Author's Notes: Gosh, this chapter was fun to write.
15-04-2014 Extra Note: In case you're wondering why Harry refers to Einstein as an American scientist it's because Harry was alright at Muggle History class (though he was bored there too), but doesn't remember nuances such as how German-born Einstein emigrated to America and became a citizen. If Hermione was around she would have corrected him, so no worries there.
"(Einstein) became a German citizen in 1914 and remained in Berlin until 1933 when he renounced his citizenship for political reasons and emigrated to America to take the position of Professor of Theoretical Physics at Princeton*. He became a United States citizen in 1940 and retired from his post in 1945." - taken from "Albert Einstein - Biographical', nobelprize org. Use your Google-fu if you want to read the rest.
As the term stretched on, Arithmancy was getting more and more complicated. Harry's number charts—which were required, but he didn't find all that helpful—grew more complex. Surprisingly, one day Hermione wasn't anywhere to be seen. She was such a stickler for attendance that Harry worried that something had happened to her. He went to lunch and noticed she wasn't there eating with her house, either.
"Something wrong, Harry?"
"Hermione didn't show up for Arithmancy this morning," he told Theodore.
Theodore had a strange look on his face. "She takes Arithmancy with you?"
"Yes… Why do you look like I said something odd?"
"She's in Divination with me in the morning, and this morning she stormed out after having a fit at Professor Trelawney," he said. "Then I see her in Muggle Studies in the afternoon."
Harry stared. "But she takes Care of Magical Creatures with me in the afternoon… How can she be in two places at once?" Harry paused, remembering a film he'd seen on the telly at the Dursleys. "There's no such thing as time-traveling magic, is there?"
"Beats me. If there was, I think I'd heard of it."
Harry looked along the table, wondering who to ask. In all the books of magic spells he read there had never been any hint of time-traveling magic. If there was, Harry would have liked to go back to kill Voldemort before the evil wizard murdered his parents.
Easter Holiday came and went. Many Slytherins, mostly older years, had stayed behind since their O.W.L.s and their N.E.W.T.s were nearly upon them; Harry stayed only because the greasy-haired bastard—who was technically still his legal guardian—wouldn't let him visit any of his friends. For a brief moment, Harry thought about running away only to receive a greatly detailed lecture about how stupid and idiotic that plan would be. Harry had left with his ears ringing and a headache the size of Manchester.
That Saturday was the upcoming Quidditch match between Slytherin and Hufflepuff. The Hufflepuffs were competitive but not malicious. Unfortunately, some Gryffindors, seeing that they were at a disadvantage going into their last match the next week, decided to even the odds so to speak. These bullies tried to find methods of incapacitating Draco, since he was Slytherin's only Seeker; if it weren't for Crabbe and Goyle, Harry imagined that Draco might have been pushed out a window by now. Due to these escalating tensions, a fourth-year Gryffindor and a sixth-year Slytherin was sent to the infirmary after being hit by a Reflected curse that caused leeks to grow out of their ears. After that, Harry took to wearing his Spellfast cloak every day.
The night before the match was to take place, the Slytherins went to bed early, knowing they'd need all the sleep they could get to stay extra alert during the match. Harry, as usual, slept badly. His dreams were mostly incoherent, but he found himself opening his eyes and pulling the curtain back to check the room in the faint moonlight. The eighth time he'd woken up, he sat up, put on his glasses, and walked to the window, gazing out across the grounds, which were still and quiet.
No breath of wind disturbed the treetops in the Forbidden Forest; the Whomping Willow was shifting slightly in an innocent manner. There was no black dog staring up at the tower window where he stood, but his eyes caught sight of something else, an animal… roughly the size of a cat, bounding towards the edge of the forest. It had a bottlebrush tail sticking straight up behind it.
Harry squinted and pressed his nose to the cool glass. He was sure he could see something else moving in the shadow of trees too.
And just then a great shaggy, black-haired dog moved stealthily across the lawn, the familiar cat—whose light color Harry couldn't determine—trotted by its side.
"Theo!" Harry hissed, knowing he was the lightest sleeper in the room.
A soft noise exhaled and Theodore's bed creaked quietly as he stood up, shambling towards Harry. "What is it?" He whispered, his face extremely pale in the moonlight. Harry pointed and Theodore looked out the window as well.
Harry looked back out the window where the Whomping Willow sat completely unmoving in the center of the Hogwarts lawn. Sirius Black and the cat had disappeared. Harry peered down the side of the castle as much as he could with the window closed, but neither animal was in sight.
"What was that? A Grim?" Theodore asked.
Adrenaline jolted into him. Harry's intuition had been right. Wherever the secret passageway beneath the Whomping Willow led, it'd go straight to the escaped convict. It meant that Sirius Black had to know the precise knot to paralyze the tree! "I need to get down to the Whomping Willow."
"I don't think that's a smart plan... Not in the middle of the night when Black could be afoot—" Theodore cut himself off. "Harry, how long has that dog been following you?"
Harry didn't answer.
"So, you've been followed by it, and you didn't think that was strange?"
Staring out the window, Harry didn't know what to say because then his friend would discover that he'd been lying to him.
Theodore sighed. "I ask because..."
"Because...?"
"What if… he's an Animagus?" Theodore's hesitant voice filled the empty room with the secret Harry had hidden for the better part of the year.
"If he was, why would he stay in Azkaban for twelve years if he could leave any time he wanted?" It was a question that had haunted Harry all year. If Black were guilty, he wouldn't have stayed... But why would someone who was innocent stay?
"Perhaps… he felt remorse for what he'd done. Maybe he felt he deserved Azkaban…"
"Then why did he leave?"
"…Maybe he felt he'd served long enough…?"
"What if…" Harry trailed off.
"What?" Theodore prompted in a hushed whisper.
"It's barmy."
"Spit it out. I might as well hear it now that I'm awake," Draco's acidic voice whipped out from the bed on Harry's left.
"What if he saw the newspaper… saw that I was taken away by the Dursleys and adopted by Snape…?"
"And if Black's an Animagus and your legal godfather… yes, it makes sense why he would try to attack Snape in Hogsmeade," Draco finished the thought for him. "Snape's between him and you."
"Then, why did Black try to get into the third-year boys' dormitory in Gryffindor tower?"
"It's obvious, isn't it?" Theodore said straightforwardly.
Harry suppressed his irritation.
"Not to him it isn't," Draco said curtly.
"Explain it then," Harry said.
"All Potters before you have been in Gryffindor and nowhere else," Thedore said, "Considering you're supposed to be a direct descendant of Godric Gryffindor… The pattern should have held true."
"You think he would expect me to go quietly when all he had was a knife?"
"He's deranged, anything's possible. He wouldn't think you'd know any spells useful enough to disarm him. And he'd be right… if you were a Gryffindor."
Harry turned towards the dim shape laying in Draco's bed. "You think Zabini can't defend himself?"
Draco tsked. "He's describing you, Harry. What would have happened if no one found out about the way those Muggles treated you?"
"I would've been miserable over summer break," Harry said.
There came a heavy sigh. "You have no imagination…" Draco murmured.
Theodore's voice cut in, "Would you have been able to get your homework done over summer break? Would your relatives have taught you what Snape did? What about what happened with Dobby last year? I doubt magic-hating Muggles would have been as understanding about the use of a Floating Charm around them. You could've been expelled."
Harry shuddered to think of it. "I would've gotten homework done, Dursleys or no… but I see your point." It might have taken longer for Harry to learn how to think. "But if Black saw my broom get destroyed and sent a replacement broom then he'd know I wasn't in Gryffindor. He'd have to be close enough to hear the announcements of the team positions."
"Oh, right. I guess Black would be wealthy enough to afford a Firebolt," Theodore agreed.
"One cryptograph's been solved, and as usual it's unlocked a new one," Draco said decisively, "Before you start yammering about what Black could possibly want in Gryffindor Tower if he knew Harry wasn't there, might I remind the both of you that I have an important match tomorrow."
"Don't get your knickers in a twist, we're done," Theodore responded, hopping back into his bed.
Letting out a great yawn, Harry crawled back into his bed and fell quickly asleep.
Wearing the bright green jumper from Mrs. Weasley in support of his team, Harry watched as the remaining Slytherins laughed or jeered when the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team bounced into the Great Hall energetically. They looked eager especially with both the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors applauding for them with their own house. It wasn't often that Hufflepuffs had much attention from the school.
After breakfast finished, three-quarters of the students applauded for the Hufflepuff Team again as if their encouragement might change the most likely result, now that Draco had use of Harry's Firebolt.
The Slytherin team left early to get changed in the locker room while Harry stayed behind with Theodore. Once he'd finished his meal, he walked with the rest of the Slytherins to the stands closest to the Slytherin Goalpost. It was a beautiful, dry day without any wind to blow the players off course. Theodore offered him a small, green flag with a glittering silver Slytherin serpent, which flicked its tongue out when Harry waved it; "Slytherin!" it hissed. He saw that the rest of the crowd were in Hufflepuff colors of black and yellow, brandishing banners of encouragement and waving yellow flags with the Hufflepuff black badger upon them.
Snape appeared in robes that were a rather peculiar shade of emerald green. The Potions Master took one look at Harry and then took the remaining seat in front of him. Harry smothered the urge to kick his head. It wasn't long at all until the announcer introduced the players—Harry booed the Hufflepuffs as they came onto the field and booed at the announcer's not-so-choice words while he described the Slytherin team. Harry knew his team had worked hard to train; implying they were all brawn and no brains was simply ridiculous. Then, Madam Hooch had the Captains shake hands and the game began!
Harry saw the Snitch only briefly, but it'd immediately flitted towards the cottony clouds disappearing. Deciding to leave it to Draco, he watched the Chasers and the Keepers in their ardent struggle to score points and defend goals.
"And it's Hufflepuff in possession, Malcolm Preece of Hufflepuff with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Malcolm! Argh, no—Quaffle intercepted by Cassius Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the field—WHAM!—nice Bludger work there by Maxine O'Flaherty, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by—Heidi Macavoy, Hufflepuff back in possession, come on, Heidi—nice swerve around Montague—duck, Heidi, that's a Bludger!—SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO HUFFLEPUFF!"
The announcer obviously wasn't Slytherin.
The Hufflepuff Chaser who'd scored punched the air as she soared around the end of the field; the majority of the stands screaming for her.
And then Marcus Flint smashed into her scrawny frame 'accidentally'.
Harry scowled, recognizing the poorly executed Slytherin tactic.
"FOUL PLAY! C'MON HOOCH, GIVE HIM A PENALTY!" The announcer shouted.
A moment later, Anthony Rickett chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head, missed and hit Graham Montague in the shoulder. The Chaser howled with pain, clutching his arm.
"NICE SHOT—Professor McGonagall, really?—" The announcer sighed heavily. "Madam Hooch is arriving to detail penalties."
"That will do!" Madam Hooch shrieked, zooming between them. "Penalty shot to Hufflepuff for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!" She blew on her whistle and Heidi flew forward to take the penalty.
"Come on, Heidi!" The announcer cheered for her as the crowd around him went silent. Harry wondered why no Slytherin had ever attempted to become announcer for their matches. The opinions were obviously biased; the Slytherins booed and jeered loudly around him.
"YES! SHE'S BEATEN KEEPER BLETCHLEY! TWENTY-ZERO, HUFFLEPUFF'S STILL IN THE LEAD!"
Montague, whose face was deathly pale, flew forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Hufflepuff Keeper Herbert Fleet was hovering in front of his goal posts with a fierce look on his face.
" 'Course, Herbie's a superb Keeper!" The announcer told the crowd as Flint waited for the whistle. "Superb!—YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!" The announcer roared.
Harry booed loudly with his fellow Slytherins. Flint called a time-out before the game could restart, and Montague was replaced with Adrian Pucey. Harry saw that Montague laid onto the provided stretcher and was floated off the pitch. There was another whistle, and the game was back on.
"Hufflepuff in possession, no, Slytherin in possession—no!—Hufflepuff back in possession and it's Tamsin Applebee for Hufflepuff with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field—THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"
Chaser Warrington had swerved in front of Applebee and seized her head. Harry's mouth dropped open in the blatant rule-breaking.
The Hufflepuff Chaser cartwheeled a little in the air and clung to him when she fell off her broom. She, of course, dropped the Quaffle.
Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again. Applebee remounted the broom Preece held out for her. Madam Hooch looked livid as she soared over to Warrington, shouting, "PENALTY TO HUFFLEPUFF FOR THE ILLEGAL HANDLING OF THEIR CHASER!"
This match wasn't much like the ones between other Houses Harry had seen. His team was playing very dirty to get the Quaffle at any cost. Harry wondered if this was how they always played or if Montague was encouraging more vicious tactics as unofficial Team Captain. He scowled.
A minute later, Applebee put in a penalty shot for Hufflepuff past Bletchley.
"THIRTY-ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING—" The announcer stopped again, and when they heard his voice again he'd said, "I'm telling it like it is, professor!"
Ignoring the announcer, Harry saw it as it glinted like a flying gold beetle across the pitch. Unfortunately, Cedric Diggory saw it first. Thankfully, Draco had kept an eye on the other Seeker too and headed straight for it. He dodged Bludgers from the Hufflepuff Beaters easily.
Waving his flag, Harry screamed excitedly, "GET IT, DRACO! WIN THIS GAME FOR US!"
Suddenly the crowd of green around him erupted, jumping to their feet and shouting encouragements. Flags with the silver serpent were flapped vigorously, emitting victorious hisses.
With a triumphant look on his face as the Snitch changed direction right out from Diggory's clutches, Draco wheeled the Firebolt around and kicked it forward into a dive. The broom went even faster, and he seemed to become a green blur. There, a few feet above the grass below, was a tiny, gold glimmer.
The Hufflepuff Team Captain and Seeker, Cedric Diggory, had fallen miles behind. Bole and Derrick didn't make his job any easier as they sent Bludgers his way.
"YES!" Harry screamed. "WE WON! WE WON!"
Soaring above them, Draco had his hand in the air and shook the Snitch furiously at them. The golden orb helplessly beat its wings against his fingers.
Harry looked over the field at the rest of the crowd, who were largely quiet and still except for a very vocal few booing. The Hufflepuff Team looked heartbroken, though none of them cried about it.
"Through dirty tactics and fancy gadgets," the announcer said sounding defeated, "The Slytherin team has won. Let's hope that either team in the last game get enough Quidditch points to win the Quidditch cup."
The stands were emptying around Harry as his housemates ran out to congratulate the team. Not caring for the press of crowds, Harry stepped down and leaned against the railing to get a better look. He watched as his teammates were raised up by multiple hands. The younger Slytherins were jumping up and down animatedly. Marcus Flint had been given an enormous Slytherin flag, which he passed with great dignity to Montague, whose arm looked completely healed. Montague turned his head side to side as if saying something to them, and Harry's teammates each took up a part of the flag and began to chant, the very same chant that Slytherins used in the locker room.
"Stir 'em up, add the zest
'Cause Slytherin's the best
Beaters beat, and Keepers keep
Chasers chase, and Seekers seek
Stir 'em up, add the zest
'Cause Slytherin's the best
'Cause we Serpents know how to reap
A win to make 'em weep!"
Draco, who was on the shoulders of Crabbe, helped lift the flag and shouted with the rest of them.
Even though his team had fouled the Hufflepuffs the most, the one with the worst injury ended up being a Slytherin Chaser. As the Slytherins carried on with their excitement, Harry smiled and felt he could have produced the world's best Patronus right then.
Harry's euphoria lasted weeks. Even though it hadn't been him who'd won the match, the entire Slytherin House seemed livelier.
Even the weather seemed to be celebrating. It was too bad, really, that Harry was stuck inside for Independent Potion Study and detention. He missed the Gryffindor's last Quidditch match.
Neither the Ravenclaws or the Gryffindors scraped by with enough points to beat the large gain that Slytherin had. Seeing the scores and hearing that the match had lasted only an hour, Harry had to wonder why they didn't deliberately draw out the match to get as many points as possible.
The Slytherins accepted the Quidditch Cup that evening from none other than Albus Dumbledore. Marcus Flint and the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch Team—including Harry—was invited to stand at the front of the hall.
"Good work, Slytherin, for winning the Quidditch Cup for the eighth year in a row. Be careful that you don't lose sight of yourselves in the heat of the game," the headmaster's voice boomed. With a flick of his wand, the Quidditch Cup flew to Flint's hands, who immediately passed it to Draco. Draco turned to Harry and offered a handle to him. "You helped," he said by way of explanation.
With a smile, Harry took the other handle, and his team behind him and his housemates at their table hissed with approval. There was a poof of purple smoke and a flash. Lowering the large camera, Professor Burbage smiled and promised to make copies of the photographs for everyone on the team. Harry was startled to realize that he hadn't yet been in a picture due to being out of commission both times Slytherin won the Quidditch Cup.
It was early June, and exams were upon them.
Bletchley and Warrington had their O.W.L.s this year; Marcus Flint and Gilbert van Tellwyenth had their N.E.W.T.s , which stood for Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. Harry hoped they both passed and graduated; from Gilbert, Harry had learned that N.E.W.T.s determined what sort of jobs one had the qualifications to apply for.
Because of these very important exams, it was no surprise to Harry that he saw less and less of Gilbert, who'd had the habit of walking around with his nose down, reading.
A little nervous of the upcoming exams, Harry studied fervently with his roommates, practicing especially for Ancient Runes and Transfigurations, his two worst subjects that year. He helped Crabbe and Goyle with the Cheering Charm that was likely to be on the Charms exam. Sally-Anne provided tutoring for Transfigurations, while Pansy gave extra tips for Astronomy. Tracey was particularly gifted at remembering dates and historical events. Draco helped everyone with Potions, while Theodore focused on giving everyone hands-on help with Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry was glad he'd never taken Divination; just seeing everyone, other than Daphne and Bulstrode, not study for it demonstrated to Harry exactly how much of a waste of time it was.
Exam week began and an unnatural hush fell over the castle. Monday, Professor Vector's exam was so easy Harry had been the first to finish it, but he waited until Sally-Anne was done before going to his next exam. Then after a hasty lunch with his roommates he headed to the Care of Magical Creatures exam outside.
Hagrid was vibrant and boisterous during their exam on flobberworm care. He'd gotten a fresh batch of them and told them that to pass the test, their flobberworm had to be alive in an hour. It was by far the easiest exam that Harry had ever taken.
Afterwards, Harry insisted on speaking with Hagrid, much to Draco's scoffing disgust. Sally-Anne seemed to understand Harry's need and shushed Draco, who didn't seem to like that but didn't say anything nasty to her.
"How's Buckbeak?"
"He's doin' well, doin' well, 'Arry," the half-giant looked at him uncomfortably. "How's yer back? Still not hurtin', I hope?"
"No, I'm as good as new," Harry half-lied. He no longer hurt, but whenever it was too cold or before he stretched, the muscles pulled tightly, though without pain.
Even though Hagrid didn't catch his lie, he looked guilty. "Awful sorry 'bout that I am, 'Arry. Buckbeak's too difficult for third years. Next year he'll only meet sixth years and older, so… So's no one gets hurt again." The half-giant scratched his head and then part of his beard. "Best yeh get goin', 'Arry. Don't want Professor Snape to come after me," he said with a wink.
Harry laughed at the joke intended, though he despised anything to do with his Head of House, and he went back to the castle flanked by Slytherins.
On Tuesday, the third years emerged from the Transfigurations exam at lunchtime. Harry noticed that most of them were either glowing or ashen-faced, comparing the results and either gloating their success or bemoaning the difficulties of the tasks that had been set, which had included turning a teapot into a tortoise.
"Harry, how'd yours turn out? The patterning didn't look as realistic as I liked, but it was passable," Draco said self-deprecatingly.
Harry looked away. "It had a willow-patterned shell."
Draco gave him a sad, understanding look. "Much better than your other attempts at least. The tail wasn't a spout, was it?"
"No, thank Merlin for that. I might get a Pass for it."
"At least yours didn't breathe steam," Theodore butted in. "I think my turtle only looked like one and was just a fancy, turtle-shaped teapot."
They had a good laugh at that.
After a hasty lunch, it was straight back upstairs for the Charms exam. Harry slightly outdid his Cheering Charm on Theodore, who'd ended up in fits of hysterical laughter and had to be led away to a quiet room for an hour before he could perform the charm himself. Harry knew he'd cast it the same on Crabbe and Goyle and wondered what went wrong; he thought that perhaps a Cheering charm made a cheerful person insensibly mirthful or perhaps it was because Harry had wanted it to really work…
Then after dinner, the third-year Slytherins studied together quietly in the common room for their History of Magic and Astronomy exams for the next day; the former ended up being on medieval witch hunts which Harry had actually studied only at Tracey's insistence. The long in-between period that day had Harry studying in Snape's Potions lab, while older years were being tested. Within an hour, Harry felt he was prepared for the Astronomy exam, and then two hours later he was ready for both the Potions and Ancient Runes exam. Since there was nothing left to study, he was tremendously bored in the silent, smelly classroom, while the greasy-haired bastard prowled around marking down notes about each student's potion.
Once three classes had cycled through their Potions exam, Harry put away his school things and went to dinner.
At dinner, Theodore, Sally-Anne, and Harry had their heads together about what the Study of Ancient Runes exam might look like.
"Based off how the rest of the year went, I think it'll be a Practical exam, where half of the class is going to suffer from the effects of some Rune and you're going to have to solve and counter it. And once your time is up, Professor Babbling will switch out the chairs and make the rest of us sit in them."
"That's awfully detailed for a simple guess, Sally-Anne," Theodore commented suspiciously.
She smiled. "We need to practice this. I want to show my parents that I've made O's or E's."
"I guess O's or E's are the better grades?" Harry said, "I've never quite figured that out."
Theodore and Sally-Anne looked at each other knowingly.
"What?" Harry asked.
"Sorry," Theodore mused. "We were just tested on that bit of trivia on Muggle Studies Exam Monday."
"But Muggle Studies is at the same time as Care of Magical Creatures…" Harry said slowly and then turned to Sally-Anne. "How could you be taking—"
"So these are the Wizard complements to Muggle grades," she started abruptly, "A+'s are O's. A's are E's. B's are A's. C's are upper-P's, D's are lower-P's or upper-D's, and F's are either lower-D's or T's."
These had been marks Harry had seen on his essays and tests for several years. "Wizarding A's are C's?" The marks he'd gotten his first year apparently hadn't been as good as he'd thought.
Sally-Anne smiled. "O stands for Outstanding, E for Exceeds Expectations, A for Acceptable, P for Poor, D for Dreadful, and T for Troll."
"Oh, that's sensible," Harry said. "The letters for Muggles are just the in order of the alphabet. I don't know why they exclude the E though."
"Professor Burbage says it's skipped because the D and F Muggle mark covers a vaster amount of failing from only getting two-third of the work right to none at all. Or an E sounds like a D or looks like an F," Theodore answered, "Muggles are very particular about direct communication, so the more universally understood the symbol the better."
A sudden thought appeared in Harry's mind at the talk of Muggle Studies. "Why are there no Wizard Studies classes for Muggle-born students?"
They both blinked at him as if the thought had never occurred to them, and it probably hadn't.
"I mean," Harry continued, "It's very stressful having to learn everything magical all at once. Why wasn't there a required introductory class to explain things about magic that magical people take for granted every day?"
"That's a fantastic idea, Harry," Sally-Anne said. He was warmed by the praise.
"I don't know why we don't already…" Theodore said. "We ought to petition our Head of House so he'll sponsor it to the headmaster."
Harry suppressed his annoyance at the mention of Snape. "You forget I'm friends with Professor Dumbledore and that he's fond of Muggles. You know he supported the Muggle Protection Act last year."
"Hm. So what could we say that would make it clear that not continuing to provide this class would be detrimental to the general student body?" Sally-Anne looked at the both of them. "I mean, there's bound to be people who are against making Muggle-borns less disadvantaged…"
They thought for a moment.
Draco leaned into their little group. Harry gave him a curious look.
"What are you three scheming now?" The Malfoy Heir said imperiously, a hand on his hip.
"We're going to petition the headmaster to include a required Wizard Studies class for Muggle-born students to ease their transition," Theodore said.
"Brilliant," Draco said aloud. "That's bloody brilliant. Why has no one thought of this before? Though, might I offer a suggestion?"
Harry shrugged.
"Required for Muggle-borns and Muggle-raised."
"A fair point," Sally-Anne said grinning.
"I will miss duping Muggle-borns into believing the most ridiculous and outlandish ideas," Draco said pompously. "Ah well, it was growing tedious having to always explain what and why and how. I don't know how my godfather puts up with it all the time; it's bothersome."
Theodore snapped his fingers. "That's it! Thanks, mate."
Draco gave him a puzzled expression.
"The benefit of requiring the class is a less stressful transition into our world, whereas the detriment of not doing so is that resentment and negativity gets fostered between Muggle-borns and everyone else," he explained to them. "It's really no wonder why nearly all the Muggle-borns—"
"And Muggle-raised," Draco interrupted.
Theodore nodded. "—and Muggle-raised get so prickly about certain topics. Blaise told me at the beginning of the school year that one of the Gryffindor first years had a meltdown during their first Transfigurations class."
Curious, Harry asked, "What was the issue?"
"Something about some Muggle's law…I think it was... Einstein's Law. It's not something Professor Burbage has covered yet." He peered at Harry.
"Er, Albert Einstein was a famous American scientist. He came up with e equals m c squared and loads of other things I can't recall," Harry said to their blank faces.
Understanding lit up on Sally-Anne's face. "Oh, I remember, a scientist uses the scientific method to study the natural world to find patterns so Muggles can mimic it and make useful things without needing magic." Sally-Anne nodded to herself. "It's kind of like what's done with Runic Magic, except we're studying magical properties of numbers and the like."
"What is… e equals m c squared? A sort of Muggle formula?" Draco asked hesitantly.
"If I remember right, energy equals mass times the square of light's speed," Harry told him.
Draco's face showed no understanding. "The... speed of light...?"
Harry decided to try another route. "The important thing is that it means that energy can't be destroyed or created. It must come from somewhere and that everything around us, whether it's our clothing, water, tables… Whatever has mass has a huge amount of energy stored in it. Though I have no idea why the speed of light has anything to do with it…"
"A Muggle came up with underlying foundation of Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration?" Draco said with a bewildered tone mostly to himself.
Rather hungry, Harry decided that was enough talking and grabbed more food to eat.
"You should've taken Muggle Studies. It's rather fascinating how Muggles have coped without magic," Theodore informed Draco.
"Like my father would allow that?" Draco laughed.
"I guess not," Theodore said ruefully.
"For your information," Sally-Anne said with an affronted tone, "Muggles don't cope; they've adapted, and they've adapted well."
"Oh, don't you get started on that," Theodore said. "If you ask me, you spend far too much time in Granger's company that you're beginning to sound like her."
Sally-Anne sighed. "I just happen to agree with her that the Muggle Studies class is a thinly veiled attempt to dehumanize non-magical people and to reinforce that they are lesser than us because of their absence of magic. I think a class of Wizard Studies would help balance that perspective out quite a bit, wouldn't you?"
Draco snorted derisively. "Muggles, largely, are little more than intelligent creatures on par with centaurs and goblins."
Harry choked on his food.
"Anapneo," Sally-Anne cast, tapping his back.
The hunk of meat that had gotten jammed in his throat suddenly hurled onto his plate. After taking a large drink of water to stop his coughing, Harry stood up to face Draco properly. "Muggles are human, just like you and I. If they weren't, Muggle-borns wouldn't exist," Harry said angrily.
Taken aback, Draco's face contorted into disgust. "No Muggle is like me."
"Nor is any magical person like you," Harry mocked. "You are completely unique. Your DNA proves it."
"DNA? You act like I know what that means!" Draco retorted angrily.
"Stop acting like you know everything then!" Harry shouted back.
Theodore got between them. "Easy, now."
"Is there a…problem?" Snape said dangerously, towering over the both of them.
"He provoked me!"
"Potter, do not yell at me."
"What? How did I provoke you?" Draco sounded honestly mystified.
"You equated Muggles to non-humans!"
"Potter, I will not ask again to lower your voice."
Harry bit his lower lip and tightened his fists to stop from attacking them.
"If I've offended you, I apologize…" Draco said more quietly.
"So, if I wasn't offended, you wouldn't be sorry," Harry shot back.
"That's not—!"
"Enough!" Snape told them.
Harry finally looked around the Great Hall. He saw that the rest of the students from other Houses were watching them intensely. He grew embarrassed to have caught attention in the worst possible way.
"You will duel," the greasy-haired git continued, "In the common room, tonight."
"Tonight's our Astronomy exam, professor," Sally-Anne told him.
Nodding slightly, Snape ordered, "Tomorrow then. Separate yourselves and finish your meal."
Harry sat down in his spot, dead-set on ignoring Draco. Rage was still swimming inside his head. He took a deep breath and let the air out, feeling slightly better once he had done so.
It wasn't until then that he realized that he hadn't seen a duel all year.