Chapter Nineteen - Speeches and Spirits

"Mister Potter, you will remain. The rest of you are dismissed."

Harry was getting tired of hearing teachers say those words. This time it was Professor McGonagall. This was going to make him late for Astronomy.

He packed his books and exchanged sympathetic looks with all of his friends as they shuffled out of the classroom. When it was only teacher and student, McGonagall sat down at her desk.

"Come here, Mister Potter."

Harry got out of his seat and went to the front. What could he possibly be in trouble for? He hadn't done anything lately. He hadn't had time to do anything. It was only the third day back. Why was he being called out on the carpet?

"Is something the matter, Professor?"

McGonagall didn't answer right away. She had her hands folded in front of her face.

"It is difficult to say these words, Mister Potter. They are of profound seriousness; nevertheless, I cannot ignore my suspicions any longer."

She was really making Harry nervous now.

"Your marks in Transfiguration have improved quite sharply. You made rapid progress all through last year, and now you sit at the top of the entire form."

"Across all houses, ma'am?"

"Yes, Mister Potter, your marks are the best in fifth year. You can perform every task I put in front of you. That cannot be faked. I find this sudden shift disturbing."

Oh Merlin, she was on to his Animagus training!

"Mister Potter, you're not cheating somehow, are you?"

"Cheating!" Harry was aghast. "Professor!"

"It is a question, Mister Potter, nothing more. I have to ask these things. By your reaction, clearly not the case. Very well, if you are not cheating, then are you getting extra tutoring? From whom? None of the upper year Slytherins had such marks."

"Er- Professor," Harry said, trying to think very quickly. "I did a lot of studying to survive the Triwizard Tournament. I learned a lot of spells, and I studied a lot of theory. Transfiguration really helped me. Do you remember that pig I made?"

McGonagall stared at him, her eyes breaking down his feeble protests and diversions.

"Mister Potter, that pig was well above your level, as incomplete as it may have been. I know for a certainty, that if you were to attempt it at this moment, you could do it admirably. Some force has taken action in your education of Transfiguration, and I want to know what."

"As you know, I've been living with my godfather, and-"

"Ah! So that's it." Oh bugger, what had she assumed?

"And he showed me a lot of Transfiguration on summer holiday."

McGonagall cleared her throat. "Oh, I'm quite certain of that."

"And I guess I've just picked it up."

"I'd certainly say so."

Was she buying it? Could Harry get out of this by skinning the edge of but not actually admitting the truth?

"Rules are only good when they make sense, Mister Potter. If a justification for breaking it can be shown, then it should be. With the Dark Lord out there, every skill you have is a weapon against him. Very well. Let's see it, then."

"See what, Professor?"

The look she gave him could have frosted the lake.

"Don't treat me like an imbecile, Potter. Your godfather has trained you to be an Animagus. It's as plain as day, once you mentioned him. I should have figured it out myself. Getting old, I suppose. But now that I have deduced the secret, please do me the courtesy of acknowledging it. Show me your animal form, please."

That steely gaze was both knowing and inexorable. Harry sighed.

Mongoose!

Chitter jumped up on the desk and sat back on his hind legs. He chattered at Professor McGonagall and was amazed to see tears welling in her eyes. He leapt to the floor, landed lightly, and resumed his human body.

"Such beautiful symbolism," she murmured. "Perhaps there is hope for us all yet."

"Professor?"

McGonagall cleared her throat. "Fifty points to Slytherin, Mister Potter, for demonstrating true mastery of Transfiguration."

Points? Harry felt very confused.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"You are welcome, but bear in mind that I will now expect only the best from you."

"Yes, ma'am. You're not going to tell the Headmaster, please, ma'am?"

"From one Animagus to another, I will keep it private, but if I should ever judge that he needs to know, I will tell him."

"That's fair enough, Professor."

He wasn't in trouble? Fantastic. Fifty points? Snape had only given him thirty. Thank you, Professor, he thought.

On the way down to the Great Hall after Astronomy, Harry caught sight of Weasley and his little gang headed from Gryffindor tower towards the stairs.

"Oi, Weasley!"

The expression on Weasley's face could have deflected the Killing Curse. Or caused it.

"What do you want, Potter?"

"That's Captain Potter to you, as long as you're in my Duelling Club."

Weasley ground his teeth, but he seemed to remember that Harry was also a prefect and could take points.

"What do you want, Captain Potter?"

"Do you want to take part in an exhibition duel?"

"With you?"

"Don't be so eager. No, with Draco. Each of you will get one partner, which is to remain secret until the match. You'll inform me the morning of the rally, and I'll tell you who Draco picked."

If Weasley couldn't hex Harry, Draco was a good enough second place.

"All right then. Sounds good."

"Good. Get along then."

"Shove it, Potter."

"Captain Potter."

Weasley didn't respond with any polite words.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth, Weasley?"

"Don't you have a go at my mum."

"I would never. I've met your mum. She's quite a sweet lady."

"My mum would never talk to scum like you."

"Your mum happens to like me, Weasley," Harry said smugly. "Despite the stories you exaggerate about, she thinks I'm really nice."

Weasley looked about to explode, but he turned and walked away.

"Bother," Harry said ruefully. "Now I can't take points."

As they left their last class of the day, they encountered Terry Boot. The Ravenclaw boy looked awful. He had dark bags under his eyes, and his robes were wrinkled.

He held a big bunch of flowers. Harry recognized daisys, pansies, a single purple rose. In his other hand was a red, heart-shaped box tied with gold ribbon.

Pansy took a step forward. The other girls put their heads together and began whispering.

"Terry, what are you doing?"

He dropped to one knee and held up the flowers and chocolate.

"As morning hues of sunswept fire caress your passioned face, alone with thee a pure desire to worship untold grace. My soul would cry in silent prayer to an hour swept apart. Your essence warms the evening air as I dance into your heart."

Harry recognized the poem as being from a Muggle movie, though he couldn't name which one.

Pansy didn't know what to say. Harry had almost never seen her at a loss for words.

"Terry-"

"Pansy, I've been miserable without you. I can't stop thinking about you. Take me back."

Pansy sighed. "Terry, don't be tiresome. We broke up nearly a month ago."

"I know. It's been a month of agony for me. Each day has been full of emptiness."

"See, this is being tiresome. Why didn't you send me any letters over Christmas? Why have you waited until now to bare your wounded soul? I had no idea you were still pining after me."

"So you'll take me back?"

She laughed lightly. "Oh, certainly not. I had very specific reasons for dropping you, and those have not changed."

"You're cruel, Pansy. I'm dying without you."

"Then die," she said heartlessly. "I don't like you in that way, Terry. All of the begging and pleading in the world will not change that. You're not good enough for me. You're a boy. I want a man."

Terry's face grew more and more despairing.

"Pansy-"

"Go away, Terry."

He got back to his feet and turned around. He walked away slowly, looking back only once. His eyes filled with tears, and he ran.

Harry really felt for Terry. If he'd been in his shoes and a girl had said that to him, he'd be a wreck too. It was like how Jamie Davis had moped when separated from and then broken up with Elan Malfoy, and how Tracy had moped around about Harry himself for a time.

Things were much better now.

Pansy was giggling with the girls now.

"Sunswept fire? Where did he come up with such a thing?"

Terry's display quickly spead on the Hogwarts grapevine. By the end of lunch, nearly everyone had heard about it. The subject of the gossip was smart enough to not be present for the mockery that went on. He was also likely the only one who'd managed to get out of the assembly. Nobody was allowed to leave after lunch, so one would be there unless one was willing to go hungry - such as a boy who'd told a girl he liked her and now looked like an idiot.

The High Table was moved down from the raised section. A simple podium was draped in black cloth. Harry sat towards the near end of the house table. Several witches and wizards wearing fine black robes and coloured sashes were also present, including Mister Malfoy. Harry had seen the governors a few times before, but he didn't know any of them.

Professor Umbridge stood up and went to the podium.

"Hem, hem. Thank you all for coming. I also want to thank the governors for convening so quickly. As you all know, the sacredness of the Christmas holiday was defiled by a cowardly atrocity. The Death Eaters attacked the Home for Magical Children. They slaughtered mere babes in arms and laughed at how brave they were. We of Hogwarts have come to mourn that loss of magical life. Fourteen children died in the attack. Today we remember Sila. Amanda. Meghan. Poov. Sarah. Anthony. Miles. David. Vishnu. Jason. Francesca. Melissa. Stanley. Lester. Fourteen young Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, and Slytherins waiting their turn under the Sorting Hat. Now they will never be Sorted. We will never know what talents we have lost. Perhaps we have lost the inventor of the next life-saving potion. Perhaps the Healer who can fully repair spinal injuries. Perhaps, perhaps."

There was barely a dry eye at the teacher's table. Sprout and Flitwick were sobbing into each other's shoulders. Hagrid was bawling great silent tears and blowing his nose loudly into a handkerchief the size of a pillowcase.

"Those who murder children are monsters. Today, we as a community must come together in order to show the country that we will not tolerate monsters. We will hunt them down and destroy them."

Harry clapped loudly. Who wouldn't?

"Your Ministry is working hard to keep us safe, but it's a big job. There is much work to be done. You can help. Let the names of these innocent children be your call to arms. The insanity of the Death Eaters threatens the very existence of magic itself. They will expose our world to the Muggles with their continued attacks. They are actively trying to breach the Statute of Secrecy. Thankfully, the Muggles quite often refuse to believe what they are shown, but sooner or later they will notice. We must prevent it."

Harry again led the applause.

"In this fight, all we have to lose is everything we are. Will we be the sort of people who bow down to a tyrant? Or will we be the sort of people who fight to defend what is decent and true and ours?"

The applause grew a little more. Professor Umbridge turned to Cedric Diggory. "Mister Diggory, you are Head Boy. What do you have to say? What sort of people shall we be?"

Cedric got up to cheers and applause. He went to the podium and stood silently with a sober face until the crowd calmed down.

"I don't know about any of you, but I found all my presents to be rather silly after I heard about what happened. I didn't think anything could sicken me that much without vomiting. I want to stop something like that from ever happening again. I've never really been one for public speeches and words. I wish I knew what to say in times like this. We have lost friends, classmates, and for many of us, family."

Cedric gripped the podium and took a deep breath. "I was an only child until I came to Hogwarts. It was here I found brothers and sisters, people I think of as closer than friends who I met here at Hogwarts. And now some of them are gone."

"I've never been good at words," Cedric repeated, "but I know this is a tragic day, and the only way we can overcome it is to stand together. We have to stand together and show You-Know-Who that if he does a thing like this, he'll meet a unified body against him. Wars should not be fought by killing kids."

Applause started, first by a few and then it seemed like everyone was clapping. "Loyalty is not just a Hufflepuff trait. Loyalty is a trait that we all share!"

Slytherins and Hufflepuffs alike stamped their feet and banged on the wooden tables. "If we are loyal to each other, we can win this war!" Cedric shouted, now barely heard over the roar of the other students.

Cedric's puffiness was getting a bit out of control. For a guy who wasn't good with words, he'd certainly managed to get a response from the crowd. For something billed as a memorial, it sure was loud.

Umbridge was back at the podium.

"Right you are, Mister Diggory! Together we will overcome. We will triumph over tyranny. Isn't that a catchy rhyme?"

"It is, Professor. Boys and girls of Hogwarts, at this time, I would like to introduce our musical guests for the afternoon. Please show your appreciation for Wand Smasher!"

The red curtain flew up with a crash!

Throbbing guitar music and pounding drums erupted in the hall. There weren't any pyromagicks or fancy costumes, but the band was unmistakeable. Edgar stepped forward and began to sing.

The night is dark and full of terrors,
The Dark Lord bringing back the strife,
We must be strong and stand together,
Or risk the perishment of life.

Now Emma and Agatha stepped forward and joined their voices to Edgar's, creating a haunting harmony. Their guitar playing didn't even pause, but Stan's bass got a lot more intricate.

The Darkness calls, the mists arise,
Collecting souls all through the night,
Need happy thoughts and a magic spell,
Silver Patronus to save the light.

Harry thought the music was good. It had good lyrics, good riffs, and good structure, but it didn't really seem appropriate for a memorial to dead children. For the first time he found himself not really enjoying Wand Smasher as they finished up the song.

They played two more songs, the last one a slower ballad that Harry actually did find fitting to the occasion. It was about loss, battle, and death, and he had to wipe at his eyes a few times. He vowed to himself that those babes would be avenged. Voldemort was nothing but a mad dog who needed to be put down.

As the cheers and applause echoed around the Great Hall, Harry tried to swallow his nervousness. His turn to speak was coming up in a moment. His words had escaped from his brain; thank Merlin he had it all written down. His hands were clammy and trembling slightly. A bead of sweat ran down his back.

Umbridge was back at the podium. She didn't look like she appreciated the music. Harry wondered if she'd listened to it at all before getting them to play.

"Thank you, Edgar, for those wonderful songs. The night is full of terrible things. Many citizens have already died in this war. Tonight we also remember Florean Fortescue, Carlene Foye, Benito Schwantes, Neil Noga, Hubert and Katy Sum, Melissa Rabun, Michael and Mallory Tischler, Eleanora Giffen, Clayton Pettengill, Kurt Harres, Tameka Laber, Matthew and Marcia Mahone, Richard Ortego, Nelson and Roslyn Abercrombie, Guy and Julianne Turpin, Maximillian and Hattie Hopkins, and Leonard Troxell."

Umbridge paused and let the weight of the many names settle on the crowd. Those students whose parents had been named were being consoled by their housemates. Lisa Turpin was a wreck.

"Each one of these fine witches and wizards was slain because they did not measure up to the hypocritical ideal of a madman. Their bodies were desecrated and returned to us only in mutilated mockery. We will not be cowed by such inhuman tactics. Our resolve remains firm. We are not afraid of the dark, for we bring our own light."

There was a modest amount of clapping. Umbridge was really worked up, and Harry hoped she'd keep going.

"I would now like to introduce our Duelling Captain, Harry Potter."

The applause was mildly gratifying, but Harry's stomach was still clenched in knots. It was bad enough that he'd had to compete in front of the whole school last year. Now he had to speak and sound intelligent. Laine squeezed his hand, and he bravely got to his feet. Her smile made the rest of the room fade away. Suddenly he felt like he could conquer the world. He stepped up to the podium

"Thank you, Professor Umbridge. Thank you, Edgar. One more round of applause for Wand Smasher."

Harry led the clapping. He took a deep breath. It was now or never.

"These guys have it exactly right. Voldemort is out there."

There was a ripple across the audience. Harry ignored it. If they weren't used to hearing him say the verboten name by now, they'd be getting a lot more exposure to it as he started drilling the duelling club.

"Voldemort doesn't understand mercy or compassion. He'll kill you just for being in his way. He'll kill us all if he gets the chance. We all have to stand up to him. If we don't, we'll all wind up as dead as those poor kids. The Aurors aren't going to arrive until after you've been attacked. They won't get there in time to save you. It's up to each one of you to be prepared to defend your families. If we all fight back, we can beat him. He remains strong only if we do nothing."

That line drew more applause. The tension in his chest loosened slightly. He let out a slow breath and continued.

"Many of us wish to fight. That's why we joined the Ministry Youth club. If you haven't come by yet, you should. We're learning things that will let us stand toe to toe with Death Eaters. We'll be able to beat them. We'll be able to win."

More applause. Umbridge was beaming at him. He sighed in relief. He was nearly done.

"To give you all an idea of what we do, I've asked several of our members to give an exhibition."

Draco had been the one to suggest the exhibition, so Harry had to allow him to participate. He'd picked Arcen Bulstrode to be his partner. They'd worked together many times before. They'd practised often since learning they would be teaming up. Weasley had asked one of his brothers to stand up with him. Harry wasn't sure if it was Fred or George, but he was sure they'd practised working as a team as well. They'd all prepared for a certain match-up.

They weren't going to get it.

"Draco Malfoy and Fred Weasley versus Ron Weasley and Arcen Bulstrode."

"What?!" came four outraged voices.

"We've been planning this little duel for a few days now, yes?"

"Yeah."

"You've had time to learn your partner's strengths and weaknesses? You have a plan of how this duel is going to go? Well, let me tell you, no duel goes according to plan. There's always going to be a dozen things you didn't figure on. Constant vigilance!"

The students chuckled a bit.

"Get on with it."

Ron shot death glares across the stage as Fred and Arcen switched sides.

"Begin!"

Fred and Draco may not have worked together before, but they showed no hesitation about mixing it up immediately. Ron and Arcen found themselves on the defensive. They couldn't seem to agree on who would shield and who would attack. Both cast a Protego, and Fred and Draco took the chance to split up and attack from different angles.

Stunners and Body-Binds flew fast and furious. Harry could barely even follow the action. After a few moments, the smoke cleared.

Draco and Fred stood triumphant while Ron and Arcen writhed on the floor in their bonds. Their wands were just out of reach on the floor.

The crowd applauded. The victors released the losers, and they all returned to their seats. Draco looked exceedingly pleased with himself.

Umbridge was back at the podium.

"That was a wonderful demonstration, boys. I would like at this time to introduce Mister Lucius Malfoy, one of our school governors."

Mr. Malfoy looked in the prime of health. He seemed fitter than Harry remembered. He no longer had the haggard look that he'd developed since the start of the war. Harry wondered if there was a bit of magic involved.

"Well done, Draco. I'm very proud of you."

Draco's chin came up slightly.

"Good evening, Hogwarts. I wish I were addressing you all under happier circumstances. I join my thoughts to yours as we mourn the loss of life. To have such senseless carnage visited upon us on Christmas, of all days, when families are gathered together," he broke off. "This is what the word tragic was invented to describe. There is no reason, no justification that can be given. Neither is there a political ideology that can excuse this lawless barbarism.

"I have spoken many times about the need to keep wizarding society separated from the Muggles. I have myriad arguments, but today I wish only to bring up one. Muggles are violent and uncivilized."

A shocked murmur rippled through the crowd. Several of the Muggleborns looked outraged.

"I know some of you here in this room are Muggleborn. I know that my words offend you. I hope the words of your history text do not also offend you. Muggles are violent. This is not in dispute. You are born with magic, and that magic has burned away your Muggle flaws. I welcome you to our world, because you do not belong to theirs. You could no more live among them and do without magic than you could do without your right arm. Muggleborns, tell me, the summer restriction against magic, it is ornerous, is it not?"

"Yeah," a few people said.

"Knowing what you can do with a thought, a swish, and a flick, yet never daring to, lest you be seen by a Muggle? It's bad enough for the summer. Imagine living like that day in and day out for the rest of your lives. One would go mad. Better to be in our world, where you belong."

Harry clapped his hands together, and the crowd followed the Slytherins.

"The Dark Lord thinks you don't belong. He thinks that you all deserve to die for the simple reason that you were born special to those who were not. He is wrong. He himself is nothing more than the unnatural product of Muggle and witch. What the Dark Lord's attack shows us is that he is no better than the Muggles he claims to hate."

Gasps came from all over the crowd.

Mr. Malfoy dropped his voice to a whisper.

"If you truly burn at the thought of what was done to the Muggleborn children in that orphanage, then the Ministry needs you."

There was more applause. He continued, his voice growing stronger.

"We cannot continue to live with the sword of Damocles hanging over us. If we would be free of his threat, the Dark Lord must be confronted and destroyed. His followers must be arrested or killed. The Ministry can't do it alone. They need your help. Our fine professors will prepare you. There is a job for you to do. One way or another, we will stop Voldemort!"

The crowd, which had been building up intensity was suddenly shocked into silence.

Mr. Malfoy looked out at them commandingly.

"Yes, I said his name. I say it without fear. I say his real name, Tom Riddle. He is a powerful, brutal wizard, but that is all. He is only human. We can beat a human."

Mr. Malfoy stepped back from the podium and returned to his chair. Professor Umbridge looked pale as a ghost as she continued the rally.

"Thank you, Mister Malfoy." She shivered visibly. "Headmaster? It is your turn."

"Thank you, Professor Umbridge."

Dumbledore had often this year seemed weary, as though he felt the full weight of his hundred-fifty years. Other times he had the sense of power and strength about him. Tonight was one of those nights.

"We have heard a great deal tonight about the need to support the Ministry," he said, his tone not necessarily approving, "but on a day like today, I ask you to embrace the silence."

The students were used to Dumbledore not making sense. They were here to rally against the Darkness. How could they do that and maintain silence?

Dumbledore paused for a moment, looking around the Hall.

"When Lord Voldemort fell those many years ago, there was unchecked jubilation. The worst fears of each of us evaporated in an instant, and in our haste, we believed that our best hopes would replace them. So we dreamed and failed to guard.

"The dream ended. In that instant we awoke, there was silence. We looked to each other, without direction and in fear. In note of wasted time and voice, we went mad together, and have again forgotten ourselves.

"Again, there is silence today, born of shock. It will last only for a moment. We will soon begin to speak loudly, overlapping and never listening. Will we choose easily and allow our souls to atrophy to spare others from our next mistake?

"We ask how children could suffer but not why they were there in the first place. We ask how to stop the next attack but not why we are worthy of being saved. We doubt each other but forget we were never deceived.

"Speak as one, together, unchecked, with memory. Do not grieve for those who die. Grieve those who live, ripped from the arms of parents, and realize that you are as blind as they are.

"Stay awake."

Harry wanted to be inspired by Dumbledore's words. The trouble was that he thought the old man incredibly naive. The Home for Magical Children was the best thing for Muggleborns. It got them away from the Muggles, who could never understand their magic. The actions of a madman did not negate this positive thing.

"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore. We've reached the end of our gathering today. I hope you will all reflect on what you have heard tonight. Decide what sort of a world you want to live in. Take action so as to bring it to pass."

A murmur rolled through the crowd.

"Dismissed."

With all that had gone on that weekend, Harry nearly forgot about his Occlumency lesson. He'd been clearing his mind every night before bed, but not as long as Professor Snape had told him to do. He had been taking quick moments through the days, and that helped his focus on schoolwork. He hadn't done very much of the meditations over the holiday, though, so Snape might not be too happy with him. He closed his Herbology notes early and took fifteen minutes in the solitude of his bed to clear his mind before heading to Snape's office.

"Good evening, sir."

"Good evening, Mister Potter. Welcome back from the holiday."

"Thank you, sir. Was yours a happy one?"

"As much as ever."

"Did you get coal from Father Christmas?"

"A few students make it a point to send me some every year. I find it of great use in preparing certain potions that require charcoal filtration."

Trust Snape to make the best of any situation.

"Brilliant, sir."

"Did you enjoy your visit home?"

"Oh, yes, sir. It was incredible. Sirius and Remus had the place all decorated. All of the Malfoys were there, and the Tonks family, too."

Snape quirked one eyebrow. "A family reunion?"

"Quite. It was pretty emotional."

"I imagine so," Snape said quietly. "I'm sure I'll be seeing it in your mind tonight."

"Probably, sir," Harry replied ruefully. "I'm thrilled to see them all talking instead of shouting."

"Rightly so. I am pleased for you, Mister Potter. Though not all receive it, every child ought have a happy family to love and nurture them."

"Yes, sir."

"Shall we begin?"

Harry braced himself and tried to detach from his memories.

"Legilimens!"

Harry could feel Snape pressing at the edges of his mind. Harry immediately pushed back, forcing the other presence away. Snape pulled back and tried a different angle. Harry blocked that too. He hadn't had any luck stopping Snape's assault, so he was determined to prevent it from even starting.

The next thing Harry felt had the feel of a hammerblow to the face. There was no tentative probe to warn him. Snape just attacked with the full force of his mind. Harry's defences crumpled under the onslaught, and images began to flicker through his head.

He fell back, waving his wand and casting the first spell that came to mind. Snape stood there with cords of twine pinning his arms to his sides. The look on his face was absolutely murderous.

"Mister Potter," was all he said.

"Sorry, sir," Harry said, hurriedly cancelling the spell.

"Let us go again."

On Monday, Professor Umbridge stood up at breakfast and called for attention.

"Hem, hem. To follow up on the great success of the memorial rally, I know a lot of you are looking for some way to get into the fight. Joining the Ministry Youth is one thing you can do to prepare. I would like to tell you now about another. At the end of the year, after the OWLs and NEWTs, there will be a grand duelling tournament. Single elimination, the ultimate winner will receive a fantastic prize, to be determined later."

The Great Hall began to buzz with excitement.

"If you are interested in signing up, please see Captain Potter."

Harry started. Why hadn't she informed him beforehand?

"Further details will be made available later in the term. Dismissed."

Harry picked up his bag and headed towards Defence class.

"A tourney, eh?" said Blaise. "Sounds fun. I bet I could do quite well."

"I think it's a smashing idea," Draco opined. "We're going to be in great shape to win. Look at all the help we've given Harry, and he's the captain because of how good he is. We're naturally inclined to triumph."

"I don't know, Draco," Millie said cautiously. "I know the seventh years have been putting in a lot of hours to cope with her ridiculous course. I think we might have some stiff competition. As much as I hate to say it, look at Weasley. He's gotten fairly competent as of late."

"I will not lose to Weasley in another contest," Draco practically snarled. "I don't care what I have to do. He will not win."

"I wonder what the prize is," Tracy said. "Harry, any hints?"

"This is the first I've heard of it."

"What sort of captain are you?" Blaise said.

"Blaise, you should join the duelling club."

"I've got to study. I'm still not used to thinking in English again. I've been studying in French for the past four years. It slows me down."

"You ought to put a bit more effort into trying to be one of the group," Pansy said. "You wonder why we don't seem to accept you, right? Maybe if we thought you were one of us."

"I have tried. You lot are all a bunch of snobs."

"So are you, you git," Draco said. "You think you're too good for us."

Professor Umbridge arrived promptly and took the roll.

"Hem, hem. Good morning, Slytherin."

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge."

"How many of you plan to enter the duelling tournament?"

The boys less Theo all raised their hands, joined by Millie.

"Come, come, ladies," Umbridge chided. "Surely you're not worried about breaking a nail. Why aren't you entering, Miss Parkinson?"

"I'm not all that good with Charms and so on. Professor Flitwick called me dangerous last year."

Umbridge looked shocked. "That is certainly unprofessional of him. You're just a bit wild, dear. You need to learn control."

"I'm trying, Professor."

"Miss Greengrass?"

"I hadn't made a decision just yet, Professor. I'm still considering it."

"That is wise. Careful thought should be given to every decision one makes. Five points to Slytherin."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Miss Davis?"

"I'm not going to have time to give the tourney the full atttention it would take to win. I just don't have that much time to train. If it weren't OWL year, I might consider it, but I've ruled out giving a half-hearted attempt, going in unprepared, and possibly getting hurt."

"Another excellent reason. One cannot do everything, though one might wish to. We must all establish our priorities. Schoolwork should most assuredly come first. Another five points."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Mister Nott, why will you not be entering the tourney?"

Theo hadn't been called on in any other class. All the professors seemed to know what had transpired and were respectfully not putting undue pressure on him. Professor Umbridge had honoured that unspoken agreement in the first term.

Not anymore.

The look Theo gave Umbridge was blacker than Harry's hair. Harry was surprised Umbridge didn't turn to stone or catch fire or start melting on the spot.

Long moments of silence were filled with awkwardness. She seemed expectant of an answer.

"Well, Mister Nott?"

Theo did not speak, but he stood up, leaving his bag, and walked to the door.

"Mister Nott, you come back here at once."

Theo ignored her and left.

"Detention, Mister Nott, and twenty points from Slytherin. You will return now."

Yet he did not.

Umbridge turned back to the rest of them with an angry huff.

"If today's material is on the OWL, he will regret skipping. If you all will open your books to where we left off, we will continue."

Harry earned points for Slytherin when he was able to demonstrate the Stunning Charm correctly.

"Think Theo's going to make it to class?" Harry asked Draco when Umbridge let them go.

"Who knows? Half the time I'm right, and the other half I'm wrong. I've given up trying to guess how he'll react."

Harry wanted to keep talking about Theo, but they were interrupted.

"Well done on the Stunner, Potter," Blaise said. "Think you could show me that?"

"Sure."

"Great."

"Come to duelling club."

"I'll consider it, Hair."

"Your loss, frog."

Blaise got irritated then and kept quiet for the rest of the walk down to the Potions dungeon, where the Gryffindors were already waiting. Professor Snape had not yet arrived, but they wasted no time in getting set up for the brewing session.

"Hey, Captain," Weasley said, drawing out the title insultingly.

"Detention, Weasley."

"Detention? For what?"

"You're out of uniform. Where's your hat?"

"I left it at home on accident."

"Better get your mum to owl it to you, because I'll give you detention every day I see you out of uniform."

"You're a menace, Potter. The slightest bit of power, and you go mad. All you Slytherins are exactly alike."

"And all you Gryffindors are exactly alike," he retorted. "Leap to wild conclusions, charge in head-first, make an arse of yourself, and never learn from your mistakes. Stop me if I get it wrong."

Weasly's reply was interrupted by the return of Professor Snape to the classroom and the bell. He glared foully at Harry and turned his attention to the lecture.

Harry always enjoyed double Potions, but today's attempt at the Invigoration Draught was not his best. He was distracted by thoughts of the duelling tourney. He realized he needed to start the sign-up list as soon as possible, otherwise people were going to hound him.

Lunch with Laine was always a nice break in the middle of his day, and Harry listened to her rave about Flitwick's lesson. Harry lost track of what she was saying, just watching her. Finally she noticed his noncommittal responses and mild staring.

"What is it?"

"You look beautiful."

She smiled, and it was like the sun had come out.

"Think we could spend some time together tonight?"

"I've got to patrol."

"Oh drat."

Harry thought very fast. "Want to patrol with me?"

"Can we do that? Won't I get in trouble?"

"Probably. Well, maybe we could have a few moments before my patrol."

"Looks like that's all I get this week. I'll have to make it count."

Harry blushed.

Harry had never enjoyed Transfiguration less now that Professor McGonagall knew about his Animagus form. She called on him to do all the demonstrations. He earned a load of points for it, but he did get tired of it after awhile. He was starting to get a reputation for being her favourite student.

Professor Sprout spent her whole lesson revising for the OWL, and they had to replant Mandrakes.

"I raise a crop every couple of years. With the war on, they might come in very handy."

Covered in dirt and smelling of dragon dung fertilizer, they retired to the dormitories to bathe.

By the time they were clean and dressed, it was time to head up to Great Hall for dinner. Harry was famished and took lots of everything. He studied in the common room after, and Laine sat beside him, working on her own assignments. She asked him the occasional question about the material, which he was happy to answer.

He finally put his books away and left for his patrol a bit early. Laine went with him, and they ducked into a broom cupboard on the ground floor for a snog.

Harry was stroking his thumbs on her hips. He dared to slip his fingers under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was warm. He was suddenly conscious of his clammy hands. He wanted to wipe them on his trousers, but he was afraid to give up the progress he'd made.

Her hands tightened on the front of his robes. He slid his hands up, running his fingertips up her spine. He could feel her ribs with his arms, and she squirmed away from him with a giggle.

"That tickles."

"Sorry."

"No more with the hands."

"Sure." He stopped and pulled his hands back.

She pulled his head down and blew gently in his ear. "You don't have to stop, but keep them where they are."

He grinned and quickly put his hands on her again.

"That's nice."

The bell announced curfew, and she made an unhappy, disappointed noise. "Stupid curfew."

They parted with one lingering smooch, and Harry felt hypnotized as she walked away.

Harry began his patrol in a very distracted state of mind. He was nearly done with the ground floor when Filch jumped out of a secret passage.

"What are you about, Potter?"

"I've got every right to be patrolling the corridors, Mister Filch. I'm a prefect."

"It's not your night. I've a copy of the schedule."

"I am also the Duelling Captain. I have a responsibility to help protect the students."

"Now yer just making excuses."

"My authority comes from Security Officer Umbridge. Perhaps you would like to discuss it with her?"

Filch grumbled in the negative.

"I've instructed all the prefects to take the next slot in the rotation in case anyone gets a copy of the schedule. Now if they expect to find little Padma Patil, they'll find burly Roger Davies. Constant vigilance."

When Harry had finished his patrol, he headed for the fifth floor and the prefect's bathroom. He was determined to take advantage of all his privileges if he had to fulfill all of his myriad responsibilities.

Harry bumped into Hannah Abbott as she was walking out the door. She wore one of the great, fluffy, yellow bathrobes and had a towel on her head. Harry admired her smooth legs for a moment before noticing how the bathrobe showed off her curves.

"Hi, Harry."

"Hi, Hannah."

"Good patrol?"

"Yeah. Quiet. Just going to have a bath and head to bed."

"Yeah, me too. I was just having a bath and getting a few laps in. I always try to at least twice a week to stay in good form. I'm off to bed now too."

"Don't let me keep you."

"No, that's okay. How've you been?"

"Things are good. Everything is good. You?"

"Good. Really good. I'm working really hard to get ready for the OWLs, which is of course obvious. I'm busy with prefect stuff and duelling club, which you know. Nothing really exciting. I find sleeping to be incredibly enjoyable as of late."

"Same here. I'm not going to get enough tonight."

"Well, I'll let you bathe. Good night."

"Good night."

Harry watched her walk out of sight before he went into the prefects' bathroom. He wasn't alone. Several other lads were also present. He nodded to them in greeting as he fetched his towel and claimed a spot near the deep end.

"Hey, Potter."

"Hey, Longbottom."

"What's up?"

"Not much. Just ran into Hannah Abbott on her way from here."

"Hannah?"

"You talk to her much?"

"N-no."

"You should. She's got very nice legs. "

"Does she?"

"You like legs, Neville?"

"Definitely. You?"

"Honestly, I like all the bits."

"That's a good way to look at it too. Hannah's pretty well put together."

"Yes, she is."

They lapsed into silence.

Neville spoke first. "Nice exhibition the other day."

"Thanks."

"I hope I can be that good someday."

"Keep at it. You're doing better."

"Sometimes I know I'm doing everything exactly right, but it still doesn't work the way it should."

"I've seen that. Your wand just doesn't seem to want to cooperate."

"Well, strictly speaking, this isn't mine."

"No?"

"It used to belong to my father."

Neville didn't sound ashamed or embarrased. Harry noticed that his chin came up slightly, though his eyes were downcast.

"That's really cool," Harry said. He suddenly wondered what had happened to his own parents' wands. Perhaps Sirius could find out.

Neville looked at Harry sharply, perhaps wondering if Harry were mocking him. Harry nodded.

"You must be honoured to carry it."

Neville paused just a moment before saying softly, "Yeah, I am."

Harry heard something in the other boy's voice. "But?"

Neville quailed a bit. "But it doesn't like me."

"What?"

"It's just a feeling I get sometimes. I can be doing a spell perfectly correct, and it just doesn't want to work for me."

"Have you tried other wands?"

"No. My Gran wouldn't hear of it. I tried to tell her during first year, but she told me to stop complaining and stop shaming my legacy."

"I had to try dozens of wands before I found this one," Harry said, showing it off proudly. "Mister Ollivander was delighted with me."

"I never met him. Heard a lot about him though."

"I think you should get a wand that suits you, Longbottom. It would probably help a great deal."

"Gran won't allow it. She'll never give me the money for it."

"Then let the Ministry pay for it."

"The Ministry? How?"

"You're a prefect, right? Doesn't Umbridge give out a sack of Galleons to spend on Hogsmeade weekends? Take ten for yourself and next visit to Diagon Alley, go and take care of it."

"That's a pretty clever idea, Potter. How will I hide it from Gran though?"

"You don't have to stop carrying your dad's. Just carry the other one too, in case of trouble. Here at school you can put his wand in a nice box or something to preserve it. You'll do better in your classes with your own wand, your Gran will be happy, and then you can tell her about the other wand. She'll see then that your dad's isn't right for you, and you can display it at home with honour."

"Nice plan. You just come up with that now?"

"It's a Slytherin thing."

"Thanks."

"No problem. You're a member of my duelling club. I need you at your best. I bet if you get a suitable wand, you'd be one of the best."

Neville shook his head. "We'll see, Potter. We'll see. You've probably got a point, though. Ron got a new wand this year, and look how well he's been doing."