The Prince-Who-Lived

Chapter Fifty-three

There wasn't much left to the trip. Alan was curious about Slughorn, and laughed when they said Green was going to be teaching. He reassured them that Green could teach and do so safely – he was probably getting sent here by his brothers in order for him to heal and not hurt himself again. Chances are his options were teach, or solitary confinement. Harry could see why he'd chosen teaching.

Leaving the train proved almost eventful. Between his companions, Harry struggled to make it to the carriage and, upon entering he put his head between his knees and still nearly succumbed to a panic attack. The crowds were making him feel ill – he doubted he'd eat much at the feast – but he didn't want to miss it. Neville sighed heavily and glared out the window for most of the trip. When they stepped out, Alan, Salvador and Lucille followed them as far as they could, but they split to sit down at the Slytherin table as they passed it. Luna glanced forward and pointed.

"If you need Hermione, she's right there. Ronald is just coming up behind you."

Harry glanced forward and swore thickly. Hermione was about two steps away from kissing Anthony Goldstein. A glance at Neville proved he had skipped Hermione and was firmly waving Ron and Ginny over – Harry took it upon himself to address Hermione, especially after he narrowly avoided getting bumped into by a second year.

"Hey, Hermione! Get over here, would you?"

Hermione looked up, ticked, but noticed Harry was the one calling and not Neville. She took several minutes to make up to Anthony about it, but Harry was having none of it. He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled, and Hermione stiffened and stalked over.

"What was that for, Harry? I was talking to Anthony!" She hissed.

"That's lovely." Harry said, and he meant it. "However, I'm busy trying not to scar some first year because they ran into me. And while I'd love to not inconvenience you with my current handicap, I think it's a something a friend would do to help me and not have a fit just because you're trying to make a highly unnecessary point, especially when you had agreed to help keep an eye out previously. If you feel helping will get in your way, then rescind your offer and just leave." Harry bit his lip and turned away. He was being snappy, and it was out of line. He softened his tone, and continued, "I'm sorry Hermione. I suppose we're all still a little sore from last year, but I do mean what I said. I hate this, and while this wasn't a problem on the train because I could have Alan and his help, when it's only Gryffindors I'm relatively limited to just you, Neville, and Ron and possible Seamus and Dean - especially when classes start. Please Hermione, I'm glad you're finding a boyfriend but don't ignore me for it when I need you."

"I'm sorry." Hermione deflated. "I … I was just thinking …"

"That I would take offence?" Neville offered. Hermione stiffened, but didn't correct him. "I left you, Hermione, not the other way around. I'm not going to be offended if you choose someone else after my mistakes. I will be offended if you choose someone else over helping Harry when you gave your word, though."

"Alright. C'mon." Hermione walked forward, leading the small group. Nanna came up beside Harry and took his hand carefully, beaming when Harry gave her a small smile. Melanie, behind them with Ginny and Ron, also brought up conversation in place of the awkwardness Harry, Neville, and Hermione were suffering, up to and through their seat at the middle of the table. Shortly after they'd sat down, Madam Pomfrey stood from the staff table and stalked over to them. She sent a short glare down at Harry, but asked kindly,

"Are you alright, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, Pomfrey, I'm fine." Harry smiled. "I've got a bit of a headache, but nothing much."

Pomfrey fished a phial out of her pocket and handed it over. "I suspected as much. Tension?" Harry nodded. "Drink this before bed, then. It's a calming potion and should help you sleep. And … here." She offered up a small pouch. "Inside are four half-doses of Dreamless sleep. You are only to use these if you wake in the middle of the night, before two, do you understand? They'll last four hours. And only one of them at a time. When you've used them up, come to me and I'll determine if you need more. You will inform me of every night you've used one, do you understand? And if you ever feel the need, my doors are open at any time. Even if you need to leave class, provided you come straight to me."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey." Harry nodded. Pomfrey frowned one more time and stalked back up to the staff table. Harry pocketed the pouch and the calming draught. He'd been taking a full dose of dreamless sleep off and on during the summer. Half-doses sounded weak, but he knew there was a risk of dependency. He refuses to rely on a drug, so he suffered through the nightmares and fought off the tiredness he was left with through force of will, and occasional nights free of dreams, through drugs or luck. None of his friends commented on it, although Hermione was unable to keep a softly pitying look from her face. He stubbornly ignored it, and glanced at the door, where the students continued to trickle in. Once they were all in, the Sorting would commence…

Harry was really only interested in a few students, and as the song was much the same as last year, with a bit of a positive lilt on the friendships, Harry didn't pay it much mind. The sorting didn't become interesting until the summons of 'Growman, Faith'.

Ginny immediately spoke up, "Wasn't there a Growman amongst Stephanie's friends?"

"Yes." Harry nodded. The hat wasn't on her head long before she went into Slytherin.

"Poor girl." Nanna offered. "There's some mean kids in the underclassmen."

"Like that boy you pick fights with?" Neville offered. "I still remember, you know."

"You remember everything!" Nanna complained.

"What boy? Nanna, I haven't heard of you getting into fights." Harry wondered, bewildered. Had he just completely missed it?

"That's because Kozumplik – Raina's little brother that's in Nanna's year – won't tell." Ginny answered. "Doesn't say word one about it."

"Hodges, Sable."

Harry immediately looked up as a black-haired girl with rather intense curls sat down on the stool and accepted the hat. Neville frowned. "I do hope she's not as miserable as Jonas."

"That would take effort." Ron added. "I don't think anybody liked Jonas."

"Your brothers like him well enough." Harry absently commented, waiting to see where the girl would go.

"Yeah, well, the twins are crazy." Ron shrugged. "Nothing to be done about that. Where is she likely to go?"

"Most Hodges are Ravenclaws or Slytherins." Harry offered. "I think your brothers are employing the only Gryffindor Hodges, currently."

"She's taking a while." Melanie added. "C'mon, get sorted. I wanna know where Connor's going."

Harry smiled faintly, and watched for the hat to straighten. It finally did so, and called out, "Ravenclaw!"

Harry clapped with the rest of the school, and waited out the next few students between Sable and Connor Longbottom. Neville's brother sat down with a nervous smile on his face, and waited several minutes as well before becoming a Hufflepuff. Neville laughed gleefully, "Oh, that is so Connor!"

"Completely expected, was it?" Harry asked, curiously.

"Not really; he could have been either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. He certainly wasn't Slytherin, and I didn't think he'd make Gryffindor, but Ravenclaw was a stretch. He'll be happy there, certainly. No pressure to live up to anything but sticking by your friends."

"That's always a good thing." Harry smiled.

"He's good at that." Melanie smiled, before both her expression and Neville's collapsed in remembrance. Harry didn't ask; he suspected he might know. Neville had been attacked at his home last Christmas, and his siblings had run across him in the time afterwards. Harry could only imagine how he'd lashed out at them and driven them completely batty with the unexpected hostility. He'd been a complete terror when he'd returned to school.

Hermione pulled them out of it with a soft word, "Hey, isn't Lucille's last name Pupp?"

"Yes." Harry quickly answered. "Why?"

"The boy sitting up there, he's Grant Pupp."

Harry blinked, and eyed him. He looked like a decent kid, and was smiling awkwardly under the hat, probably biting his lip.

"He was sitting in my compartment." Ginny spoke up. "He seems nice."

"Gryffindor!"

There was less clapping from the houses than expected. Lucille's mother had made her husband's name notorious: Gryffindor wasn't her kind of house. Grant walked down the aisle, moving to the edge of the new Gryffindors who hadn't been hailed further down, when Ginny waved at him. He hesitantly waved back, but still sat with the others. Ginny shrugged.

"Thought I'd offer. Can't be all bad if he made it into Gryffindor."

"That's fine." Harry smiled. "I'd have easily welcomed him for the time being at least."

The name following Grant's was unknown, but after him was "Redgrave, Tyler" Harry shushed the others, "Salvador said he was a Baker –" He managed, before the hat shouted, "Gryffindor."

"You sure about that?" Neville queried, eyebrow raised with amusement. Tyler immediately sat next to Grant, striking up a warm conversation.

Harry stuck out his tongue. "He was the godson of one of the Hodges, from what Salvador said. He's not a Hodges; he's a Baker. There's a difference." Harry sniffed snootily for emphasis.

"Anyone else to listen for?" Hermione asked quietly.

Harry shrugged. "Emmeline's daughter. She'll be one of the last."

It was a fair number of names before Catrin Vance was sorted. The houses were fairly full – the children being sorted were still those born in the hope and glory of the end of the first war, when people imagined they'd see peace, not war. Catrin went into Slytherin, much to their surprise, and only one other boy was sorted before Dumbledore stood and invited them to tuck in. Harry did so with interest, if not gusto. He wasn't particularly hungry, and didn't have much to say. He'd seen his friends several times over the summer, and the discussion during the sorting had been fine for him. He wanted it over with; he still had that headache.

Food made time pass quickly, alongside the discussion of the new first years. Before long, the food disappeared and Dumbledore stood to address the Hall, gaining his usual silence.

"The very best of evenings to you! Now … to our new students, welcome. To our old students, welcome back."

The greeting was utterly normal – except for the exclusion of banned items. Instead, Dumbledore moved into Quidditch, announcing the freeing of the position of commentator, and then into the staff appointments.

"I'm quite sorry to say that Filch proved an inadequate caretaker last year and has been released of his post." The announcement was met with several guttural agreements, and a grim smile from Harry, Neville, and Ginny. "His place will be taken for the short-term by Sybilla Harper, newly graduated of Durmstrang, until we find a new permanent caretaker. She maintains that all the old bans remain in effect and wishes me to mention she is indeed magical and therefore is not going to be quite as easy a target as Filch was."

Harry couldn't help but laugh with Neville at the veiled threat. Up the table, Harry noticed Tyler wave eagerly and Sybilla, standing at attention at the staff table, gave him a stiff nod, with a small smile. He subsided and immediately moved to talk under his breath to Grant beside him.

"We are pleased to welcome two new teachers to staff, who will be splitting the teaching of Potions between them. Professor Slughorn," The man stood without much effect and Harry felt a bit of foreboding in the similarity to Umbridge, something he quickly brushed off, "is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions Master."

"Potions?"

"Potions?"

It was amusing to watch Ron and Hermione panic, as he and Neville already had that news. Ginny was just smiling wryly and whispering with Melanie and Nanna. Neville shortly whispered the obvious to Hermione who quickly became thoughtful.

"Secondly, there will be another Potions Master on loan for this year, Master Quintelyuv." Green, sitting beside Severus, stood with a strained smile. "He will be taking the fifth through seventh year classes."

"In the meantime," Dumbledore merely talked over the frantic murmurs. "Professor Snape will be taking over the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Ron gaped, and Harry made a point to consider it, as he had neglected to do when Slughorn mentioned it. This would prove interesting. Snape had wanted the job – Alan had mentioned it, and apparently he'd finally succeeded. After a moment, Harry glanced up at Ron's frantic expression and frowned. "Ron, really. Calm down. He can't deny you entrance and you're better at Defence than you are at Potions."

"What about … Master Quintelyuv?" Ron managed with disgust. He clearly didn't like the title, but was unsure what to use since Dumbledore had used it.

"Master Quintelyuv is Green." Neville pointed out. "You met him, remember?"

"Not much." Ron groused. "You two met him a lot better than I did, running over to visit. I got stuck cleaning house."

Harry shrugged, "Yeah, well, that trip was nice up until the return trip. I think Green will be a pretty good teacher."

"If he doesn't blow something up." Neville amended.

Dumbledore cleared his throat to return attention to the front table. Harry hushed the others and glanced around. The move was clearly unpopular – not a lot of people liked Severus as a teacher, and Harry did hope he did better as a Defence teacher than as a Potions teacher. Dumbledore simply patiently waited until the return of silence and then moved past the staff appointments to more pressing news.

"Now, as everybody in this hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength."

This portent drew the strain in the room ever tighter – not many students wanted to face it, and an uncomfortable shudder moved across the hall. Harry scowled at the table. He didn't need a reminder, thank you very much, but it was needed for everyone else. It didn't mean he liked it though…

"I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure we are safe. The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff. I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them – in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of bed after hours. I implore you that should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others' safety."

Dumbledore's blue eyes swept the tables before he smiled once more, leaving Harry wondering why he hadn't focused on anybody – there were still some notorious rule-breakers, not the least of which was himself and Alan. Maybe … nah. He wouldn't. They didn't need any encouragement, really.

"But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"

The tables left quickly, Neville and Hermione shrugging off and leading the first years up to the dorms. Ginny begged off to stay with Nanna, Melanie and Ron in keeping Harry in a pool of calm. He insisted on waiting behind for most of the crowd to dissipate before he left. Hagrid came up behind them with a wide smile.

"Harry! Good to see ye! Dumbledore said ye were hurt, are ye doin' fine?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed quietly. "I'm doing great, and looking forward to your class."

Hagrid beamed. "I can't wait to see ye there, with all yer friends."

"It'll probably just be me Hagrid." Harry shrugged. "Ron might be joining me, though. You know how it is; there's so many classes to take, they couldn't find room."

Hagrid looked crestfallen, but picked himself back up quickly. "That's good, I know 'ow bad the classes are. So many options, they can't take everythin'."

Harry smiled weakly. "How's everything with you?"

"Good, good." Hagrid glanced at Harry's friends, but the hall was quite empty now. Harry was planning on leaving shortly, himself. He was feeling tired and wanted to put his headache to rest. "I was talkin' with Grawp earlier. He's doin' quite well. Dumbledore found him a place, a big cave. He's doin' mighty well. I'm thinking of training 'im up as my assistant."

"That's great, Hagrid. Keep in mind, though, he's huge." Harry cautioned. "That's really intimidating for most of us, you know?"

Hagrid blinked but nodded sagely. "Very true, very true. Ye need to get ter bed, then, Harry. See ye in class then?"

"Yeah." Harry grinned. "I'll see you then, if my brain hasn't fallen out of my ears."

Hagrid actually gave a loud, booming laugh and left, still chuckling. Harry shrugged to the others and wandered out of the Great Hall. He wasn't far before Nanna demanded an explanation of Grawp, which lasted until they reached the common room. Harry managed to get through and collapse on his bed, downing the calming potion and almost immediately falling asleep.

IIII

Harry did sleep relatively well – he woke early, covered in sweat and unable to remember the dream that had woken him. He couldn't talk himself into going back to sleep, and gave up to read through his Arithmancy text; it was five in the morning, anyways. That was the class he was least certain about being able to pass, but he did want to at least try. About an hour later, Neville and the others woke, finding him already dressed, sitting on his bed reading. Neville was less than pleased, but he understood. He didn't mention it as they went down the meet the girls, and had apparently talked Ron into not questioning it.

Down at breakfast, however, Ron immediately began to quietly praise the whole periods of freedom up until Neville snorted.

"Yeah, I do hope you enjoy your study time." He glanced back down at his OWLs and shook his head. "I'm going to die miserably alongside Hermione, Harry, Alan and Blaise. None of us are going to have any free time."

"Huh? What's going to happen to yours?"

"The rest of us are idiots." Harry offered with a smile. "We're taking on full schedules. I'm considering dropping a class or two but I want to see what the workload is like first."

Ron blinked. "Oh. That is going to make things a little difficult." Hermione, Neville, and Harry just laughed, and Ron immediately straightened, turning to a pompous tone. "Never fear, I shall do my best to advise you during the rare and beautiful hours you have free."

He succeeded in rendering all three of his friends into fits of laughter, much to McGonagall's amusement as she sent Parvati on her way, ignoring the dirty look the girl shot at their group. She quietly cleared her throat, and Neville handed her his OWL scores and his decisions. She looked it over and smiled.

"My my, Neville. I'm disappointed." Neville glanced up at her with a raised eyebrow. "You got an E."

"It was in History, ma'am." Neville answered cheekily. "Really. How am I supposed to learn when the teacher is insubstantial?"

"Indeed." McGonagall tapped a blank schedule and handed it down to Neville. "I'm most pleased to have you continuing my class, Neville. Carry on. Mr. Weasley?"

Ron nervously handed over his schedule and got a smile in return and a quick approval of his chosen classes. Ron was delighted with his schedule. He had free periods every day, and no class that morning. Harry waved McGonagall over to Hermione at Neville's silent insistence, and Hermione was cleared for the same classes as Neville with a brilliant smile from McGonagall at Hermione's straight O scores. Both of them bid Harry and Ron goodbye. Their first class was Ancient Runes and Harry wasn't taking that class. Harry handed his schedule over for a similar smile from McGonagall.

"An Outstanding in Transfiguration, Harry. I'm positively delighted." She glanced down his choices and nodded sharply. "Good work. I hope you enjoy your classes, and am quite looking forward to seeing you. Also, Harry, twenty hopefuls have already put down their names for Quidditch trials."

"Thank you." Harry grinned. "I'll tell you when I can get that together, although that seems a tad foolish with my workload."

"I trust you can manage it, Mr. Potter, and take your time. I know you're supposed to be careful for the next month or so." She gave him a sad smile and tapped a blank schedule and handed it over. "You're clear for all your choices."

Harry glanced over it and groaned; Ron laughed.

"What are you so upset about?"

"I've been up since five, and I don't have a class this morning. Not to mention I'm pretty much trapped until Wednesday."

Ron just laughed. Harry huffed and sighed. "Well, I suppose I should start plotting out how to manage the trials." Harry eyed Ron and raised his eyebrow. "You'd better beat all the hopeful keepers, you know. I don't want to train some idiot to work with everyone, right?"

Ron nodded confidently. "No problem. I've got more time to practice than you do, although I will say you've got plenty of skill so you won't be inconvenienced by your grounding at least."

"There is that." Harry nodded. "Let's go up to the common room and let me make sure I've got everything together. What classes do we have today?"

Ron glanced down. "I've got Defence, Care of Magical Creatures and Potions. What about you?"

"Same, plus Arithmancy." Harry shrugged. "Well, better get everything together. I should be running trials in a week or so."

Ron nodded and followed him upstairs.

An hour later, they were back down several floors and waiting for Hermione and the Slytherins outside of the Defence classroom. Hermione came up, chatting avidly with Anthony Goldstein. Neville was managing to pretend not to sulk fairly decently – had he not been walking just one step behind Blaise on the side opposite Hermione. Harry suppressed the desire to chuckle weakly at his friend's antics, and turned to give Alan a bright smile. Alan smiled back, but walked over and collapsed against the wall with a huge sigh.

"Ye gads!" He gasped. "So much freakin' homework! I think they're trying to drown us!"

"It can't have been that bad." Harry laughed.

"Fifteen-inch essay, two translations, and a book read by Wednesday." Neville recited. "Of course, I'm sure Alan will do fine as he's fabulous at Ancient Runes, but Hermione and I will be a tad challenged and Blaise was muttering foul deprecations upon the teacher as he did some work during class."

"I was not." Blaise retorted lightly. "How dare you imply such rudeness."

"Please, Blaise. I was sitting next to you for crying out loud." Neville grinned. "You can't hide from me."

Blaise sniffed delicately, and waved down Theodore. Theodore, however, only gave Blaise a careful nod, flicking his eyes to Pansy before walking over and delicately starting a conversation. Blaise watched with tight eyes, and glanced to Alan whose expression was almost a mirror. Harry leaned against the wall beside him.

"What's with him?"

"Paternal pressure." Alan answered lightly. "He's not giving in – he's assured me of that – but he does intend to sow discontent and lies. If anything goes too far, he's matured to have the charity of a vulture and is more than ready and willing to do him in." Alan smirked tightly. "He'll probably get away with it too." Alan caught a glimpse of Harry's careful expression and snorted. "He's got reason, Harry. His father lost his filial piety long ago, and taught him well how to freeze his blood."

Harry laughed shortly. "Such delightful friends you have, Alan."

Any further discussion was cut off - Snape opened the door and glared the students inside. Harry followed Alan with a faint smile and sat next to him – several of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were startled by the choice, more so when Neville settled next to Blaise. Hermione waved to Harry before settling by Anthony and several other Ravenclaws while Susan hailed Ron to sit with her and Kevin. Harry moved to pull out his book, but Alan stopped him and shook his head at Hermione across the room. Hermione listened, and then immediately turned to say something to Anthony that made him scowl. Harry was quite curious, but set it aside. As much leeway as Alan got, which extended to Harry, Severus remained a stern taskmaster. Thus, Harry remained quiet, glancing around the room. Seeing the décor, however, sparked a short comment to Alan.

"Quite fond of the dark ambience, isn't he?" Harry laughed, mostly to dispel his own unease at the darkness in the room. Alan frowned, and glanced up at Severus with a dark frown. Severus ignored it for the time being, but he gave a discrete motion – the curtain nearest them split ever so slightly to allow a sliver more light in. The hint in and of itself dispelled Harry's unease and he sighed in relief. He purposefully ignored the pictures, however. He didn't need to set himself off.

"I have not asked you to take out your books." Severus snapped, closing the door behind the last student and stalking to his desk to stare out across the classroom. "I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention."

Harry straightened curiously, watching Severus in exclusion of the gloom of the classroom. He met Severus' eyes with curiosity as he scanned the classroom, but Severus did not acknowledge it.

"You have had five teachers so far in this subject so far, I believe."

Thank you Captain Obvious, Harry immediately thought. He blanked his expression so as not to give his mirth away. Alan stepped on his foot; apparently he hadn't moved fast enough to escape his notice.

"Naturally these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an OWL in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the NEWT work, which will be much more advanced."

This announcement immediately got Neville's attention, and he followed Snape with his eyes as the teacher began to prowl the edges of the room. Harry could not argue his own interest either.

"The Dark Arts," Severus practically purred the words "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."

Harry found himself almost entranced by the caress Severus spoke with. He was even more surprised to find himself partially agreeing with him. He had found several Dark spells in his own explorations, and, while they frightened him, the power and promise were indeed entrancing. Harry wondered how powerful a draw Neville felt towards them with his sheer lust for knowledge. Was this why he'd learned Fiendfyre? Harry shook himself as Severus returned to a normal tone of voice, returning to paying more attention.

"Your defences must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures," Severus raised an arm their way and Harry completely ignored them, closing his eyes as he got the twinge of desire to look up, "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse," Oh, Harry knew that one too well, "feel the Dementor's kiss," He didn't want to know, "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius." Harry snorted. He hadn't thought they had to be provoked.

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" Parvati asked, fear pitching her voice into shrill territory. "Is it definite, is he using them?"

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," Severus answered dismissively, "which means you should be well-advised to assume he might use them again. No …" Severus resumed his pacing, back to his desk, "… you are, I believe, nearly novices in the use of nonverbal spells." Harry glanced at Alan. Oh. He'd taught himself that during third and fourth year, when Neville had abruptly decided to do so after inquiring to their parents. This was potentially going to be easy. "What is the advantage of a nonverbal spell?"

Several hands shot into the air, most of them obvious – they were all in Alan's coterie. After a moment's consideration, Severus pointed to Daphne.

"There's no warning about what spell you're going to use." Daphne answered. "It's a small, but sometimes important advantage."

"Indeed. Five points to Slytherin." Severus purred. "Those who progress to silent spell casting and no longer have to shout incantations gain an element of surprise over their opponent. Not all wizards can do this, of course: it is a question of concentration and mind power which some … lack." Severus scanned the class and lingered upon several faces. Harry noted with malicious interest that Parvati quailed under his gaze even as she stubbornly stared back. "You will divide into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."

The best that could be said was that the students knew the basics of jinxes and all could cast a plain shield. Geoffrey's teaching had managed to stick with them quite well. However, despite noting Neville's ability to cast silent spells, he hadn't gone over them, leaving it for sixth year. Several students attempted to cheat, whispering spells under their breath. Several of Alan's coterie had introduced the concept to the younger students, so while Harry, Neville, and Alan already had the skill in hand, Blaise, Theodore, Hermione, and the others were not far behind. Daphne and Susan somehow managed to find and pair with each other, taking to the assignment with glee. Harry and Alan were effectively playing ping-pong with a spell, completely silently. Severus didn't remark upon it once, until partway through when Anthony cursed up a storm at Hermione for hexing him. Hermione wasn't at all sympathetic in return. Severus stalked over and addressed him quite firmly.

"Mr. Goldstein, if you cannot manage a simple shield spell you should not be taking it out on someone else."

Anthony muttered something with a frown, and Severus stalked back to the front of the room. "Perhaps we need a demonstration. Mr. Potter, if you would?"

Harry blinked, but easily strode to the front of the classroom, turning to face Severus without any concern. He was confident he could shield against him easily, and completely silently. Severus gave him no warning before he shot a hex at him silently. Equally silent, Harry cast a high-level shield and was grateful for it when the spell blasted into it with enough force to have collapsed the lesser shield most would have used. Harry didn't indicate the effort involved at all beyond a faint waver as he lost his balance. Severus smiled down at him and dismissed him to his seat, starting in on a further lecture on the subject, one Harry effectively ignored – he already understood the principles required.

Break was something Harry worked on his homework during, encouraging Ron in his efforts and putting his own thoughts together. Ron was left heading for the library while the rest of them – most of those present for Defence class, certainly – went to find the way to Arithmancy.

Harry's head was spinning faintly after that class, and he quickly finished a short lunch before retreating for the rest of the free time to attack his Arithmancy work with the help of Hermione and Neville. They found Ron there, who merely shook his head at their ideas, something Harry couldn't quite argue with. He was more confident about Snape's homework than he was about Arithmancy, and that was mildly frightening. He almost finished the work when it was time to leave for Care of Magical Creatures with Ron, who gladly followed him out of the school to Hagrid's hut – they were the only students to do so. Hagrid greeted them as though he'd expected no more, despite the presence of several gnarly creatures. Harry was mildly grateful Hagrid wasn't a demanding teacher – his head was still in the clouds from Arithmancy, and he was so tense he felt nigh unto snapping. Surprisingly, the lesson calmed him down with so few people present – otherwise defined as himself, Ron, and Hagrid - as the animals were friendly and caused no problems.

He felt only mildly ashamed he couldn't remember what they were when he re-entered the castle, blissfully free of homework. Ron was ecstatic about it, remaining cheerful all the way down to the dungeons, where they rejoined the rest of their friends at the door to the classroom. Harry had to fight down a chill of foreboding – a dark stone room underground was very likely this was to spur a reaction from him, and no amount of cautious looks and reassurances from his friends inspired any confidence. He only hoped Green's presence would offset the challenge…

The door was pushed quickly open and Green waved them all in, looking mildly disgruntled about something. Harry waited until last and felt a small smile twitch onto his face – apparently Slughorn was additionally attending this lesson, which was probably why Green was so put out.

Inside, the room had been rearranged completely. Instead of several long tables, there were fourteen desks exactly, arranged around the walls in a horseshoe shape. Alan happily took the desk directly across from the teacher's. Harry grinned as Blaise chose the desk directly to his right; Harry took the one to Alan's left, which effectively led the rest of their friends to gather around – Daphne was behind Alan, Theodore behind Blaise, and Ron behind Harry. It placed him right next to Hermione. Neville was to Harry's left and studiously ignoring Anthony when he took the last seat on that side, next to Hermione and behind Ernie Macmillan. Draco and the rest of the Ravenclaws were on the right side of the classroom, Draco sitting beside Theodore. The two were completely ignoring each other.

With everyone inside, Green pulled the door shut and nodded to Slughorn, who had waited at the front of the room as the students seated themselves. There were three tripods set up for the interest of the class. The one directly in front of Alan was shiny white, with steam rising in spirals and smelling of polished wood, a spring breeze and some strange kind of potpourri Harry couldn't identify. Alan was eyeing it with an odd little smile. In front of Neville was a mud-like dark sludge – across the room in front of Kevin was what looked like boiling water. Harry knew that one immediately – it was Veritaserum. Lily had made that several times both out of curiosity and for Dumbledore. Slughorn chuckled cheerily and quickly greeted them all. As he moved to do so, Green abruptly snapped,

"Get your stuff out. Scales, kits, and books. Do you all have everything you need?"

Harry had already gotten his stuff out, mimicking Alan and trusting him to know what Green would expect. Hermione quickly and efficiently caught up, and Anthony and Draco both looked a little pinched. Slughorn clucked his tongue.

"Now then, Master Quintelyuv –"

"Green. Call me Green. If you must, call me Professor Green. Master Quintelyuv makes me think Louis is somewhere around here and you don't need me twitchy."

Slughorn gave him a curious look. Harry stifled his laughter into soft snickers as he remembered the one time he'd met Green's necromancer brother. As far as he could tell, the two did not get along even if they helped each other out. Slughorn finally shrugged and turned back to addressing the class, leaving Green to look over the desk and glare at the small cauldron of leaping gold Harry couldn't begin to guess at.

"Well then, I'm sure you all understand that Professor Green will be typically teaching you but on occasion I feel I should drop in to see how you are doing – just as he is welcome to drop in to any of my classes." Green blinked and shook himself before going back to glancing over the papers. "Now then, attendance. Green, did you find it – Ah, thank you very much."

Green just smirked and turned back to the desk. Slughorn glanced down the paper and simply called roll. He glanced up and beamed at Harry, Neville, and Blaise and gave Alan a searching look. Once he finished, he smiled back at the class and grandly indicated the cauldron in front of Kevin. "I have prepared several potions for you to look over simply to see what they are like. These are all potions you ought to be able to prepare once you have passed your NEWTs. Can anyone tell me what this one is?"

Harry raised his hand just after Hermione and before Alan. Neville added his own after a moment. Slughorn smiled as he selected Hermione.

"Veritaserum." Hermione succinctly answered. "It's a colourless, odourless, potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth."

"Very good, very good!" Slughorn positively beamed. "Now," He turned to indicate the sludge in front of Neville, "this one here is fairly well known, and has been featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately. Can anyone…" Hermione's hand was already back in the air, as was Neville's. Harry was sure he knew it, but couldn't think of it at the moment. Alan simply looked amused. Slughorn once again called on Hermione, apparently quite interested in her vigour.

"Polyjuice Potion, sir."

"Excellent, excellent." Slughorn nodded happily, "Now this one here … yes, my dear?"

Hermione had returned her hand to the air when he'd merely looked at the other potion. Neville hadn't even bothered to raise his own, instead smiling bitterly as he traced his finger across the cover of his book. Hermione eagerly answered, glancing momentarily at Neville in front of her and then vindictively at Anthony beside her. "It's Amortentia."

"It is indeed." Slughorn agreed. "It seems almost foolish to ask, but I assume you know what it does?"

"It's the most powerful love potion in the world." Hermione quickly answered. "It's got the distinct mother-of-pearl sheen, and the steam is rising in spirals. It's supposed to smell different for everyone." She pinked slightly.

Slughorn looked absolutely enthralled. "May I get your name again, my dear?"

"Hermione Granger, sir."

"Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"

"No, I don't think so sir. I'm muggle-born, you see."

"And she's like that for all her classes." Neville muttered loud enough to hear. It wasn't quiet enough to disguise his admiring tone – and it certainly didn't hide it from Anthony, who flushed slightly in offence.

Slughorn immediately beamed. "Oho, is she a friend of yours, Neville? And, you as well, Harry? You mother was a muggle-born with quite the same talent! Positively astonishing skills." Hermione quickly blushed, even as Harry shrugged awkwardly. "Well Ms. Granger, take twenty well-earned points to Gryffindor."

Draco made a faint disgusted sound, but Slughorn just continued over him.

"Amortentia doesn't create love of course. It is impossible to create, manufacture, or imitate love, but it does engender a most powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous or powerful potion in this room – oh yes," Slughorn shook his finger at Draco and Theodore, both of whom were looking sceptical. "When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love … now, it is time for us to start work."

"Sir, you haven't mentioned the potion on your desk." Alan pointed out cautiously. Harry glanced back over at it to find Green was still glaring irritably at the happily splashing potion. Slughorn was grinning.

"Oho. Yes, that. Well, that one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis." Harry stared, startled, and heard Alan give a sharp gasp. It was echoed on his other side – he could only assume Neville and Hermione knew it as well. "I take it, several of you know what this little potion does? Miss Granger?" He asked.

"It's liquid luck! It makes you lucky!"

The whole class straightened to attention.

"Quite right, take another ten points to Gryffindor. Yes, it's a funny little potion, Felix Felicis. Desperately tricky to make," Green grunted affirmatively, still staring at it as though it would tell him it's secrets if he could just glare it into submission, "and disastrous to get wrong." Harry suspected Green knew that well. "However if brewed correctly, as this has been, you will find that all your endeavours tend to succeed … at least until the potion wears off."

"Why don't people drink it all the time, sir?" Terry eagerly asked.

Green answered sharply, "Because it's toxic in large quantities, expensive and difficult as Hell, and leads to dangerous recklessness and overconfidence." He made a disgusted sound. "You will be telling me how you managed this, Horace."

"Certainly." Slughorn happily agreed. Apparently Green's surliness had no effect on him. "Yes, Felix is quite dangerous if taken too often. It is a potion to be used sparingly, with utmost care…"

"Have you taken it, sir?" Alan asked, curious.

"Twice in my life." Slughorn answered, "Once when I was twenty-four, once when I was fifty-seven. Two tablespoons with breakfast. Two perfect days." Slughorn stared dreamily into space for several minutes and then came back down with a grin. "And that, is what I will be offering as a prize this lesson."

Green grunted indignantly and frowned at the papers he was looking over, but Harry, along with everyone else was dead silent. What would he do with that? Harry honestly couldn't imagine, although it was very likely quite effective.

"One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis." Slughorn continued, taking a small corked glass phial from his pocket, showing it to them all. "Enough for twelve hours luck. From dawn to dusk, you will be lucky in all that you attempt.

"Now, I must warn you, Felix Felicis is banned in all organized competitions … sporting events, for instance, examinations, and elections. So the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only … and watch how that ordinary day becomes extraordinary!"

"So." Slughorn briskly pocketed the phial again and smiled out across them all. "How are you to win this fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page ten of Advanced Potion-making. We have little over an hour left, which should be more than enough time for you to make a decent effort at Draught of Living Death. It is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. However, the person who does the best will win little Felix here. Off you go."

The room fell into a fervent silence. Around him, everyone pulled their cauldrons closer, moved weights onto their scales and began work. Harry felt the thrum of energy rising above them in the classroom but none of it really affected him. He was interested, certainly, but … unless he kept that on him close enough to bring into play during a fight for his life, he couldn't imagine a use for it. He could have used it over the summer, certainly, but that was the past. Maybe, if he won it, he could give it to Nanna, to keep her and his mother safe…

Malfoy was flipping pages and sorting ingredients fervently, desperately. He was clearly eager to win the prize, and so, apparently were Neville and Theodore. Alan didn't look half as interested, but upon seeing Draco's interest, he bent quickly over his work. Harry shrugged and did the same. Several minutes later, while he was carefully cutting his valerian roots, Harry saw something faint drop onto his desk. Harry quickly glanced it over and unrolled it, breaking the disillusionment. It was a list of alternate instructions, three copies of it. Harry glanced up at Alan, but he was ignoring Harry in order to work on his own potion. Harry shrugged, kept one page and, ignoring his own work for the moment, slid Hermione's copy onto her desk under her book cover. She noticed it and frowned at Harry before turning back to her work and ignoring it. Harry waited several minutes, and repeated it with Neville, who was far more interested in the paper than Hermione had been. Harry shrugged and surreptitiously copied the page once more, crumpling it and dropping it to the ground, kicking it carefully back to Ron and then glancing at him and then down. Ron quickly found the page and picked it up, looking the instructions over and groaning, quickly making note of them. Harry just smiled, referencing the paper as he moved on.

He didn't get far before Alan abruptly swore; Green surged out of his seat, a spell off before he'd even straightened. Alan fell out of his chair, and Harry moved towards him before Green barked, "Leave him to me!" and he backed off. Alan's potion was vanished and as things calmed down Harry finally could see what had happened. Alan's cauldron was overturned, the flames beneath out, the potion gone. The only potion on him, however, was on his hands, which Green quickly looked over and pulled a phial out of a pocket on his robes. He hauled Alan to his feet, pulled his hands back over his desk and simply poured the concoction over them. It splashed on the counter, but didn't leave the confines – it stopped against a barrier around the edge of the table.

"Get back to your potions." Green snapped. "We don't need them exploding from neglect – the mess is in hand." Green lowered his voice, but not enough to keep Harry from hearing. "What in the bloody blue blazes happened Alan? And you're not wearing your fucking gloves!"

"My cauldron just dumped itself over." Alan snapped, keeping his own voice down. "I know I didn't spill it; you know me better than that. God, that stings. Why would I need gloves for something I know perfectly?"

"Is it feeling better than the burn?" Green asked absently, flicking an annoyed glance at Alan. The phial must have had some sort of expansion – potion was still pouring out, less rampantly than before but still coming. Green would occasionally make the poured potion vanish before it overwhelmed the spell. "Harry, get back to your potion. You've already compromised it. Alan, go up to Madam Pomfrey now. Keep your hands off anything. If you're so distracted, Harry, go with him to open the doors. I'm sure you can hex any stragglers who get too close to you right now; it's in the middle of class. So long as Horace doesn't mind."

Slughorn shook his head. "Certainly not, Green. By all means boys, go up to Pomfrey. If nobody else is having any problems, we'll continue the lesson. The prize will be delayed; however, there will be points awarded for the best potion. Keep up the good work."

"Neville?" Harry called. Neville nodded quickly.

"Yeah, I'll get your stuff. Blaise has Alan's – get a move on, already."

Harry smiled. Neville hadn't even looked up from his potion once he'd established that Green had the problem in hand and it wasn't spreading. Harry opened the door and moved into a brisk walk up the hallway, Alan following behind him, glaring at his hands.

"You alright?" Harry asked.

"I just got boiling potion dumped all over my hands." Alan drawled. "What do you think?"

"You don't spill your cauldron." Harry scoffed. "Who did it?"

"Not a clue. Not a damn clue. We need to move. The longer we wait, the harder this will be to heal and the more the pain will return."

Harry nodded and jogged slightly as they moved up the winding stairs to find Madam Pomfrey. "What was that – that Green used on your hands?" Harry panted out.

"Just a basic cooling draught." Alan answered, swearing momentarily as he panted and swayed – without the use of his hands, he had less balance and was clearly frustrated by it. "It's non-reactive to most potions. Nothing in the Draught of Living Death would react to it. It helps to dilute it as well, whatever's on here, so it won't have as much effect."

"Why would it have an effect?" Harry asked carefully, opening another door to make the trip shorter by use of a secret passage.

"It's effectively in my bloodstream, or absorbed through the damaged skin." Alan frowned. "Otherwise I'd have fainted and probably been extremely hard to wake, or something worse because the potion's only half finished."

"Oh." Harry frowned and walked beside Alan to the doors of Pomfrey's realm "Is that well-known?"

"To most who know potions, it's known quite well." Alan growled out.

Harry opened the door and Pomfrey descended upon Alan immediately. Harry frowned as he waited aside – if that had been known, somebody wanted Alan hurt and hurt badly. If Green hadn't had the tables warded, the potion would have gone straight down Alan's chest and legs – massive burns, and a large chance of the potion taking effect, putting him in a coma. That was dangerous. And it had been purposeful too. Worse, would they try again?

A/N: Guess what? They're at Hogwarts. School's started. Isn't rivalry fun? And Guess what? Well, I suppose you'll just have to see, won't you, although I do not believe it will be hard...
Next chapter, Quidditch tryouts! Problems, solutions, resolutions, a bit of of extraneous information, and... well. You'll see. See you Thursday!

Fire & Napalm