embarrassing. Worse, they might decide that meant he liked them, and not stop this at once!
"Potter." Snape's voice slid out from a darkened passageway, and the girls around him scattered, more afraid of Snape than they were interested in mobbing Harry. For perhaps the first time, Harry was glad to see Severus Snape. "That will be one detention for blocking the hallway."
"But! That wasn't even me!" Harry sputtered, "They were climbing on me, not -"
"I saw." Snape said dryly, his eyes sparkling with amusement under eyebrows that said otherwise.
Unfortunately, there weren't always people around to rescue Harry, and he was a good fifteen minutes late to Herbology.
At dinnertime, three hufflepuff girls tried to invite themselves to sit beside him (Ron and Hermione being on the other side), when Gin came round to give them the blow off. They glared at her, and Hermione whispered, "I think they may have knives, better watch your back, Ginny."
Ginny gave a cock-eyed grin, saying, "Let them try." Man, Ginny looked hot when she smiled like that - a redhaired devil in robes. Harry's eyes settled briefly on ... pretty much everything but her face.
By the time Harry was headed up to the Room of Requirement, he was glad it was time to learn (even if he already knew everything being taught). At least that might keep the girls off him for a bit.
I can't wait for class to be over. Harry thought, then continued grimly, I can't wait for my life to be over. Everyone keeps staring at me, or worse, laughing behind my back. I don't even know what's so funny. OR why girls keep trying to climb me like a tree.
Last class of the day. All I have to do is run the gauntlet up to Transfiguration. Surely McGonagall won't let people laugh at me in class?
Harry bolted out of Charms, dodging myriad robe-clad figures (unidentified in his haste). Two corridors away from Transfiguration, he froze.
Malfoy. Well, fuck.
Malfoy, of course, was wearing the new Inquisitional Emblem (a double-headed eagle), and looked like something straight out of Prussia. Well, Malfoy always looked like a Prussian Officer, it was something about how he stood, Harry idly supposed. Snapping his head back to the conversation, Harry heard Malfoy drawl, "No running in the corridors."
Moments later, the girls heading to Transfiguration noticed them both. Instead of getting to class on time, they turned, identical expressions of glee on their faces. (Well, except for Hermione, who looked startled, worried, and a trifle scared.)
They came for Harry Potter in a rush, like a sped up zombie movie.
Malfoy never stood a chance, standing with his back to them - by the time they were past, he was disheveled and sprawled on the floor, moaning so softly Harry lipread it rather than hearing it.
The girls were trying fifteen different ways to liplock with Harry - or press various soft portions of their anatomies on him. Though Harry was generally a big fan of girls', he really didn't like crowds, particularly crowds of people touching him.
It felt a lot more scary than the cupboard under the stair. There, he was just lonely. This reminded him of times that he'd gotten caught when Duds had gone Harry Hunting.
Squeezing his eyes perfectly shut, Harry swallowed, suddenly wanting to scream at the flashbacks and memories pouring through his brain. He could feel sparks and bright flashes of pain, as heavy feet landed on him.
Malfoy's drawl cut through the girls' giggles and light laughter. "That'll be a detention for each of you. Girls, yours will be with Filch. Potter, you can go sit with Snape." Harry was actually envious of how Malfoy could manage to get such varied vocal intonation into what was essentially a bellow. He made it sound like he was just talking, except louder.
Harry gritted his teeth loudly at Malfoy, and said, "Thanks for the detention, you're so kind."
Malfoy, as usual, just smirked in response.
Harry Potter found himself looking forward to DA (or whatever it was that Zach wanted to call it). At least there, he could be assured that people wouldn't be ogling him.
Arriving a few minutes before the appointed time, Harry Potter closed his eyes, and took several deep, calming breaths. Unbidden, some of Snape's words from one of their 'night lessons' leaped into his mind, "Every step you take disturbs the ground, the moss, even the rocks. Take care where you step, and bend only what needs bending."
There would be many people here, Harry hoped. He was going to have to keep his patience, to trust, in so far as he could, that other people could sway the populace.
Every word he spoke would carry more weight than needed, Harry Potter thought. People don't listen to what I say, after all, just that I'm speaking. Harry hadn't exactly gone out of his way to advertise that he wasn't The Chosen One.
Zach opened the door and beckoned Harry and a slim, slight Slytherin in. Harry took a moment to study the younger student, eventually remembering his name - Gils.
Harry Potter, remembering his lessons, tried to slip into the room with as little fuss as possible. It didn't work, but luckily, it was Parvati who was there, ready to pepper him with questions about Pansy, his broken heart and all that. Harry Potter regaled her quietly with the true story, knowing that Parvati was enough of a gossip that the whole thing might die down before the end of the day tomorrow.
Harry was actually surprised that the Slytherins came in singly. They stuck to the edges of the room, unsurprisingly, and didn't really clump together. All in all, they didn't look like they ever did around Hogwarts. They were silent, attentive, and watching. And many of them had looks on their faces that reminded Harry Potter quite vividly of Snape's "you are a bug" look. You know, the one where he inspects you, while looking down his nose.
The Hufflepuffs formed a big group near the center, except for Hannah and Zach, who were busy talking. Harry started to move towards them, only to be stopped by Luna, "Give them a moment. Hannah knows Zach well enough to handle him."
Harry was just considering introducing himself to someone new, when Hermione and Ron showed up. They were nearly the last people there (having apparently lost several shoes in the process of getting here.)
It was one minute early when Draco Malfoy stepped through the door, his face pinked and his hair slightly askew.
Everyone in the room (except the Slytherins and Harry) pulled their wands on him.
"Sorry I'm late," Draco Malfoy deadpan drawled with more aplomb than anyone deserved to have when there were so many angry wands pointed at him.
Harry nearly bit his tongue with the effort not to respond to Malfoy, who was being a pompous, arrogant sod. As always.
Instead, Seamus responded, hot-headily biting off, "Where are your little toadies, Frog Prince?" That was a bit more insult than Harry'd thought Seamus'd be capable of. A bit more intelligence too. Harry Potter was mildly surprised that it wasn't Ron exploding into action...
"With the kind assistance of Miss Granger's orange menace, they are chasing invisible mice in the dungeons." Draco Malfoy said, aiming a half-bow at Granger, who stared at him like she'd never seen him before. Then again, he'd never, ever been even the least bit nice to her.
"Invisible mice?" Luna said, nodding knowledgeably, "Did you summon them, or merely charm them invisible?"
"Summoned, of course," Draco Malfoy said, pulling out his wand and waving it in a complicated gesture (even as half the room tensed), saying the incantation too softly to hear. Several nearby girls screamed. Lavender, in particular, was really loud, "It ran on my foot! I could feel it's tail!"
Draco Malfoy sat there smirking, as the nearby people dissolved into chaos.
About three minutes later, people were back to glaring at Draco - this time with reason.
"I had wondered where Crooks got off to!" Hermione Granger was saying, loudly enough that Draco was sure to overhear.
"No surprise," Draco drawled, "Lot of mice and rats in the dungeon. It's because of all the Hufflepuffs."
"MAL-foy!" Zach hollered. "Be-have."
"Oh, spoil my fun, would you?" Draco said, sulking obviously in a manner that reminded Harry of a five year old.
"Hannah wanted first crack at teaching, so, without further ado, Hannah, you're up!" Zach said, and Hannah stepped onto a short dais.
"I'm not turning my back on Malfoy!" Parvati said quickly. "Who knows what foul ideas he's cooking up right now?"
"None, actually. I'm thinking proper red-blooded thoughts about your figure." Draco Malfoy drawled - everyone pointedly ignored him.
Boot spoke up, saying, "I don't precisely trust Malfoy either. Maybe we could petrify him?" Luna looked at Boot disappointedly, and he continued hopefully, "Maybe just for the lecture portion? Other than that, someone'll be able to always have a wand on him. I don't want him interrupting our class."
Malfoy, who clearly disliked the loss of everyone's attention, intoned in that irritating drawl of his, "Fi-ine."
So, it wasn't actually Malfoy who spoke up next. It was... Cressilda. "You're locking up Malfoy?! It's Potter you should watch your back around - he's the hothead!"
Harry did have to admit she had a point, at least in the safe confines of his head. Outside of it, agreeing with the Slytherin was probably dangerous.
It didn't take terribly long for other Slytherins to chime agreement as well, and even a few younger Hufflepuffs joined in.
In the end, Harry didn't say a word. Just looked at Ron and nodded. "Petrificus Totalis" his friend intoned, and Harry felt his whole body freeze, except for his eyes.
Speaking of eyes, Malfoy's were drilling into Ron's - clearly indicating ... Ah! Goyle spoke up, saying, "If you're looking for hotheads, why not freeze the male Weasel too?" Unlike when Malfoy said it, Goyle didn't come across like he was insulting Ron - more like it was "Just A Nickname." Perhaps just trying not to use his first name.
Zach spoke up then, saying, "It'll be enough to have one apiece. If any of the rest of you are pricks, the petrified representative will take the beating. So keep your wands in your pockets, at least until it's practice time."
Harry couldn't help but notice the assessing looks some of the Gryffindors were giving him. Plainly put, they looked like they'd prefer it if they could somehow get Potter hexed. Harry couldn't see Hermione at all, but he could feel her fury coming off of her like waves.
Ah, there she was, Harry thought as Hermione stepped forward, her hair starting to show little blue lightning bolts. "Anyone intentionally gets Harry hurt, and they answer to me." And then, out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione smile. That wasn't a Gryffindor smile, either. It was a cool, cold, Slytherin smile that said, "I will get you back, and it's really not worth it."
Harry was very glad Hermione was on his side. She could be downright scary when she wanted to be.
Draco Malfoy was petrified. Well, everything except for his eyes.
This had to be the strangest way to be taught ever.
Though, Draco idly supposed, it did keep his mouth shut - so at least someone was benefiting.
He'd been surprised by the Gryffindor reaction to petrifying Potter - they didn't seem to have much sense of unity in the first place, but actively wanting to hurt Potter? Now, Draco was a realist, and he wouldn't have been surprised if any Slytherin (even Pansy) would take a potshot at himself. He knew he had a sharp tongue and a nasty temper. Potter was sunshine and roses in comparison.
Draco listened as Hannah jumped onto the small dais (her small height making it crucial for being seen). "Attention, class, your teacher calls for silence!"
Surprisingly, most of the room quieted down, and even the whisperers were quiet enough to let her be heard.
Hannah continued, "We will be learning the Patronus spell this week. There will be three meetings, and by the end, I expect every one of you to be proficient." Draco wanted to frown, but realized that wasn't going to work. Man, this petrification was horrid.
Did Abbot not realize what the Patronus charm entailed? How was she teaching it, if so?
No, this was just stupid Hufflepuff optimism. Optimism that 'everyone's gotta have a good memory! a happy memory!"
Malfoy wondered if Potter was rolling his eyes half as hard as Malfoy was rolling his at this maudlin sentiment. Malfoy glanced over at Potter, and had the strangest intuition - that Potter was hating being petrified more than he was. Odd, that.
Hermione and the Ravenclaws took turns answering Abbot's questions, and Malfoy had to admit that it seemed like they'd already learned all about this. Hannah Abbot took several minutes explaining the incantation, and then called select people up to explain what their happy memory was. Granger's was "when I learned about Hogwarts", which was sadly typical and predictable (Imagine if she'd said "the time I slapped Malfoy across the face" - at least that wouldn't be boring!). At least with Potter petrified he couldn't be called on.
"Finite Incantem," Zach said, and Draco flexed his muscles, freeing them from the paralysis. Across the room, he noticed Harry Potter doing the same - except the look on his face was more like euphoria. Definitely strange, that.
Draco had a thousand different happy memories, and he started trying them one by one. And so he was rather upset when Susan Bones showed up, and tried to be helpful, "You're getting the incantation perfect. I think it's just the wrong memory." Draco shut her out of his skull, and continued, having moved on from 'times I tortured Potter' to childhood memories. Nothing really seemed to be working. Looking around, most Slytherins appeared to be having some deal of trouble.
"Why isn't anyone else having trouble?" Draco Malfoy asked
Luna breezed by, saying, "They learned it last year, of course. Neville's still practicing, because he never wants to screw up that spell."
Harry was quiet, watching Hannah interact with a remarkable lack of concern for people's houses. He'd have to ask her about that, she was displaying more maturity than ... well, most anyone else.
Hermione was near Magryta, showing her - again - how to create the appropriate sounds to cast the spell. Harry tuned them out almost absentmindedly. He noticed that a lot of the Gryffindors were looking mutinous...
Now was that upset at having to relearn, or upset that the Slytherins were learning about it?
Harry approached them (disliking the glares that he was getting - really, it wasn't like he'd actually kissed a Slytherin, even.), but instead of looking at them, he focused on the rest of the room, letting his eyes glance off knots of people.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked.
"We already know how to do this, Harry," Nevile said quietly.
"So, you're going to play telephone." Harry said, his mouth splitting into a wide grin.
"Telephone?" Seamus asked, still sounding suspicious.
"Yeah, telephone!" Dean chimed in. "Look, you can all cast Patronuses, right?"
"Patronii" Nott said from nearby, and Dean looked over with a shrugged "whatever."
"So, we're going to start passing messages. In a circle around the room."
"What good'll that do?" Tina asked, her tiny voice ringing out from behind Parvati.
"It's a game. Doesn't need to "do good" " Dean said roughly.
"It's for fun, sure," Harry said, noticing Ron coming over to join the group. "But the point of the game is... well, you'll see."
They split up, equidistant around the room. Harry noticed Malfoy eyeing Seamus and Ron as they took up positions behind his back. Harry flicked his wand, spelling the incantation precisely, thinking about his father, and how much he'd loved Harry. A silver stag stood in front of him, and he said to it, "The skyline was beautiful on fire, all twisted metal stretching upwards, everything washed in a thin pinkish haze." As he watched the stag leap towards Rickard, Harry turned towards the rest of the room.
Malfoy was looking at him, those silver eyes of his flashing, "Pretty words, Potty. Didn't think you knew half of them."
"It's a song." Harry said, flushing slightly, though he really did know the lyrics well.
"Must be a muggle song," Malfoy drawled, "Only they'd sing about something so gloomy."
"When dark's the only thing you've got, that's ripe for singing." Harry said, remembering days spent locked in a cupboard, where the only thought that rang in his head were scraps of songs.
"What would you know about the Dark?" Malfoy scoffed, his steely eyes arrogantly challenging.
"It's hearth and home to me." Harry Potter said softly, thinking back to days spent in the cupboard, and other days when the screams wouldn't leave him be, waking or asleep.
Malfoy closed his eyes and tried the Patronus charm again.
"Haven't got a happy memory, do you?" Harry Potter said, snickering as Malfoy turned blazingly angry eyes on him.
"Apparently not," Malfoy snapped, his generalized drawl evaporating completely.
"We'll have to do something about that," Harry said, speaking more to himself than to Malfoy, though he was sure Malfoy heard. Indeed, he wasn't the only one having a problem - by the end of class, only two Slytherins had managed the charm. The young William had turned a blindingly white smile on everyone in the room, though, casting the charm over and over again, his wolf spider flickering into being - once it got close enough to Ron to make him scream, which made William's joy quiet for a moment, as he came over to quietly apologize to Ron. Harry muffled a grin at the sight - good thing not all the Slytherins were Malfoy-level prats.
The other Slytherin was Goyle, and his corporeal patronus was a mooncalf, whose golden horns shone silver, and whose hoof stomping indicated that he was spoiling for a fight.
"Good class," Malfoy said to Hannah on his way out, "You'd better figure out how to teach happy, though, or everyone's just going to get frustrated."
They all waited until Malfoy was out of the room, and Hannah gave a big sigh, "He's right, you know."
"When I need to calm down a frightened creature, I generally sing to them," Goyle said slowly, "It calms them down, the patterns in the music..."
"So, you think we might could teach happy?" Harry put in.
"Yeah!" Boot said with a smile. "Why shouldn't we be able to?"
Hermione had that glittering look of unquenchable curiosity, and Harry just knew that she'd have a dozen ideas soon enough. "Let's meet before the next meeting, just us, and we'll figure something out."
Everyone was nodding as they left.
The Gryffindors, as a whole, seemed marginally more inclined to like Harry Potter after the lesson. Maybe it was just him establishing that he wasn't running away from prior commitments? He knew he probably shouldn't care that much, but they were his house. He really should have learned his lesson and stopped counting on them. But when was the last time he'd done something the right way - the first time? With a wince, Harry mentally heard himself shouting out for Sirius...
Hermione looked at him and winked, saying, "Well, we didn't die, so I guess that lesson worked out pretty well."
Harry nodded, not quite listening, then saying, "It wasn't my lesson! It was Hannah's!"
"Really...?" Hermione said, "So you were really taking Hannah for a walk around the lake?"
"well," harry said, suddenly staring down at his shoes. "maybe not..."
Later, Harry ascended to his room, going up earlier than anyone else because all of a sudden he felt ferociously tired, like his exhaustion would eat him alive.
On his bed was a golden coin. It looked like Hermione's golden galleon... except that it had a phoenix on it.
RoR 3:30pm Saturday
was what the coin read.
Harry picked it up, and found a small white note on his bed. "Newly minted." it said.
Hmph, Harry thought. Who could, would have written that?
More importantly, this was obviously an Order meeting, and Harry was excited. He hadn't seen mention of Voldemort in the papers for, oh, say, about five weeks now. It was vaguely worrisome.
Finally some answers!
Before he could spend another second worrying, sleep claimed him like an inexorable tide.
Hogsmeade Weekend! was Harry's first thought on rising. There's a special sort of life in Hogwarts whenever it's a Hogsmeade weekend, the snap and sizzle of possibilities (though, to be fair, Harry'd only been in Gryffindor Tower. He idly pictured a tenser, more snake-coiled-in-waiting intensity in the Slytherin common room, and then quietly giggled - of course they were just as excited. Wasn't Harry's fault if they were shite for showing it).
Harry flung his curtains open, finding Neville sitting up as he opened his curtains. "Ow!" Neville said, a golden coin falling from his face onto his morning wood. Poor Neville - he must not have noticed the coin last night.
Without a second thought (or a by your leave), Harry jumped into Neville's bed, pulling the curtains shut. "Keep that out of public view." Harry said in a low and reasonable voice (he'd plenty of experience at whispers being overheard, courtesy of Piers Polkins).
"What is it, Harry?" Neville asked, adopting the same reverential tone.
Explaining it all to Neville took only a handful of carefully chosen words. As Harry climbed out of Neville's bed, his mind echoed with a sparkly, grim thought** - Hermione was going to be insufferable when she realized that the Order had used her spell. Unless she'd helped them cast it... Harry shook his head - that note definitely didn't seem like her style.
Ron was actually looking at Harry for a chance, so Harry cheerfully told his own hunger to stuff a sock in it, and looked at his friend, "What is it, Ron, you haven't been yourself in days."
His eyes still looked distant, as he broke out again in that goofy, dazzled grin, "Lavender Brown - can you believe Lavender likes me?"
As a matter of fact, I can. She's not the swiftest knife in the drawer, that's for sure. Harry gave his friend a wide grin, nodding. "Oh, I've known that for years..." Harry said. I may not be much for paying attention to the entire bloody school, but I do know a thing or two about most Gryffindors.
Ron gave a wistful sigh through that distant grin.
Harry looked over at his friend again, asking, "Is that what's been turning you into a space cadet?"
"A what?" Ron said, and Harry immediately missed Hermione.
"A muggle at Hogwarts?" Harry responded.
"Oh! Yeah, kinda, I guess..." Ron scratched at the back of his neck, looking a bit awkward.
"so..." Harry said, "What are you gonna do about it?"
Ron looked at him, a brief flash of panic running through his eyes, "I have no idea..."
*saw one of these at the meat market when I was eight.
**picture sparkly slag heap - pretty, grim dour. All together!
[a/n: This author likes reviews. This author writes a good few stories, and the more reviews you give, the more story you get.]