Chapter Three
It hadn't even been a second since Harry had taken a seat at the long Gryffindor table in the Great Hall when he was accosted by a rather determined, bushy-haired, know-it-all.
Harry's stomach clenched in preparation for the onslaught of lectures he expected Hermione to throw his way. After his persistent refusal to return the Half-Blood Prince's copy of Advanced Potion Making, Hermione had taken it upon herself to convince Harry otherwise, with her endless nagging and brutal glares (which were ineffective at best). Her constant scowling didn't help her case, either. During afternoon Potion lessons, a permanent frown seemed to be etched onto Hermione's face each time Professor Slughorn complimented Harry, making obvious her contempt towards his 'blatant attempts of cheating'. Instead of dissuading him, however, Harry was keener than ever to keep the battered book, especially after Slughorn's latest compliment – 'he's a natural, just like his mother!' – though Harry knew his real potion skills were anything but natural.
So it was to his surprise (and relief) that Hermione didn't broach the subject. Instead he watched curiously as she cast her eyes across the hall, conspicuously taking in their surroundings before she finally sighed in relief and slumped into the seat across from him.
"We have to steal the Polyjuice potion from Slughorn's office tonight," announced Hermione, in place of her usual morning greeting. Her tone was light and airy and not at all concerned about anyone trying to listen in, for the Great Hall remained relatively empty. Harry absently questioned where most of the students (and teachers) had disappeared to before Hermione's words finally registered.
"Why tonight?" he asked, genuinely curious. He wondered why Hermione, who was reluctant to even go through with the plan in the first place, had suddenly changed her mind and was seemingly eager to set things into motion.
Leaning forward in interest, Harry offered his friend his full, undivided attention.
"During my prefect patrol last night, I overheard some seventh year Slytherins talking about Malfoy," said Hermione, scrunching her eyebrows in concentration as she tried to recall the conversation. "Well, I only heard the titbits, but they did talk quite a bit about his dad, and how lucky Malfoy was to be ... chosen."
At the last part, Harry immediately straightened up in his seat, his mind ringing with alarm bells as he was struck by an eerie sense of déjà vu.
"Chosen," repeated Harry, turning the words over in his mind. "That lines up with what I heard on the Hogwarts Express!"
Hermione sipped her pumpkin juice before nodding. "I've been up all night thinking about it and – you were right, Harry. The day you told us Malfoy was a Death Eater … I should have believed you. Clearly Malfoy's up to something that the Slytherins all know about. I mean, why else would they talk about him all the time – aside from the fact that his father is in Azkaban? He may not be 'The Chosen One' like you are, but he's definitely chosen in a different way – the question is for what exactly?
There was a slight pause as they both contemplated the answer.
"I don't know, but we'll find out," said Harry finally, feeling more determined than ever.
As he ate his toast (while deliberating the many ways in which to expose Malfoy and hand him over to Dumbledore), the Great Hall started to slowly fill up with students and teachers alike, ready to eat their breakfast. Ron and Ginny were amongst the crowd, wearing identical grins and looking remarkably like their older twin brothers.
Hermione regarded the siblings with a questioning look. "What's so funny?"
"You won't believe it!" said Ron, howling with laughter as he clutched his sides. "Oh, you just had to be there! Tell them, Gin."
Ginny smirked, and Harry ignored the butterfly-like sensation that arose in his stomach at the sight.
"I won't say much, but let's just say it involves Snape, Neville and an apple."
.
.
After a trying day of boring lessons, Quidditch tryouts couldn't come fast enough, and as Harry was made captain this year, he was more excited than ever to take part.
Interestingly enough half the Gryffindor house seemed to have turned up and so tryouts took longer than expected, though Harry was pleased with the outcome. Naturally Katie Bell had been welcomed back onto the team, along with three new finds, while Ginny had been selected as a Chaser (she had scored seventeen goals to boot and Harry had never been more impressed). Ron had been made Keeper, an impressive feat considering his lacklustre performance from last year, and although Harry knew Ron had managed to block all the goals with his own, natural talent, he suspected Hermione had something to do with McLaggen's poor performance, his suspicions were only confirmed when she had turned a deep shade of pink when the boy in question had stumbled past with a dazed look on his face.
After Ron had finished recapping his entire performance (some parts were slightly exaggerated, per usual), Harry and Hermione had filled him in on their new plan, which had excited the redhead even more.
"First I got to beat McLaggen and now I get to steal from Slughorn," said Ron in a highly satisfied voice. "Could this day get any better?"
Harry laughed as the trio headed off towards Hagrid's hut. It had been a while since they had seen the half-giant. In between their enormous workload, frantic hours of practising non-verbal spells and conspiring against Malfoy, Harry, Ron and Hermione had barely had a moment to themselves, so seeing as they were free now, they decided it was a good time as any to pay their old friend a visit.
Things were slightly tense when they first arrived, though that quickly resolved once they had convinced Hagrid that they did respect him as teacher despite opting out of his class, and just like that, all was well again.
Hagrid had made them all tea as they sat around his enormous wooden table, with Fang resting upon Harry's knee.
"Help yeh'selves to some rock cakes, will yeh?" said Hagrid, pushing a plate of his home baked goods toward them. Harry normally resisted the urge to take one – Hagrid's baking was questionable at best – but today he was feeling rather peckish and so took a handful at once. He immediately regretted his decision once he took a bite – the cake was as hard as a hockey puck that it had almost taken out his entire front teeth – and so, when Hagrid wasn't looking, Harry fed some to Fang and shoved the remainder into his robe pocket.
"Hagrid?" said Hermione, clutching the handle of her tea cup in a delicate manner. "I was wondering if we could ask you something."
"Of course yeh can," replied Hagrid.
"Well," Hermione began nervously, "I was just wondering if there's any possibility that a ... Death Eater could be at Hogwarts without any one of us knowing."
Harry watched as Hagrid frowned, putting down his tea cup in a rather clumsy manner that some of the tea had spilled onto the wooden table, not that he seemed to notice, or care, as he was too preoccupied with answering Hermione's question.
"I don't know what yeh mean," said Hagrid, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "A Death Eater at Hogwarts? Not with Dumbledore around there won't be."
"But what if Dumbledore didn't know this person was a Death Eater?" asked Ron, glancing at Harry and Hermione. "What if it were a student? What then?"
"That's a very serious accusation," said Hagrid sternly. "Yeh can' just go around suspecting yer fellow classmates."
"If we were to suspect any of our classmates, it would be the Slytherins," said Harry. "Every single one of them hate muggle-borns and support Voldemort." As he had anticipated, Hagrid had winced at the sound of Voldemort's name.
"Now yeh listen to me," said Hagrid, trying to hide his impatience. "I understand the three of yeh enjoy sleuthing around, but that has to stop now. Yeh already know the Order is taking care of things."
"But – "
"No, Hermione. No ifs, no buts. The Order is full of fully-grown, qualified wizards, which I'm afraid none of yeh are yet."
"But the Slytherins are – "
"Not all bad, Ron. Just take a look at good ol' Professor Snape," said Hagrid fondly.
Harry snorted and said, "Yeah he's such a good role model. When I grow up, I aspire to be just like him."
"He's not a bad person, Harry. In fact, I've never met anyone as loyal to the Order as he is. Yeh just need to give him a chance."
Harry sighed. It seemed this whole conversation was fruitless. Hagrid would refuse to believe any of the students (let alone Malfoy) was a Death Eater, and would always choose to see the best in people, including Snape. With all the adults constantly dismissing his suspicions, it appeared Harry had no other authority figures to turn to now that Sirius was gone, leaving him no choice but to take matters into his own hands.
Ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach at the mere thought of Sirius, Harry deftly changed the topic into a much more light-hearted one. After a short while of catching up and convincing Hagrid that he was a better teacher than Professor Grubbly-Plank (which was controversial at best), the trio bade Hagrid goodbye and returned to the castle, determined now more than ever to steal the polyjuice potion, expose Malfoy and prove everyone wrong.
.
It was dinnertime in the Great Hall, and Albus was particularly looking forward to a slice of treacle tart that he had been craving all day.
It was no secret that the Headmaster had a rather severe sweet tooth, one that needed to be satisfied regularly with a various assortment of sherbet lemons, the occasional fizzing whizzbees and of course, chocolate frogs (he considered his very own card to be his greatest achievement to this day).
So upon his arrival in the Great Hall, Albus was quick to tuck into his food, savouring every last bite and saving the best (dessert) until last.
"Good evening, Headmaster," said Professor Snape, slipping into the seat beside him.
Albus paused mid-bite and gave the dour professor a nod. "Good evening, Severus. I trust you have had a wonderful day?"
Severus snorted. "Hardly," he said, helping himself to steak and potatoes. "I thought teaching Defence this year would help the dunderhead students protect themselves from the Dark Lord, but with the rate they're going, they're going to need protection from me."
Albus gave a hearty laugh. "Now, Severus. I'm sure they're not that bad as you make them out to be."
"You have no idea, Albus, the utter stupidity they come out with. Just the other day I had to force Potter not to whisper the incantation while performing a non-verbal spell, but the miscreant wouldn't listen. If this is the saviour of the Wizarding World, Merlin help us all!"
"Really? I was under the impression Harry was coming along rather well this year. From what I've heard from Minerva, he's been fairly adequate in Transfiguration, marvellous at Charms and absolutely excelling at Potions," said Albus, noting the surprised look on Severus's face.
"He's been excelling at potions?" repeated Severus sceptically. "I've been teaching Potter that subject for the last five years and I can assure you, the boy doesn't know his pestle from his mortar."
Albus resisted the urge to laugh. It was quite obvious to him that Severus had held a grudge against Harry, hating the boy for his father's past discretions against him, and making him out to be a carbon copy of James. What Severus failed to acknowledge, however, was that Harry also took after his mother, something that Severus should have been able to spot a mile away.
"Well, he certainly has improved since then," replied Albus, with a light chuckle. "Professor Slughorn is confident that Harry is a natural at potions, even claiming that he takes after Lily in that sense."
Severus's face fell briefly at the fleeting mention of Lily, but was quick to put his stoic mask back on in the blink of an eye. If Albus didn't know the man so well, he wouldn't have even noticed.
"That doesn't mean anything. Only that old Slughorn's been playing favourites again," said Severus bitterly, absently stabbing his steak in a forceful manner.
While Albus had silently agreed with him, he didn't state it outright, with the man in question sitting a couple of seats away. Instead, he asked, "How is Draco faring?"
Another angry jab at the steak, followed by a sigh. "He's not. Any time I try and talk to him, he manages to give me the slip. Merlin knows I'm getting too old for this."
"Well then you know how I feel," said Albus with a tired smile. "Life certainly has a unique way of reminding us mere mortals that we are not invincible. You mustn't worry yourself too much, Severus. Take a break every now and then, and if things become too much for you, have a sherbet lemon. They make everything better."
Severus simply stared at him.
"I'll keep that in mind," he said sarcastically, before returning to his meal.
A few moments later, there was a loud bang that came from the Gryffindor table, capturing everyone's attention; Albus and Severus included. Judging from the groans coming from the Gryffindors, and laughter from all the other houses, it seemed Seamus Finnigan had exploded his drinking goblet, again. Upon further inspection, Albus noted that three Gryffindors in particular was missing from the table.
Severus must have reached the same conclusion. "Where's Potter?" he grumbled.
Albus had to admit, something felt amiss. It was unlike them to miss dinner. Miss Granger, perhaps, if she was too caught up in the library, but not Harry and certainly never Mr Weasley.
"I'll go find them," said Severus promptly. "It's my turn to patrol tonight and I'm in the mood to dock as many points from Gryffindor as possible."
Albus rolled his eyes and watched the dark haired professor walk away, before finally tucking into his long-awaited treacle tart.
A/N - Sorry this chapter took so long! It's a bit slow but not to worry, I promise next chapter will be much better!