Chapter Eighteen: I Brake for DADA Class
Last chapter . . .
Of course, once Harry actually walked into the Great Hall, he forgot about that worry entirely. Five steps in and everyone was turning, pointing and calling out to him. The sling went psychedelic, apparently responding to all the noise—just what Harry wanted. Eight steps in and his eyes were drawn to the Ravenclaw table, where Cho Chang was standing up, looking in his direction. Damn. He was mentally kicking himself for promising to speak this morning when a strained cry caught his attention.
"HARRY!"
Neville's voice. Immediately, the hair on the back of Harry's neck stood up and he dropped Ginny's hand, knocked Hermione into Ron, ejected his wand and whipped it around.
"Protego!" The shield was fully formed and the Bludgeoning Curse merely knocked him back a few feet. There was an explosion of voices, and a scream as Harry leveled his wand at Draco. Ron's wand was aimed a second later.
The screams died down to a gasp.
"Welcome back, Potter," the blond sneered.
"Thanks," Harry spat out, just before letting loose two almost simultaneous spells. While Draco blocked the Disarming Spell, the Bludgeoning Curse hit him on one shoulder, spinning him around and lifting him off his feet. Harry noted with satisfaction that not one of his cronies cast a Cushioning Charm for him.
It was as if the whole assembly had been spring-loaded—that was how quickly the Great Hall exploded into motion—students yelling, curses flying, vengeance written on their faces. Harry saw instantly that Hogwarts had changed while he had been out. These students wanted to hurt each other.
Professor Snape whipped up his wand with a shout of, "Appono Tutelis!" and the entire Slytherin table glowed blue. The spells that had been spun from the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables bounced off, sent spinning of all directions. Already on their feet, the Slytherins were retaliating when protection spells went up at the other tables—just in time to prevent bloodshed.
The four tables now glowed, each one a different color, each one protecting and separating its students from the other houses.
"That's new," Harry murmured, keeping his wand outstretched, nonetheless. The protection spell did not extend to the students who were not at the tables, meaning that Draco was still fair game. He was picking himself up and dusting himself rather painfully. Good.
After a moment, Crabbe detached himself from the spell and lumbered over to help. It was the first time Harry had seen a Slytherin help Draco since school had begun and he almost laughed when the prat sneered at the help. Crabbe accepted the rebuff with his usual stoicism. It was strange to see him without Goyle. In all six years, Harry couldn't remember ever seeing them apart. There was no telling where Goyle was now. The Aurors had come last night for Narcissa; they would have questioned Goyle as well. Harry couldn't imagine Dumbledore letting a Sixth Year go to Azkaban, but this was surely more serious than a detention or suspension would convey. At least he hoped so.
As if he had heard Harry's thoughts, Crabbe turned his clay-colored face toward Harry and stared. There was no overt malice in his slitted, pig-like eyes, but Harry knew the intent of his gaze nonetheless. This was one of the Seven Deadly Slytherins, and this was Harry's warning. Harry locked gazes with the bigger boy and narrowed his eyes.
Bring it on.
Of course, by this time, Snape was snarling and taking off fifty House points from Gryffindor for Harry's retaliation. "For your reckless endangering of other students—"
The nearly hysteric brogue of Professor McGonagall topped him easily. "And sixty-five points from Slytherin for Draco, who started that entire display with overt malice towards another student—and an injured student at that!"
"Yes, thank you, Severus, Minerva. I think this may call for more than points taken away." The Headmaster walked toward the center of the room, his face stern. There was power emanating from him that caused the entire room to go still. "Draco, you were aware of the consequences of continued dueling in the Great Hall."
"Yes, sir," Draco said, still managing to summon a lower-grade smirk.
"Mr. Potter, however, had not been warned," Professor McGonagall pointed out quickly.
"Yes, Minerva, perhaps a warning here will be sufficient for Harry. However, Draco, we will be suspending you from classes for the day and holding your wand until the faculty decides on your punishment."
"Yes," Ron hissed. Professor McGonagall looked positively smug as the Headmaster continued.
"As it so happens, we were already meeting for a State of the School convention, our second this month as we once again find ourselves in extraordinary circumstances. We will there discuss further disciplinary measures and if you are found in contempt of a direct order from your Head of House—"
Draco sent a look to Professor Snape that was laced with panic.
The Potions Master immediately stepped forward. "Forgive me, Headmaster, I believe the error was on my part," he said smoothly.
The Headmaster turned toward the Potions Master with surprise. "Yes, Severus. How is that?"
Professor Snape glared at Harry. "I would prefer to speak of this in private."
"Yeah, I'm sure he would," Ron growled in Harry's ear. "Probably promised to adopt Draco if the prat would do away with you."
After giving Professor Snape a long look, the Headmaster turned to speak with to Professor McGonagall.
"With a Bludgeoning Curse?" Hermione whispered to Ron.
"In front of the entire school?" Harry added. "He had to know I'd block that."
"You're assuming this is premeditated," Ginny pointed out. "Remember the chamber pot in the Infirmary? Draco's losing it." Harry frowned. Draco had thrown a chamber pot out of sheer rage at seeing Harry back in the Infirmary after he'd rescued Charlie. Why, Harry still didn't know. But looking back over at the prat now, he couldn't believe that argument this time.
"I don't think he's lost it. Looks to me like he's found something again."
Ginny looked over and stared at Draco standing in a circle of congratulatory Slytherins. "Of course," she breathed out. "Now—now, I'm going to kill him." She ground out the last words and headed toward the Slytherin table.
"Oy!" Ron grabbed at one of her arms, and Harry at the other.
"Not now, Gin," Harry whispered in her ear.
She stopped struggling. "He tried to hurt you just to make good with his housemates!"
"Yeah, he did, but I can handle it. It was a Bludgeoning Curse, not an Unforgiveable." She raised surprised brown eyes to his and Harry paused. "What?"
"It doesn't matter what it was—" she began, but was interrupted by the Headmaster, who had been speaking quietly with Professor McGonagall all this time.
"Yes, Severus, we will review the circumstances privately in my study. Harry, Draco, if you would be so kind as to attend the State of the School convening at six o'clock this evening. Now, as for rest of you who thought it wise to cast spells before breakfast was halfway completed, none of your spells connected and thus, you did not break the current school rules. But beginning tomorrow, there will be a zero tolerance policy for any hexes or curses cast inside the Great Hall. It will be known if you cast one, whatever type, and you will be punished accordingly. This area is to be a safe haven from school rivalries and politics. Also beginning tomorrow, there will be an added injunction against any student who takes action against Harry for his stand against Voldemort—" here he ignored the collective gasp from the students "—which will result in that student's immediate dismissal.
"As some of you are aware, Gregory Goyle has been detained for his involvement in a plot against Harry and his future has yet to be determined. But at the very least, he will no longer be attending classes at Hogwarts. Now, for those of you who have not gotten the message thus far, let me perfectly clear: Harry Potter is a student at Hogwarts and as such, he is under my protection."Dumbledore's smile grew no less warm, and yet his tone turned Harry's blood to ice. "He will not be harmed here and those who seek to do so will find me a formidable opponent." The power radiating from him was so strong now that many students stepped back, fear on their faces.
"In a final note, let me put to rest the rumors about Narcissa Malfoy running loose about the castle: she had been apprehended and has, I regret to say, chosen to take her own life rather than face up to the consequences of her action. Draco, you have our most heartfelt condolences." Harry's gaze shot over to Draco again, who had flushed pink, but returned his look coldly. "Hogwarts is now clear of all who are not students or faculty. This should make for a much more enjoyable and far safer year. Please continue on with your breakfast."
"There's your motive," Ron said in a low voice as they stared at the Slytherins welcoming Draco to their table. "They must have told him about his mother last night. He's pissed because you got his Mum killed."
"I don't know," Hermione put in from the other side of Ron. "They weren't exactly getting along lately."
"Yeah, but still—she's his mum, right?" Ginny said with a questioning look at Harry.
Ron agreed. "And he wasn't the most stable bloke in the world to begin with. I think he's more dangerous now. Not that you should worry, Harry," he concluded lamely. "We've got your back."
"Thanks." Harry was watching Cho Chang approach Dumbledore. She was gesturing to Harry. "Oh no," Harry groaned. "Not now."
But instead of inviting Harry to speak, the Headmaster seemed to caution Cho before sending her back to her seat. With a nod and a gesture, he indicated that Harry should take his seat. Then he helped Professor McGonagall up the stairs to the Teachers' Table.
Harry and his friends were welcomed to their table by vigorous applause, which he hoped was due to the fact that most of this group hadn't seen him yet this morning and he'd just fended off an attack. He sincerely hoped it wasn't going to happen every meal.
"Good moves, Harry!"
"Welcome back!"
A few boos from the Slytherin table caught Harry's ears, but he just smiled and took the seat saved for him, along with Ginny, Hermione and Ron. Seamus had saved a seat for Neville.
"It was a good shot, Harry!" Colin enthused from down the table, in a voice that warbled between soprano and alto now. "Damn that Draco." He'd taken to cursing to sound a bit older.
"Why did you push me out of the way?" Hermione said pointedly to Harry. "I can protect myself, you know."
"Yeah, by hiding behind Harry," Ron said with a grin as he piled sausages on to his plate. She scowled at him, but there was a smile lurking beneath. Then Ron, putting one sausage on her plate, ducked to whisper something about giants in her ear. Hermione turned toward him and tried not to laugh.
"Ow." The pain in Harry's hand finally claimed his attention as he tried to take a drink of milk while getting some bacon. When had it started hurting again?
"You used your bad hand to push me out of the way, you know," Hermione said conversationally. "You might want to re-think that part of your strategy for next time and let the girls fend for themselves."
Harry just smiled. He started to reach for the bacon again and found three pieces already on his plate. He looked sideways and found Ginny smiling at him. "Thanks," he mumbled.
A few minutes into breakfast, for no discernible reason whatsoever, Harry's sling decided to change venues. Every time someone called out his name, the sling advertised unusual sayings like: Dementors Suck!, I Brake for Quidditch and Honk if you love curse scars! The twins, down at the other end of the table, waved at Harry and seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely. They needed to be taken down a notch—that was for sure. Harry took a moment to add that to his old To-Do List and was surprised to see it so out-of-date. He'd been busy lately.
TO DO LIST:
Master Procclumency/Occlumency
Kiss a girl on purpose (a good kiss, too)
Kill Tom
Kill—well, put Lucius out of commission
Survive
First, Harry had significantly improved his use of Procclumency and Occlumency. In fact, given that moment in Professor Snape's class when he had broken Snape's shield and inserted his own memory in there, he rather thought he might have mastered both. And as for the second one, well, he'd taken care of that as well.
He slid another look beside him as she chatted amiably with the Gryffindors, one hand stealing under the table and popping up to nick a piece of toast from his plate. Harry smiled. He definitely needed to revise his list.
TO DO LIST:
Kiss Ginny more
2) Find out what the bloody hell Draco's up to
3) Dodge the Seven Deadly Slytherins
4) Prank the twins—and good
5) Put Lucius down—on way to killing Tom
Perfect. Thinking of a prank to play on the twins would be just the sort of thing to occupy his mind when kissing Ginny wasn't. Or surviving. But, for now, he really didn't mind everyone laughing at his sling. It was sort of funny, especially once Ron explained that the sayings were adapted from bumper-sticker slogans on Muggle cars. Harry had seen them before, of course, but it was funny to watch Ron try to explain what point there was in sticking absurd sayings on the boot of an automobile.
Finally, Seamus summed it up nicely. "It's a Muggle thing, that is; don't expect to understand it."
"Yeah, unless you're my Dad," Ron gestured with a piece of bacon. "He has a whole box full of that kind of stuff—gives Mum fits—and it's all having to do with automobiles—keys, bumper stickers, fuzzy dice and air fresheners. The twins got him one of those bobbling hula girls for his last birthday—I think they said that the Muggles stick it on their dash. He loved it."
"So did Bill," Ginny said with a wicked smile. "I think I remember him wondering what Fleur would look like in a bikini and a grass skirt."
Harry choked on his pumpkin juice at the sudden mental image, but his fit paled in comparison to Ron's, who seemed to have swallowed an entire sausage down the wrong way. Hermione added to the noise by pounding on his back, saying, "Honestly!" and "Really, Ron," over and over again.
Harry was still smiling when he looked up to see Tobias Wafting staring at him from down the table with lonely, troubled eyes. Sudden concern for the boy hit him hard. What was it someone had said about Blaise threatening Tobias?
"Be right back," he told his friends.
Ginny grabbed his hand. "Where are you going?"
"I've got to talk to Tobias before class," Harry told Ginny.
"Not without me, mate," Ron said, standing and coughing once more into his napkin. Then he grabbed another sausage for the road.
"Better hurry," Ginny pointed past Harry's shoulder. Harry turned to see that Tobias was already walking out of the Great Hall, giving the Slytherin table a wide berth.
"Later," he said, bending to give her a quick kiss. Several people squealed around the room, and he heard a few gasps as well. Harry ignored them and grabbed his bookbag.
"So—are you going to inhale this one," Hermione said, indicating the sausage in Ron's hand with a nod, "or eat it?"
Ron flushed uncomfortably. "Well, I dunno. You never know what I might do with my food. I was actually thinking of sticking it up my ar—"
His snarl was drowned out by a general shout of laughter as Harry dragged Ron from the table.
"Oh, give it up, Hermione," Harry heard Dean say loudly, "He's a barbarian."
"Stop bloody pretending his table manners don't turn you on," Seamus called even louder. The whole table was roaring with laughter, but Harry was sure Hermione hadn't joined in.
Tobias was already out the door and Harry followed as quickly as possible, but was forced to pull up short as Luna appeared in front of him. Ron knocked into Harry's back. "Sorry, mate," he muttered, his mouth still full of food.
"Hello, Harry," Luna said in a dreamy voice. "I've been wanting to talk to you."
"About what?"
"Were you just kissing Ginny?"
"Uh . . . yeah."
"Oh, I thought you were." Luna smiled, fiddling with the wand tucked back behind her ear. Harry waited a moment for her to continue, but she just smiled at him vacantly. "That's nice."
"Yeah. Is that all you wanted to ask?"
"Oh, no. I had a dream about you."
Harry waited a little less time before prodding her this time. "What kind of dream?"
"It was a field of dandelions on a hill, on a beautiful day. Well, except for the crows. They sort of ruined it."
Ron snickered behind him, but Harry just ploughed on. "What were the crows doing?"
"Well, you see, all the dandelions were gone except one—that was you—because the crows kept eating them. It was more like a field of crows, really, all pecking and tearing at the flowers and the grass. That's why there was only one bright yellow flower left, alone in that dark, terrible field." Her large eyes grew rounder. "It was so sad that I almost couldn't keep on top of the budgie."
"Budgie?" Harry repeated, a bit despairingly. It all sounded like complete nonsense to him.
"Yes, I was riding a budgie sidesaddle, like I always do in my dreams, in this long, velvet skirt like my mum used to wear under her dress robes. And I kept trying to scare the crows away from the dandelion—you, as I said—but there too many of them and they just kept coming and coming. It was so loud and so awful and I couldn't stop them from tearing away at you." Unbidden, the image grew in Harry's mind—the shifting, jabbering crows, wings beating the air, and one small bit of yellow drowning in a field of black. "Just as I got there, a crow was tearing away your petals and scattering your leaves. And you were bleeding—the poor dandelion was bleeding. And that's when I woke up," she said solemnly, her gaze heavy with unspoken meaning that Harry wasn't sure he got. "I woke up crying," Luna finished.
Harry nodded, automatically sticking the dream in the same place with all the Trelawney predictions—and flushing. "I'm sorry. Look, I've got to go."
"But what about the dandelion?" Luna looked vaguely unsettled, as though still lost in her dream.
"I'm sure it's tougher than it looks. Don't worry so much. Ron, you coming?" Harry gave his friend a pointed look, and Ron said goodbye to Luna without laughing too hard.
As Harry held the huge door for Ron, he glanced at the Teacher's Table. Dumbledore was watching him with a smile that seemed to approve of him in general and of what he was doing in specific. Snape, standing to the Headmaster's right and glaring at Harry, sniffed contemptuously and turned to Professor Flitwick to say something. Flitwick, who was also standing, but with much less effect, waved to Harry cheerily. Professor McGonagall looked ill-at-ease, as though she was in her chair only at the behest of Dumbledore, which could very well be the case. She was watching the Slytherin table carefully. Professor Haverlime, with whom Harry had yet to take a class, simply smiled and saluted him from under her blue turban. Hagrid waved his huge paw in the air, looking tired, but glad to see Harry back. Beside him, Firenze looked neither perturbed nor exactly comfortable in his strange, low-slung chair. He bowed his head to Harry slightly.
Harry bowed back, suddenly remembering the first time he'd met the Centaur who had saved his life. Hadn't there been a prophecy mentioned, even back then, that his destiny was to die in the fight against Voldemort?
"What is it, Harry," Ron asked from beside him.
At the time, it had seemed so unlikely; there had been so many wizards who were more powerful and more equipped to fight that battle. He hadn't understood why it should be him. But now, he knew differently. Before the next Sorting at Hogwarts, it would all be decided—for ill or good.
"Come on, Harry," Ron prodded, "Do you want to catch that First Year or not?"
Harry blinked and saw the Teacher's Table again.
"Yeah, let's go."
Ron and Harry spent several minutes trying to track down Tobias, finally finding him on the staircase leading up to Gryffindor Tower. He was walking quickly, thin shoulders hunched over under his robes, blond hair scruffed-up as usual. When Harry called to him, Tobias stopped and spun around, his face frozen in amazement.
"Yeah, Harry? You need me?" His face was sliding between admiration, fear and such a desperate sadness that Harry immediately knew he'd done the right thing to track the boy down.
Harry nodded. "I was concerned about you."
"About me?" Tobias' voice edged up toward impossibly high. He cleared his voice before continuing in a breathlessly. "Why would you be worried about me?"
"Did Blaise Zabini say something to you?"
Tobias' mouth fell open. "How'd you hear about that?" he whispered.
"Ron and the others brought me up to speed. What happened?"
Tobias just shook his head, obviously struggling with what to say. His eyes glistened suspiciously and then words came suddenly pouring out. "It wasn't just Zabini. He had Goyle and that other skinny Sixth Year—what's his name?"
"Nott?" Harry supplied tersely.
"Yeah, him. They stopped me out in the hallway when I was heading down to Potions and they were coming up." Tobias was losing his composure, the words coming out huskier and thicker as he talked. "I usually walk with Violet, but she was in the Hospital Wing after that big row at breakfast."
"Oh, right," Ron said in a subdued tone. "The one where four Slytherins ended up spitting out slugs? That was a good one."
Tobias swallowed and nodded. "It was that one. I managed to stay out of it somehow, but on the way to class, Zabini and those guys pulled me into an empty hallway and asked me if I was friends with Zimmy Twitchtie."
"What did you say?" Harry prompted.
"I said yes, because we are. We're sort of . . . maybe more than friends, you know." Tobias looked away and wiped a finger at his lips haphazardly. "They didn't like that." He paused, staring miserably at the ground.
"What did they do?" Harry asked quietly. Tobias didn't answer him and sudden fear unnerved him into raising his voice. "What did they DO?"
Tobias looked up in surprise, then lowered his head again. There was a moment of horrible silence before he finally admitted, "They beat the bloody hell out of me."
"WHAT?" Ron yelled. "Oh, they're dead—DEAD!"
Harry looked back and forth between Ron and Tobias, then grabbed the First Year by the arm. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"
Tobias was suddenly sobbing, wiping at his eyes desperately. "I didn't know what to do! Everyone was already in so much trouble!" He turned helplessly to Harry. "I didn't think Hogwarts was going to be like this! I thought this place would be different!" Then his misery melted into a mask of self-disgust and he jerked away, wiping at his nose. "I gotta' go get my books."
Ron got ahead of him, forcing Tobias to stop. "Slow down, Toby. Listen. We won't let them get away with that. I don't know how your other school was, but here, you have mates." Harry was surprised by how much Ron sounded like Charlie just then, but it warmed his heart.
"You're Muggleborn, right?" Harry asked Tobias quietly and the boy turned to look at him, brown eyes glistening with surprise.
"Yeah," Tobias admitted, wiping at his nose again. "You're halfblood, right?"
"Yeah, and I was kind of . . . small and scrawny—"
"—kind of—" Ron sputtered helpfully.
"Shut it, Ron," Harry paused. "Anyway, my cousin and his friends beat up on me all the time. Was your old school like that, too?"
Tobias hesitated, his gaze sliding away from Harry. "Yeah. And my dad didn't do anything about it. Wanted me to 'fight my own battles.' What rot." Ron and Harry exchanged fiery glances that said the Slytherins will pay for this one. Tobias looked from one to the other and gave his eyes a final wipe. "Look, I'm sorry I blubbered. I can handle this—really. Forget I said anything. I just don't know what to do about Zimmy. She's my friend and I feel bad for getting her in trouble with them. All she was trying to do was find out information about the Seven Deadly Slytherins for you."
Harry swore quietly. "Tell her to lie low. I don't need her help that badly. Or yours. You just . . ." Harry swore, more colorfully this time and clenched his left hand until it seared. "I'll handle Zabini. You two stay friends. Just don't go snooping around and asking for trouble."
Ron muttered, "I can't believe you just said that."
Harry paused and gave Ron a look. "Me, either."
Ron smiled briefly, then went on, "But let's think about this for a minute. Maybe he shouldn't be friends with this Twitchtie girl. Mum and Dad say their family is chock-full of Dark Wizards and—"
"Like Sirius' family, you mean?" Harry shot back.
"I'm just saying that she could be used to set you up, Harry, so we have to—"
"She could not!" Tobias protested. "She's my friend, Harry! She'd never do that!"
Ron leveled him with a look. "Yeah, well, in Harry's fourth year, a professor set him up; this summer, it was that bloody Draco bastard; and a few weeks ago, it was Neville—only it really wasn't, but anyway—so you'll have to excuse me if I don't believe the testimony of a Muggleborn First Year."
Tobias stared at Ron a moment, then sighed, his shoulders drooping. "So what do I do, then?"
Harry tried to give him an encouraging look. "Just be careful. Be her friend, but don't ask for information; don't act on anything she says and, for God's sake, start walking everywhere with other Gryffindors."
The boy's eyes brightened up. "Okay, I will." Then he hesitated. "So . . . I guess you don't want to hear the last thing Zimmy told me, then."
Harry and Ron stared at each other. "Should have brought Hermione with us, mate," Ron said in a low voice.
"Go ahead, Tobias," Harry said, though his stomach was already burning with dread.
"It's another one of those things that sound crazy. I don't know what to believe." Tobias looked at them each earnestly. "She told me that Goyle is dead and that the Slytherins are covering it up."
"That's impossible!" Hermione exclaimed, her hands frozen in the task of getting out her Defense Against the Dark Arts book. "How on earth could they hide a dead student? It's not as if Dumbledore wouldn't know. Besides, they've already explained why Goyle wasn't at breakfast—he's been expelled. There's no way that something like that could be covered up. At least his Head of House . . . ohhhhhhh." She fell silent.
Harry nodded, seeing that her mind had gone exactly where his had. Snape was the Head of House for Slytherin, and who in the hell knew where his loyalties lay? "If they give it out that Goyle is dead, there'll be an investigation and the school might get shut down. They don't want that."
She locked eyes with him. "Because they're not done with you yet, are they?" Worry settled deep into her eyes. "We've got to talk to Dumbledore about this."
"Now?" Ron asked, looking from Harry to Hermione.
"No. Look, I'm already going to see him at six and this is the first N.E.W.T.-level Defense Against the Dark Arts class I've been to," Harry argued back. "And besides, Dumbledore told me they had Goyle under lock and key for his own protection as well as mine. He's probably shut up somewhere, eating half a table at every meal and perfectly healthy. It's got to be a rumor started by someone who noticed him missing meals and wanted to cause more chaos."
"Or a wish started by someone who didn't see him at breakfast and wanted more Slytherins dead," Ron added morosely.
Harry smiled, but Hermione was lost in thought, her book and parchment set out on her desk, her eyes a million miles away. The N.E.W.T.-level Defense Against the Dark Arts class was an interesting mix of Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, almost all members of the D.A. No Slytherins at all. They seemed to be excited that Harry had made it to class, and the room was in a happy buzz, all except Hermione, who was ticking something off on her fingers and still looking dreamy. Ron poked at her with his wand. She ignored him.
"Good morning, class," said a cheery voice from behind them. Harry turned to see Professor Havelime entering, her robes billowing, her turquoise turban catching the light and shining brilliantly. As the professor passed his desk and smiled at him, he saw that her eyes were a bright blue that didn't match the rest of her faded, wrinkled face. They looked too lively to belong to an old person, reminding Harry vaguely of Professor Dumbledore.
"We are all here this morning, which is a rare treat this year. No one suspended for fighting, no one still in the Infirmary, and Mr. Potter finally back from his various activities. I am so pleased to be able to teach you, Harry." Here, the blue eyes fastened on him with such joyous intensity that Harry slid down in his seat a bit. "Yes, yes, I know you don't like being singled out, but really—to teach The-Boy-Who-Lived is such an honor." Harry tried to give her a smile, but it probably looked more like the pathetic puppy-dog face that Ginny hated. Please move on!
"Yes, yes, enough of that, I see," Professor Haverlime chimed happily and without warning, whipped around and dropped to one knee. She shot off a spell at Harry, who ducked. There was a squeak and a thud behind him, and Harry turned to see Neville on the floor, Stunned. Harry, who hadn't had time to conjure a shield, stared at the teacher in amazement and then at his fellow students, who all had their wands out and were steadily watching Professor Haverlime. They looked much less shocked than he was.
"Oh, nicely done, Harry," Professor Haverlime said as she climbed to her feet, moving much more easily than he would have thought an older woman could. "Ten points to Gryffindor. And would someone revive poor Neville? Yes, there you are. Sorry dear, I was aiming at Harry. Yes, maybe you'd better move an aisle over and clear the path behind him. Smart thinking." She tapped her wand to her forehead. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes, we were demonstrating how one must be ready at all times for attack. Shields are good, but only if have enough time—better to dive out of the way, as Harry did, than to be caught with your wand up and the shield half-formed." The students all murmured approval at this.
Then Professor Haverlime started to lecture on a topic Harry was very familiar with: Sensing. It was an ability he was slowly becoming comfortable with using, one that he had worked on over the summer at the Order headquarters. However, Professor Haverlime gave the definition a little spin from what he had heard before, calling it the Sixth Sense.
"Muggles, dear things, have used that term to refer to an ability to see into the future, but they have no idea what they're talking about. Oh no, not at all. There are five senses we use to give us information about our world: sight, touch, smell, sound and taste. From them we can do everything from carrying on conversations to playing Quidditch, using different combinations of each of them to get us through.
"But what about where magic is concerned? Can you always hear it? See it? Smell it? Ah," she smiled as the students' expressions changes. "Sometimes you can hear a spell being cast, but what if it's a wandless spell?" She waved her hand and a bright beach ball appeared, falling into her hands. "Now, that was magic." She tossed the ball into the air and with a wave, it vanished. Harry wasn't sure whether to be amused or impressed. Beach balls. He felt like he should be a First Year again.
"Now, if I had blindfolded you," Professor Haverlime walked over to her desk and picked up a black scarf, "and performed the same stunt, would you have been able to know that magic was being worked only yards away from you? If it had been a curse I had tossed your way instead of a beach ball, would you have been able to defend yourself?" Her smile slowly faded. "If this were any other year, I would be teaching you to defend yourself against beach balls or something similarly innocuous. But the Headmaster needs this class to be ready to defend itself from far worse."
Harry found himself examining the floor, agreeing with her and feeling again the weight of his own dark task. "Harry?" Professor Haverlime called his attention back. "I was told that you have been working on your Sensing. Is that correct?"
Harry nodded.
"Would you give us a demonstration?"
He blinked and started to protest, but the other students were already calling out in agreement, some encouraging him and some demanding he try it.
"It might be good training," Hermione added helpfully.
"Go on," Ron said with a grin, "show her where to put that bloody beach ball."
Harry smiled—no, grinned—and cut his eyes to where the Professor was waiting with a smile of her own. "All right. I'll do it."
The class erupted into cheers.
"Now, now, not so fast. I'll need some more volunteers to be Harry's sparring partners. What? You didn't think I was going to attack one of my own students, did you?" She made a disparaging noise. "Come on, you—Dean, Ronald—yes, you—Parvati, Justin . . . where's that lovely girl with the bobbed hair? Ah, yes—Hannah, dear. Take your places, in a circle around Harry, if you please. Ah, now, Harry don't look so concerned. We've had many duels in this class so far this year and we haven't lost anyone yet!"
Harry wasn't really nervous, but he did feel a bit exposed standing in the center of the dueling area. It was bigger than it had looked at first, nearly twice as long as it was wide, and the hardwood floor was as springy as a mattress. Falling wouldn't hurt her—not that he was worried. The other students were smiling at him, only Hannah and Parvati hadn't raised their wands yet.
"Professor Haverlime," Hannah raised one hand uncertainly.
"Yes, dear. Glasses off, please," the professor said as she got into place behind Harry and slipped the black, silky blindfold over his eyes. Harry awkwardly tucked his glasses away in the breast pocket of his robes. He could feel the Professor's warm presence behind him, and realized that she was almost exactly his height.
"What spells are we to use?"
"Oh, only the lightest ones, of course—Jellylegs Jinxes, Tickling Charms, perhaps a Stinging Hex if you're feeling bold. Just be sure to aim at Harry's good side, not the arm with the sling, please." The smell of a light perfume came from the Professor's robes as she swished by Harry. "And let me warn you, I have heard that Harry is very quick with a shield and you are likely to get hit by what you send if you aren't just as quick with a shield in return. So don't cast anything you wouldn't want to get hit with yourself. Fair enough?"
With his sight gone, Harry began to focus on his other senses, especially sound. He could hear the shifting of bodies in the room and quiet murmuring out where the other students were seated. Hannah was whispering to Parvati, asking what spell she should use. Ron was clearing his throat, and getting in his dueling stance. In the near silence that followed, Harry closed his eyes from behind the blindfold and bent his right wrist, releasing his wand into his hand. He fingered the well-worn grip, feeling the smooth wood with a practiced hand. A deep breath worked its way inside his chest, and with it came images, magical auras surrounding the people in the room.
Ahead was Professor Haverlime, in bright blue rings not unlike the turban she wore. To her left was Ron, emanating his own steady, red glow. Hannah, beside him, was sending shivery waves of violet into the air. Harry wished he knew what the colors meant, but it didn't matter at the moment.
"Now, everyone is not going to fire at Harry all at once." There were a few sighs of relief from the students and Harry smiled. "Goodness, no. I want a good duel here, with a few alliances, lots of spells and lots of action. Only Harry works alone, unless any of you others are prepared to try Sensing as well?" Harry waited, feeling the expectancy in the air. "No? Well, maybe down the road a bit. For now, let's just see how it works, shall we?"
Harry drew in a deep breath and let it out.
"Everone engage in three . . . two . . . one . . . and go." There was instant chaos. Shouts and spells were all around him. Harry felt an expulsion of magic go by on his left side, but stood his ground. Whoever it was—Dean? Justin?—had missed.
"Protego!" Ron shouted and Harry felt the spell richocet off to the left. Over his head one band of blue flew; while another another orange one shot by his knee. The spells were different colors? Harry crouched, ready to jump aside at any moment. Professor Haverlime hadn't said that he was to attack anyone . . . and the way the spells were going . . .
Hannah finally sent violet bolt far to his right which Parvati easily deflected into the crowd of students. Someone cried out in pain.
"Sorry!" Justin yelled.
More spells flew. Harry could see colors flashing by; saw Hannah get hit by a flash of red that sent her flying. He heard her land with an oomph just as Justin sent a Jellylegs Jinx at Parvati. She was too clumsy with her shield and down she went with a screech.
"Wait—wait—wait a minute," Professor Haverlime said loudly, walking over to the Dueling Area. "Harry, take off your blindfold." Harry did so, blinking owlishly in the sudden light. Professor Haverlime was standing before him, both hands on her hips. "Why didn't you move? There were curses going on all around you. Did you not Sense them?"
Harry thought a moment. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. But I didn't have to move—none of them were coming at me."
Professor Haverlime looked thunderstruck and turned to look at each of the other participating students in turn. "Were none of you shooting curses at Harry? You do realize that the entire purpose of the demonstration was to test Harry's Sensing abililites?" Harry looked around and saw them all nodding. Ron gave a shrug.
Professor Haverlime took a step onto the Dueling Area, her glare more evident up close. "Then why weren't you firing them at him?"
After a moment of silence, Dean spoke up. "Just didn't feel right." He shot Harry a small smile.
"And what about you," Haverlime shot at Ron.
"Sorry, professor, I can't," he admitted with a shrug. "I'm his bodyguard."
"Yeah. I guess I couldn't, either," Justin said after a short silence. "He's got his arm in a sling and all."
"And hasn't he already got enough people throwing hexes at him?" Hannah asked anxiously. "I mean, I'm on his side, not theirs. I want to help him, not hurt him."
Harry lowered his gaze to the floor and stowed away his wand. In the following silence, he adjusted his sling and surreptitiously risked a glance at the professor. She had one hand over her mouth and tears had filled her eyes. She waved them all back to their places with one hand.
When she finally did speak a few minutes later, it was to award fifty House Points each to Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw for showing school unity. And that was how Harry's first DADA lesson of his Sixth Year ended—with his classmates cheering and his professor in tears.