The next morning, Chris woke up when his pillow vibrated. He sat up, yawned and tapped the rune on the bedpost, causing the curtains to become cloth again and opened the curtains. He grabbed his glasses, and was about to step out of his bed when he felt a buzzing coming from the floor. He looked down, and noticed that the carpet seemed a little compressed around his bed. Checking the others weren't awake (Nott and Zabini were already gone, Crabbe and Goyle were snoring and Draco appeared to be in the bathroom) Chris summoned a bit of the Purple to his hand and lightly touched the compressed area of the carpet.
There was a crackle as whatever enchantment was put around his bed fizzled out of existence. Chris had learned soon after he was allowed to leave the hospital that the energy he had in his body, which he dubbed the Purple due to the colour, had a disabling effect on magic, despite the fact that it was protecting his body from exploding. He found this out after he touched a moving portrait and with a fizzle and crack it stopped moving. After about ten minutes the painting started moving again, and he was given an earful by the painted old lady.
Chris went about his morning routine, greeting Draco sleepily in the bathroom where the blonde was brushing his teeth. The bathroom was designed with five cubicles, five sinks and another room with shower stalls. While brushing his teeth, Chris learned about the basic school schedule, and asked about what his electives were. Chris replied that he had chosen Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. When asked why he was doing three electives, Chris replied that he had asked to drop History. He then left the dumbstruck blonde boy who didn't know he could do that.
The blue and purple eyed boy was joined by Draco and his cronies, and they accompanied him to breakfast, where they sat as far away as possible from Nott. Chris explained that someone had tried to curse the area around his bed, but had obviously done a meagre job of it. Indicated by the shocked look on Nott's face, he had obviously set the trap and it was probably quite a dangerous one.
While they ate, Professor Snape came around with their timetables, which Chris accepted with a nod of thanks. While spooning cereal into his mouth, Chris unfolded his timetable and looked at what he had for the day.
"Huh, Arithmancy, double Potions, Ancient Runes and Defence against the Dark Arts. What've you got Draco?" asked Chris, folding his timetable back up and placing it in his robes pocket.
"History of Magic, double Potions, Ancient Runes and Defence against the Dark Arts. Crabbe and Goyle have the same classes." Draco said, glancing at his timetable and dishing some bacon onto his plate.
"Are they smart enough for Ancient Runes?"
"They can understand the basic practical side, but anything theory goes over their heads. I mostly just let them copy my work" Draco shrugged.
"Fair enough," Chris said, waiting for Draco to sip from his goblet, "Hey, check this out" he said, pulling his fake wand out and discreetly pointing it at Snape and Umbridge. He gathered his magic into the air in front of his wand, and whispered the switching spell, concentrating on the teachers outfits. With a flash of mauve light, Umbridge was suddenly wearing the strict Head of Slytherin's black robes, and Snape was now dressed in pink with a cardigan and a pink bow in his hair. Everyone laughed loudly, including Draco though he tried to hide it. Gryffindor table laughed the loudest, and Snape's face went white in anger as he stood and pretty much screamed "WEASLEYS!"
Chris felt a little bad as the red-headed twins jumped up and ran out of hall in terror, followed closely by an infuriated Snape in a skirt and high heels. The laughter of the crowd and shriek of Umbridge's fury as she joined in the chase, tripping over the taller man's black robes and wrinkling her nose at the smell of B.O and potion residue assaulted her nose, echoed in the hall. Chris glanced up at Albus, and noticed with a smirk the man was smiling amusedly with that godforsaken twinkle in his eye.
"Chris," said Draco, drawing Chris' attention. The blonde was trying to look at him with a stern expression, but his lips were quirking slightly at the end and his eyes were full of mirth.
"Draco, I have no idea what you are talking about" Chris said with a straight face, looking directly at the blonde. Draco snorted, and shook his head.
Arithmancy was similar to Maths, in that it used numbers and equations to easily understand how magic works. Unlike mundane Mathematics, Chris found it quite interesting and worked hard on it. During the last few weeks, he had been brought up to speed by Professor Vector, as he was missing two years of learning.
After the class, Chris went out to the courtyard with Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. He didn't mind Draco's company, but the two large boys felt more like bodyguards then friends, and that kind of made him feel uncomfortable. It was drizzling, and Chris tried to stay under the covered areas to avoid getting wet. Draco and his goons followed suit, and they found a dry spot to stand and chat until the bell rang for the next session.
"Downside to a school in Scotland. The bloody rain" Chris muttered, pulling his collar up to protect his neck from the wind.
"Yeah. Sometimes I wish father had sent me to Beauxbatons. It's quite warm in France, and we could easily afford it" Draco drawled, leaning against the stone wall and looking across the courtyard.
"Beauxbatons is that French school for magic isn't it?" the reality traveller asked.
"Yeah, one of the Big Three in Europe. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and Durmstrang Institute." Draco explained. His eyes were locked on three figures sitting underneath a covering, and Chris looked over as well, curious what had captured his roommate's attention. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were sitting and conversing, until a fourth person, a Chinese girl he couldn't remember the name of, came over and started talking to Harry. Chris had to grab Draco's arm to stop him from walking over and starting something.
After a bit, the Chinese girl walked with in a huff, and the bell rung a few seconds later. Chris, Draco and his goons followed behind the Golden Trio, noticing with a smirk that the redhead and the bushy haired girl were arguing. Ron had obviously botched things up with Harry and the Chinese girl.
"Hey, is there a Chinese school of magic?" asked Chris suddenly, feeling a bit curious. Draco thought for a minute.
"Yeah, but it's in Japan. Mahoutokoro School of Magic, I think it is" The rich pureblood explained, just as they joined the queue at the Potions classroom, around the time that the door opened. Chris followed Draco to one of the tables on the left side of the classroom, sitting with Draco while Crabbe and Goyle took the table behind them.
"Settle down," said Snape coldly, shutting the door behind him.
There was no real need for the call to order; the moment the class had heard the door close, quiet had fallen and all fidgeting stopped. Snape's mere presence was usually enough to ensure a class's silence.
"Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an "Acceptable" in your OWL, or suffer my . . . displeasure."
His gaze lingered this time on Neville, who gulped. Chris noticed this and frowned slightly.
"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye."
His eyes seemed to rest on Harry, and his lip curled.
"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell," said Snape softly, "so, whether or not you are intending to attempt NEWT, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students.
"Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing. The ingredients and method –" Snape flicked his wand "- are on the blackboard –" (they appeared there) "- you will find everything you need –" he flicked his wand again "- in the store cupboard –" (the door of the said cupboard sprang open) "- you have an hour and a half . . . start."
Chris examined the chalkboard, and quickly went about collecting the ingredients needed for this potion. He'd done tutoring over the last few weeks with Snape, and the man had conceded that Chris had some basic skill in Potions, and was good enough at measuring and timing to be able to brew some intermediate potions. This would be the first time he attempted anything this fiddly. The ingredients had to be added to the cauldron in precisely the right order and quantities; the mixture had to be stirred exactly the right number of times, firstly in clockwise, then in anti-clockwise directions; the heat of the flames on which it was simmering had to be lowered to exactly the right level for a specific number of minutes before the final ingredient was added.
"A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion," called Snape, with ten minutes left to go.
Chris' potion looked okay, though the silver vapour looked a little on the dark side. Draco's was perfect, and there seemed to be vivid green smoke skulls rising from Crabbe and Goyle's cauldrons. Chris looked around to examine the rest of the classroom, mainly the Gryffindor side of the room. Harry's cauldron was issuing copious amounts of dark grey steam; Ron's was spitting green sparks. Seamus Finnegan was feverishly prodding the flames at the basis of his cauldron with the tip of his wand, as they seemed to be going out. The surface of Hermione's potion was a shimmering mist of silver vapour, and as Snape swept by he looked down his nose at it without comment, meaning he didn't have anything to comment on.
At Harry's cauldron, however, Snape stopped, and looked down at it with a horrible smirk on his face.
"Potter, what is this supposed to be?"
The other Slytherins at the front of the class all looked up eagerly; they loved hearing Snape taunt Harry.
"The Draught of Peace," said Harry tensely.
"Tell me, Potter," said Snape softly, "can you read?"
Draco laughed next to Chris.
"Yes, I can," said Harry.
"Read the first line of the instructions for me, Potter."
Harry squinted at the blackboard.
"'Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counter-clockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes then add two drops of syrup of hellebore'"
A look of comprehension was visible on Harry's face, and Chris felt a little sympathetic for the guy.
"Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?"
"No," said Harry quietly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"No," said Harry, more loudly. "I forgot the hellebore"
"I know you did, Potter, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. Evanesce."
The contents of Harry's potion vanished; he was left standing foolishly beside an empty cauldron.
"Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name and bring it up to my desk for testing," said Snape. "Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday."
Chris poured his potion into a flagon and labelled it clearly with his name, before bringing it to the front and handing it in to Snape. There was a bit of panic as when Goyle poured his into his flagon, the container shattered and his robes caught on fire. Chris noticed that Harry had left as soon as the bell went, and slipped off to catch up with the guy.
"Hey! Potter!" Chris yelled out, knowing that in Hogwarts people only called each other by their first name if they knew them. Harry turned around, and blinked when he saw the Slytherin running up to him.
"Can I help you?" asked Harry, looking quite guarded.
"Yeah, just wanted to make sure you were alright after that little spiel" Chris said, breathing hard from the sprint. The Gryffindor boy looked shocked at that.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you care? I'd figure you would have loved that little show" Harry snapped, frowning at him. Chris chuckled a little, shaking his head.
"I'm not like the other Slytherins. I'm a half-blood. Muggle mum. And seriously, the way Snape acted was kind of cruel. I'm Chris, by the way. Chris Johnson, I was sorted last night" Chris said, holding out his hand. Harry looked at his hand, before shaking it.
"Oh yeah, now I remember. The speech by Umbridge kind of put you out of my mind" Harry said.
"That's alright, I was bored out of my mind. I was getting ready to start a riot just so I didn't have to sit through it any longer." Chris said, grinning. Harry laughed at this, and they started walking to lunch. Harry invited Chris to come sit at the Gryffindor table to eat.
"Nah, better not. Don't want to get mauled by the lions," Chris said in a joking manner, "but maybe we can hang out sometime outside of class? The Gamekeeper Hagrid invited me to tea when he gets back from wherever he vanished from, you can come along"
"Do you know Hagrid?"
"Yeah, I came to the school a few weeks before term so I could meet the professors and get a feel of the place. Hagrid showed me the magical creatures they've got here and would often have me for tea" Chris said. They got to the Great Hall, and he looked up to notice that it was very wet and muggy. Rain fell down upon the tables, vanishing before they passed the floating candles, and droplets of rain hammered the windows lining the hall.
Chris felt that some people were approaching them, and decided to make his leave.
"Anyway, I gotta head off. The lions are descending. See you around Potter" Chris said, smiling at him and slipping off. As he left, he could hear Ron asking what the 'Slimy Slytherin' wanted. Chris shook his head, and sat down at his table.
After lunch, he had Ancient Runes, which was about the language of magic, and how by inscribing certain runes on a piece of paper or tablet or whatever, and feeding with magic, different things could happen. Basically, by combining different runes, you can do things that you can't do with a spell, though they weren't as portable as spells. Draco was in the class, but he was sitting away from Chris this class.
At the end of the class, he was given homework to write a Runic Dictionary and come up with five uses for three runes highlighted. Chris complained good-naturedly with Draco, despite not finding anything wrong with the course work give, and headed to their next class, which was Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors and that Umbridge woman.
When they entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teachers desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head. Chris was again reminded forcibly of a large fly perched unwisely on top of an even larger toad.
The class was quiet as it entered the room; Professor Umbridge was, as yet, an unknown entity and nobody knew how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be.
"Well, good afternoon!" she said, when finally the whole class had sat down.
A few people mumbled 'good afternoon' in reply.
"Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge". One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanted back at her.
"There, now," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."
Chris hadn't even taken his wand out, not finding any use in doing so. It was fake anyway. He got his notebook and pen out, ignoring the odd and scathing looks from the Slytherins. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:
Defence Against the Dark Arts
A Return to Basic Principles
"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year.
"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please.'
She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by the 'Course Aims'.
Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.
Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.
Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.
For a couple of minutes the room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment. When everyone had copied down Professor Umbridge's three course aims she asked, "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"
There was a dull murmur of assent throughout the class.
"I think we'll try that again," said Professor Umbridge. "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, "Yes, Professor Umbridge", or "No, Professor Umbridge". So: has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"
"Yes, Professor Umbridge," rang through the room.
"Good," said Professor Umbridge. "I should like you to turn to page five and read "Chapter One, Basics for Beginners". There will be no need to talk."
Professor Umbridge left the blackboard and settled herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all closely with those pouchy toad's eyes. Chris turned to page five of his copy of Defensive Magical Theory and started to read.
It was desperately dull, quite as bad as listening to Professor Binns. He felt his concentration sliding away from him; he had soon read the same line half a dozen times without taking in more than the first few words. Several silent minutes passed. Next to him, Blaise Zabini was absent-mindedly turning his quill over and over in his fingers, staring at the same spot on the page. Chris looked across the room and received a surprise to shake him out of his torpor. Hermione had not even opened her copy of Defensive Magical Theory. She was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air. He knew, from random flashes of memory, that Hermione never left a book unopened. And the fact she had disobeyed a teacher was extremely odd.
After several more minutes had passed, however, Chris was not the only one watching Hermione. The chapter they had been instructed to read was so tedious that more and more people were choosing to watch Hermione's mute attempt to catch Professor Umbridge's eye rather than struggle on with 'Basics for Beginners'.
When more than half the class were staring at Hermione rather than at their books, Professor Umbridge seemed to decide that she could ignore the situation no longer.
"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked Hermione, as though she had only just noticed her.
"Not about the chapter, no," said Hermione.
"Well, we're reading just now," said Professor Umbridge, showing her small pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."
"I've got a query about your course aims," said Hermione.
Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows.
"And your name is?"
"Hermione Granger," said Hermione
"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully" said Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.
"Well, I don't," said Hermione bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."
There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard.
"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"
Chris felt a tingle and quick as a flash flicked a silencing spell at Ron under the table. The boy opened his mouth and yelled something, but no noise came out and it went unnoticed.
'Huh? Um, why did I do that? Did I know that Ron was gonna say something? I feel like if I don't ask a question, the wrong person will and shit will hit the fan. I'm either a Seer, or I'm getting flashes of events as they happen in the book...'
Putting aside the confusing events, Chris raised his hand politely, and Professor Umbridge looked at him with a sweet smile.
"Yes? Mr..."
"Johnson, ma'am, Chris Johnson. While it's true that we won't be attacked in the classroom, wouldn't it be prudent to practise defensive spells in the likelihood of any attacks outside of school? As we all know, underage magic is allowed in self defence against another magic being or person" Chris said, keeping his tone respectful and looking the toad-woman in the eye.
"Why yes, that is correct Mr. Johnson, and chances to use defensive magic will arise in the future, but for the time being we will be focusing on theory," said Professor Umbridge in a sweet voice, "however, I cannot think of any situation that would call for defensive magic outside of school"
"Well, the world outside is not a safe one, ma'am. For example, muggers and thieves are likely to attack a student in locations like Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade or even the back alleys of the Muggle World. And I heard that there was a Dark Lord running around a few years ago." Chris said.
"You-Know-Who is dead, young man. You're in no danger of him"
"Yes, but what about his followers? The Ministry couldn't have gotten all of them, and there is always risk of un-marked supporters of You-Know-Who continuing You-Know-Who's work."
"Enough, young man. None of you are in any danger of You-Know-Who or his followers. He was killed, and his supporters arrested by the DMLE. Now, we will focus on class!" Umbridge snapped, her sweet voice suddenly gone and now hard as concrete. Chris blinked and leaned back in shock, and he wasn't the only one. No one else wanted to tempt Umbridge, and Chris figured himself lucky he wasn't given detention.
The class quickly fell back into the stupor, and Chris failed to notice the speculative look that Hermione was giving him, and the sight of Ron desperately trying to speak while Silenced. Chris would remember to remove it… in a few hours.