The following morning, Harry felt much better. He no longer felt sick when he stood, but he was a bit nervous about the day ahead. He went down to breakfast with his friends, and afterwards received his schedule. Fifth years got different schedules then before. They were allowed to drop one or two classes of their choice, excluding Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Charms. Instead of the classes they were dropping, they had free periods.
"I'm dropping History of Magic and Divination," Harry said and Ron agreed. "What are you dropping, Hermione?" He looked at her shocked face and said, "Oh, Hermione, you can't take everything!"
"Fine, then. I'm dropping . . . I suppose History of Magic." Hermione sighed. "It's a shame, though."
Ron and Harry rolled their eyes and then set off towards the greenhouses for Herbology. After their break, where the three of them whispered about Dumbledore becoming minister of magic, the news had leaked out in the morning, they trudged down to the dungeons for Potions. Snape had of course given them the hardest potion he could find that would be acceptable in this class level. It had to be stewed an exact number of times, and if you put in a pinch too much of a certain ingredient, it would blow up in your face. Hermione was the only one who managed to get this potion completed correctly. The only other person who managed not to have blown his potion up was Harry, and his potion was lime green instead of light purple.
"Snape is the worst," Harry said after class. "He gave me a zero and my wasn't half as bad as nearly everyone else's."
"Well, Snape has never been exactly fair, has he?" Ron Said through gritted teeth. He was covered in a hard blue plaster, the result of his potion. Hermione was giggling but she finally pulled out her wand to help Ron and his feeble attempts to get it off.
"Thanks a lot, Hermione. You are the best."
"No problem, Ron. Next time remember to add only one pinch of dragon's claw."
"Right."
While Hermione was helping Ron, Professor McGonagall was helping Dumbledore.
"Oh, Minerva. I don't know what to do. I am an old man and I can't travel back and forth to London. I need one job, but I need to help the wizarding community, too."
"I will help you Albus, if it's the last thing I do."
"Thank you, Minerva. I believe I have a plan to help us a bit.