Harriet Potter Year 2: The Dreams of Yesterday

"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."

~Albert Einstein

Harriet Potter, Hogwarts, September 2, 1992

When Harriet woke up, she was greeted by a bright, white, ceiling. For a moment, she felt incredibly confused and disoriented. Once she recognized where she was, though, she let out an annoyed groan, turning to bury her face back in her pillow.

Why was it that she always ended up in the hospital wing?

"Harriet?" asked a soft voice from next to the bed. "Are you awake, yet?"

Harriet decided that she must have been hearing things. There was no way that he would be at Hogwarts right now. Not right after the full moon. He would have been absolutely exhausted. Yet, when she cracked one eye blearily open, she saw Remus sitting expectantly next to the bed.

"Uncle Moony?" She croaked. Her voice came out dry and cracked, so her uncle offered her a large glass of water. She took several large gulps and, before she had had her fill, Remus was pulling the cup away from her, placing it on the beside table that sat next to them.

He smiled apologetically. "Sorry. If you drink too much, you'll get sick. You can have some more later. But for now, eat this. You'll feel better.

Remus handed her a bit of chocolate. She took it skeptically and took a small bite. Instantly she felt warmth spread to her fingers and toes. A heaviness she hadn't even noticed slowly lifted itself away. She let out a breath and took another bite and nodded. Then she asked, "What am I doing here?"

"Don't you remember?"

"I remember," Harriet paused, trying to recall what had happened. She took another bite of the chocolate. "I remember," she repeated, "Ron and I had just managed to land the car at Hogwarts-"

"By land," Remus said dryly, "I assume you mean crash."

Harriet could tell from the look in his eye that he wasn't too happy about that. She'd probably be earning some sort of lecture, later on. "Right. Well, we had our things and were making our way inside when I heard this…screaming. There was screaming, Uncle Remus! A man and a woman! They- they were dying. Are they alright? Did you find them?"

Harriet was beginning to get hysterical and was trying to sit up on the bed. Her uncle pushed her slowly back down onto the covers, hushing her gently. "Harriet, nobody was screaming."

"But I heard it!"

"I'm sure you did. But nobody was screaming."

"I don't understand."

"Harriet," Remus asked her cautiously, letting her have another sip of water. "What do you know about Dementors?"

"That they guard Azkaban," she answered promptly. Sirius hadn't told her much about his time in Azkaban, but, over time, she had managed to have him tell her bits and pieces, including the effects of the Dementors. "They make a person relive their worst memories."

Remus nodded slowly, waiting for her to catch on.

"That's the screaming that I heard," she realized. "But what are Dementors doing on Hogwarts? Dumbledore would never let them come near the school!"

"Dumbledore didn't have a choice. Fudge sent them in. He believed that after last year's events, it will be beneficial to the students of the school." Harriet had a hunch that Remus did not approve of his plan.

Harriet saw a huge loophole. "But how does putting Dementors outside the school help with threats from inside the school?"

"Fudge wanted to put some Dementors in the halls, but Dumbledore drew the line there. The dementors are to stay outside the school at all times."

Harriet nodded and looked again at her Uncle, who smiled at her from his position on the chair next to the bed. Harriet blinked. "Uncle Moony?"

"Yes?"

"What are you doing here?"

Remus looked confused. "What do you mean? I was waiting for you to wake up, so I could make sure you were alright."

"No, I understand that," she denied. "But you're the only one here. Not mum or dad or Uncle Padfoot. So why just you?"

Remus smiled at her. Harriet felt as though years had just melted off of his face. He looked younger and happier than Harriet had seen him in awhile. "Dumbledore gave me a job working as the new History of Magic professor."

"That's why you wouldn't say anything about where you were working!" Harriet exclaimed cheerfully, before dissolving into a fit of coughs as she irritated her still raw throat. Remus rubbed her back softly until she calmed down.

"I wanted to surprise you," he told her.

"Consider me surprised," she wheezed. She took a deep breath. "But what about your," she stopped trying to think of the right saying, "furry little problem?"

Remus burst out laughing. Seeing Harriet's confused look, he explained. "That's what you're father and Sirius used to call it. By seventh year, half the school thought that I had some sort of rabbit problem."

Harriet giggled.

"As for your question, Professor Binns will be returning once a month to take over for me."

Harriet could feel all of the blood draining from her face. Remus, seeing her reaction, laughed at her. "Harriet, you've survived Professor Binns's lectures for an entire year. You'll survive once every month."

"We'll see," she muttered. She was quiet for a minute. "So you're the only one here, then?"

Remus gave her a fond smile, knowing exactly what she was thinking. "Your parents were eager to come over, but I assured them that you were just fine, but that I would let them know if that changed. Rest assured, though, that they will be sending you a very strongly worded letter in the near future."

Harriet winced. "How much trouble am I in?"

Remus let out a breath. "That's up for your parents to decide. As for here at school, Dumbledore managed to get your punishment reduced to a mere detention. Although, if I remember correctly, Snape was vying for expulsion."

"What about McGonagall?"

"She was rather eager to take away points, but then decided that I should have the honor. My first punishment as a Hogwarts professor." Remus smirked and Harriet suddenly realized why he was a marauder.

"But," Harriet panicked, "when Ron and I crashed the car into the Whomping Willow, we did it before school started. You can't deduct points for something we did before the start of term, can you?"

Remus tried to look stern, but failed miserably. "Well, when you put it like that…"

Harriet squealed and launched herself at him. He received her with a warm hug. Remus always gave the best hugs. "Alright," he released her. "Madam Pomfrey informed me that you'd be free to go once you were awake. If you hurry, you might still make dessert-"

Remus had barely finished his sentence when Harriet shot out of the room.

Harriet Potter, Hogwarts-September 2, 1992

Harriet's morning was already off to a rough start. She woke up late (on the first day of class, no less!) and had to rush to make it to breakfast. When she got there, she shot an annoyed look at Hermione for not waking her up. Her friend ignored her, though. Obviously she was still a bit sore about their crash with the Whomping Willow. That story had spread like wildfire through the school and, admittedly, she and Ron were getting a fair amount of attention because of it.

For Harriet, though, it was a double edged sword. In addition to the praise she got for their fantastic entrance, Harriet got quite a few stares due to her encounter with the Dementor. Her reaction to its proximity had spread as rapidly as the first story and the Slytherin's were making full use of the new material.

Harriet was about to ask why Hermione was still mad (hadn't she been punished enough, after all?), when she noticed Ron's forlorn expression.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, not very tactfully, taking a seat and pulling a plate towards her.

Ron groaned. "Everything. I woke up this morning and Scabbers was missing!"

"I'm sure he'll turn up, Ron," Hermione soothed. Ron crossed his arms.

"And my Potions book is missing. I'm going to have to ask to borrow one! Snape is going to murder me. That is, if my parents don't kill me first for asking for a replacement. They're not too happy with me."

Harriet reached into her bag and pulled her Potions book. "Borrow mine. I'll take the heat from Snape."

Ron looked at her in awe. "You'd do that for me?"

Harriet laughed and pressed the book into his hands. "What's it matter? He hates me anyways. I'll to go class early and talk to him. Maybe that'll spare me some humiliation."

"But there won't be any witnesses," Ron fretted. Harriet rolled her eyes and asked if that was all that had been bothering him. Ron gestured to small pile of ripped paper next to him. It took Harriet a moment to place the red colored parchment, but when she did, she did her best to frown sympathetically.

"You're parents sent you a howler?" Harriet was finding it very difficult to keep her giggles in. Ron shot her a look of utter betrayal, but otherwise didn't say anything.

Hermione did, though. "I wouldn't laugh if I were you, Harriet. You've got one, too."

Harriet looked and, sure enough, Hedwig was waiting patiently for her on the rafters, a red envelope in her talons. Harriet ignored Ron's snickers and held her arm out for her owl. For a moment, Harriet was worried that Hedwig was still angry at her, but thankfully it looked like her familiar had decided to forgive her. She flew down and landed on Harriet's arm, dropping the letter on the table. Hedwig worked her way up to Harriet's shoulder, gave her an affectionate nip on the ear, and then left for the Owlery.

Harriet reached tentatively for the envelope. She held it for a minute, then strengthening her resolve with the knowledge that it would only get worse the longer she waited, she slowly slipped it open.

Her father's voice echoed through the great hall:

"HARRIET POTTER!

WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? TAKING A FLYING CAR TO HOGWARTS? YOUR MOTHER AND I WERE WORRIED SICK! HONESTLY! OF ALL THE HAIR-BRAINED-"

He stopped suddenly. Harriet frowned. Was it broken? Was that even possible? She turned to Hermione to ask, but her father started talking again.

"Oh good, your mother's left. Sorry about that, Prongslette, but she was rather upset with you. And, on one hand, I have to agree with her. I mean, honestly? A flying car? But my Marauder side wants me to tell you that-"

"That was the most incredible thing ever!"

"Yes, thank you, Padfoot. I was getting to that."

"Well, get there faster, Prongs! It was brilliant! I mean, why didn't we ever do that?"

"Mainly because we didn't have access to a flying car."

"True, true."

"Anyways, Prongslette, your godfather and I just wanted to congratulate you on keeping the Marauder name alive! And, even though I'm sure Moony-"

"Its Professor Moony now, Prongs."

"Right. Even though I'm sure Professor Moony gave you a stern talking to when you arrived on Hogwarts grounds, deep down-"

"Deep, deep, down."

"He's very proud. He just can't show it, since he's gone over to the dark side."

"Minnie was probably furious, though. Oh, I would have loved to see her face!"

"You know she always hated it when you called her Minnie. And you realize that this letter will be read in the Great Hall?"

"Oh. Well, Minnie always did look lovely when she was angry."

"A bit late for sucking up, Padfoot."

"I gathered that."

"Well, Uncle Padfoot has to go and hide now. So we'll be off. Remember: if your mother asks, I yelled at you for several minutes."

"Goodbye, Prongslette!"

"Have fun, Harriet!"

The letter finally disintegrated. Harriet risked a glance at the staff table. Professor McGonagall looked ready to kill, but all of the other teachers (save Snape, of course), looked equal parts amused and shocked.

"Did that just happen?" Harriet asked nobody in particular. Silence coated the Great Hall, confirming her answer. As if reacting to a signal, the entire Hall burst into excited chatter. Harriet sat stock still, until a bright flash snapped her out of her thoughts.

When she had blinked away spots, Harriet found herself staring at a young, hyperactive, boy, who introduced himself as Colin Creevey.

"I'm in Gryffindor, too!" He beamed. Harriet smiled politely as she, Ron and Hermione hurried to finish their breakfast before class started

"It's nice to meet you, Colin," she said, standing up. "Sorry," she said to him, "I need to make a quick stop by the dungeons before Herbology. But I'll see you around, I'm sure!"

With that, she dashed off. In fact, Harriet was in such a hurry that she didn't even notice the calculating look being exchanged by the twins.

Harriet Potter, Dungeons-September 2, 1991

Harriet resisted the urge to cover her ears as her Uncle Severus continued to berate her for her "ridiculous stunt." To be fair, she deserved it, and had been expecting it, but that didn't make his comments any easier to endure. Once he finally seemed to finish, he leant up against his desk, as if he no longer had the strength to stand.

Harriet twiddled her fingers, looking down at her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry, Uncle Sev, really. Ron and I got stuck. We just panicked."

"I know your sorry," he said after a moment. "But you'll be even sorrier after you spend the weekend helping me clean cauldrons. Without magic."

"That's not fair!" Harriet argued. "I already have detention with Remus!"

Snape looked unconcerned. "And that is exactly the reason as to why I am having you help me. Your parents already agreed. Or would you rather they wait until break for them to ground you themselves?"

"Fine," Harriet grumbled. Snape glared at her and she hastily retracted her statement. "I mean, yes, sir."

Snape nodded. "Now, what brought you to classroom so early before class?"

Harriet straightened. "I need to borrow a potions book. I...lost mine."

"Tell me the truth," Snape hissed, "and I might actually consider granting you your request."

Harriet blushed, ashamed."Ron lost his potions book, but he can't ask his parents for another one after what he did and he's too scared to ask you, so I gave him mine."

Harriet spoke in one breath and, once she was done, Snape looked at her, unblinking. "Very well," he said after a moment. "But that'll be an extra day helping me, for lying."

She nodded in acceptance and hopped out of her chair. "Where are the extra books?"

"There should be some in that cupboard," Snape jerked his head towards the cupboard in question, going back to his brewing. "They'll be texts for older students, but should have everything you need. I trust that you will stick to the second year curriculum, and not deviate in any way, shape or form."

The look Snape gave her told her exactly what would happen if she attempted to brew some of the potions not on the second year list. She nodded and went to the small cupboard, opening the door.

There was only one book inside. It was old and tattered. Harriet picked it up and flipped through it. There was plenty of writing in the margins, but it was completely legible. She flipped to the inside cover.

Property of the Half-Blood Prince.

Harriet turned to her uncle. "Uncle Sev, who is-"

"Not now, girl," Snape snapped. "I'm busy brewing."

Deciding that the information wasn't too important, she shrugged and bid him a goodbye, taking the stairs two at a time. She needed to hurry, or else she would be late for her first class, which was, according to her schedule, double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs.

The sun was bright as she headed outside, making her way to the greenhouses. On her way, she passed the Whomping Willow. Several of its branches wore slings and its thick, trunk was heavily wrapped in bandages.

"Admiring your handiwork?" asked a voice next to her ear. She looked after her shoulder to find one of the twins (she couldn't tell which) with his face dangerously close to hers. She jumped backwards and whacked him heavily on the arm for scaring her. His brother laughed.

"Harriet, would you do us the honor-"

"-of accompanying us behind that greenhouse for just a brief moment."

"Why?" Harriet asked suspicously.

Fred (or George) smirked. "It's a surprise."

"We have some business to discuss," added George (or Fred).

Harriet bit her lip. "I'm going to be late for Herbology."

"Oh no you won't." One of the twins denied. The other nodded in agreement.

"Professor Lockhart just went inside, which means he's probably giving poor Professor Sprout an earful."

"She should be busy for the next few minutes."

"Or hours," one of them quipped.

Harriet nodded and followed the twins behind the greenhouse. The moment they rounded the corner, their smiles dropped. They were obviously angry at her.

"Now, Harriet," the one Harriet decided to designate Fred said sternly, "what do you know about the Marauders?"

"Better question," Harriet replied, shocked. "How do you know about them?"

Fred and George exchanged glances. They nodded. George pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket. Even though it was folded up, Harriet knew what it was the moment she laid eyes on the tattered piece of paper.

Fred took his wand and tapped it. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

"The Marauders Map!" Harriet laughed. She clapped her hands in pure glee.

"We owe them so much," Fred said seriously.

"Where'd you find it?"

"Nicked it from Filch's office, of course. First year."

"Best decision we ever made. They're the secret to our success."

"It's brilliant!" Harriet laughed. "My dad left it there hoping that another prankster would find it and use it! He'll be thrilled!"

"Your father is a Marauder, then!" George demanded.

"We figured as much, after the Howler," Fred added.

"But it was too good to be true." George finished.

"My dad is," Harriet confirmed. "And so are Sirius and Remus."

"Professor Lupin is a Marauder?" gaped George. Fred appeared to be praying to some higher deity, giving thanks for this opportunity. "All this time..."

"Right," Harriet said. "Well, I have to get to Herbology-"

"Wait a minute," Fred whined.

"You don't think we dragged you all the way out here just to question you, did you?" George posed. Harriet shrugged.

"Well, that shows what you think of us," Fred sighed.

"Hurt, we are," added George. Harriet shot another anxious glance at the classroom. She could still see Lockhart talking to Sprout, but the short witch was clearly getting agitated. It was only a matter of time before he left and class started.

"Is there a point to this?" she snapped. Fred and George exchanged glances. Neither of them was in the mood to get on Harriet's bad side.

"Yes," Fred nodded.

"Harriet Potter," George continued in his solemn tone, "As the only heir to the Marauder Legacy-"

"-and as best friend to our brother and, therefore, our adopted sister-" Fred interrupted. Despite herself, Harriet found herself touched.

"We present to you the Marauder's Map." George finished, handing her the Map. Harriet looked between them both.

"What? Seriously?"

"Yup," Fred confirmed, popping the 'p.'

"We have discussed it, and have decided that your needs are greater than ours."

"We know all of the secret passages anyways," Fred noted.

"May it serve you well," quipped George. Harriet looked down it.

"You know how to make it disappear, right?" Fred checked. Harriet beamed and took out her wand. She tapped the Map twice.

"Mischief managed."

Harriet Potter, DADA Classroom-September 2, 1992

Harriet finally made it to Herbology. Professor Sprout was rather irritable for the rest of the class, so Harriet kept quiet and let Hermione do all the talking. The lesson involved repotting Mandrakes and petrification and something else that Harriet couldn't remember.

No matter. She'd borrow Hermione's notes later.

Transfiguration had been a disaster and Harriet had never been more glad to go to lunch. Lunch never lasted forever, and Harriet now found herself sitting at a desk in Gilderoy Lockhart's classroom. She and Ron exchanged amused glances when they noticed Hermione's love struck expression and the way she was leaning forward eagerly.

The class quieted as they waited patiently for Lockhart to show up. When he did, he did it with flare. He flung open the door to his office and stepped out onto the small platform in front of the class.

"Welcome! Welcome! Welcome!" He cried, arms held wide. "My name is Professor Gilderoy Lockhart. Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award. But I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

He seemed to think this was funny and laughed at his own joke. The rest of the class remained quiet, except for the sighs of a few swooning girls.

Lockhart, realizing that nobody else found him funny, cleared his throat. He picked up a copy of one of his books from Harriet's desk. "I see you've all bought a copy of my book. Well done, well done."

"Just because you all have my books though, doesn't mean you've all read them. So, why don't we start out with a little quiz."

A collective groan sounded around the classroom.

"Yes!" Lockhart cheered, mistaking it for excitement. "It's grand, isn't it? Contain yourselves, though. Now, pass those around."

The class began to pass the tests down. Harriet flipped her page over to read the text. She couldn't believe it. Maybe it was a misprint? She turned to look at Ron's test, but it hat the same text and his face worse the same expression as hers.

"1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?" She muttered.

"2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?" Ron read aloud.

"3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?" Harriet exclaimed. "What is this rubbish?"

"No talking!" demanded Lockhart. Harriet made a face at Ron once Lockhart had turned away. Then she got back to the test. It was several pages long, so Harriet got started.

Harriet did her best to answer the questions as best she could, although she could tell she failed miserably. When finally got to the last question, Harriet just lost it.

54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?

Lockhart's birthday is the day he was born. I don't know what his ideal gift would be, but I would give him a good, hard, slap to the back of the head in hopes that it would knock some sense into him.

Ron, who happened to glance over at her test at that moment, snickered. Lockhart shot him an annoyed look, so Ron quickly quieted and went back to his own exam. Harriet breathed a sigh of relief when Lockhart collected the exams a few moments later.

He rifled through them in front of the students, pacing as he did so. With every piece of paper, his frowned deepened.

"How very disappointing! None of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac or that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples- though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogdeds Old Firewhisky!"

Ron looked as though he was going to be sick.

"Nevertheless, we have time to learn all that." He threw the papers down on the desk, then he turned around to face them, an intense look on his face. "Now, I must warn you. It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room."

He paused in his speech to lift up a cloth covered cage from behind the desk.

"Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

Harriet couldn't help herself, her curiosity getting the better of her. She brought her feet underneath her and placed her hands on the desk to brace herself. She knelt on the chair and leaned forward, which allowed her a better view of the cage. Next to her, both Ron and Hermione bit back eager smiles.

"I must ask you not to scream," said Lockhart as he placed his hand on the sheet covering the cage. "It might provoke them."

Seamus Finnigan laughed out loud.

"Cornish Pixies?" He howled.

"Yes," he said somberly. "Freshly caught Cornish pixies."

The rest of the glass began to giggle and laugh as well. Lockhart looked very put out. He scowled.

"Laugh if you will, but they can be devilish little blighters!"

When it become clear that nobody was going to stop laughing anytime soon,

Seamus Finnigan couldn't control himself. He let out a snort of laughter that even Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.

"Yes?" He smiled at Seamus.

"Well, they're not — they're not very —dangerous, are they?" Seamus choked.

"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"

Harriet didn't doubt it, although she still didn't find the small, electric blue creatures intimidating. Their faces were sharp and their voices were sharper. Harriet resisted the urge to cover her ears against the onslaught of noise. They squealed loudly and rattled against the bars of the cage, desperate to get out.

"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage. The pixies didn't waste a moment. They shot out of the cage and scattered all over. A few of them crashed through the window. The students screamed as glass fell everywhere. This only seemed to encourage the pixies, though. They began to tug at student's hair and rip apart their books. The thestral skeleton that hung from the ceiling gave way and fell to the ground with a loud crash. A group of pixies picked Neville up by the ears and hung him by his cloak on the chandelier.

"Everybody calm down," Gilderoy called from his position under his desk. He stuck his head out to check that it was safe. "They are just pixies! I can set this right in just a moment!"

He hopped out from behind his desk. With a flourish of his wand, he proclaimed, "Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"

This just seemed to make the pixies angrier. One of them grabbed Lockhart's wand and chucked it out the window. Lockhart yelled in protest, but not because of that. A few other pixies had taken hold of one of Lockhart's self-portraits. With a roar of protest, he lunged and grabbed onto it, trying to pull it back. The pixies struggled for a minute, then decided that it would be a better idea to let the painting go and watch Lockhart go flying.

Most of the students at this point had disappeared out the classroom doors, since the bell had rung. Neville still hung from the chandelier and she, Ron, and Hermione were batting at the pixies with their books, trying to get them to calm down enough to get Neville down from the chandelier.

"I trust you to take care of this," Lockhart called as he made his way to his office, using his portrait as a shield. "Thank you!"

"We're going to be late for History of Magic at this rate!" Ron huffed, trying to grab a pixie out of the ear. It artfully dodged his hand and, just to rub salt in the wound, blew a rasberry in his face. "Eugh!"

Harriet couldn't but agree. Thankfully, her skills as a seeker were coming in handy and she easily plucked several pixies out of the air. Ignoring them as they scratched and bit at her fingers, she stuffed them back in her cage.

"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Hemione, immobilizing two pixies at once with a clever Freezing Charm.

"That's one way of putting it," Harriet said dryly, looking at her now mangled hands. Ron had taken to clubbing his pixies over their heads with his books, knocking them out and keeping them from struggling, and Hermione's freezing charm meant that her pixies were stone still. Harriet's pixies, however, fought her every inch of the way, meaning that her knuckles were now bruised and bleeding.

"Hermione," she informed her friend, as they finished rounding up the last of the pixies. "He didn't have a clue what he was doing!"

"He must have!" Hermione denied vehemently. "You've read his books, Harriet, I know you have! You've seen all the things he's done!'

"He says he's done!" Ron retorted.

Hermione didn't have a retort to this. Instead, she straightened and fixed Ron with a glare. "Come on. We're late for History of Magic."

Harriet Potter, History of Magic Classroom-September 2, 1992

Remus had already begun his introduction when she, Ron, and Hermione ran, panting heavily, into the classroom. He stopped mid-speech and raised an eyebrow, mildly disapproving. Hariet dropped into her seat and tried to catch her breath.

"Professor Lockhart-"

"Cornish pixies-"

"Evil-"

Remus waved down their explanations. "Mr. Finnegan already explained your unorthodox DADA assignment."

Seamus snickered.

"You didn't miss anything." Professor Lupin assured. "I was just going over the syllabus for the year and the course expectations."

One of the things that Harriet hated about the beginning of the year was going over course syllabi. It was always incredibly boring.

She should have known that Remus's class would be an exception.

Professor Lupin kept things funny and light, while simultaneously making it clear that he would not tolerate slackers. Nobody seemed to care that the class would seem like a lot of work, though. Everybody was too excited about the fact that, finally, they would be learning something interesting in History of Magic.

As Remus spoke, he wandered up and down the aisles of desks. At one point, he walked past Harriet's seat. In a move so fast that she almost missed it, he dropped a small piece of paper on her lap. Once nobody was looking, she unfolded it.

You and Ron. Detention with me. 8:30 PM tonight.

Harriet nudged Ron and showed him the message. He made a face at her, but nodded in acceptance.

The class was over a bit later. The students exited, chattering excitedly about their new teacher. Harriet gave Remus a broad smile to show him that she had enjoyed her class. She would have stayed to talk to him, but she was starving, truth be told. She could talk to him after her detention.

"Lunch," Ron groaned. "I'm famished."

"You can't be that hungry," Hermione tutted. "You had breakfast only a few hours ago."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yea, but rounding up those pixies was really hard work. I can't help it that I'm-"

"Oh no!" Harriet cried, suddenly remembering something.

"What?" Hermione demanded, fearing the worst. Harriet turned around and began pulling both of her friends back to Lockhart's classroom.

"Neville! He's still stuck on the chandelier!"

Okay, this chapter is a bit shorter than my previous chapters, but this seemed like a good place to end. Let me know what you think! I've tried to keep the basics of second year, but still make it more interesting. How's it working?

tinyrose65