September 2, 1996

The first day of classes was always the craziest. Students would head down to the Great Hall for breakfast every year, where they were handed their schedules. Once they had eaten, the students would be off, and it was always a mad dash to get to the first class of the day; the first years were always getting lost. But once the first class was underway, everyone seemed to fall into their normal routine.

But the whole school was buzzing as Harry came down for breakfast about Harvey and Ron's arrival. The gossip mill was certainly running, and Harry had already overheard ridiculous versions of the story; one included the two running from Aurors. Harry had elected to ignore the stupidity of other students and focus on his friends.

Dylan was sitting across from him, eating a bowl of porridge; Jenna was to his right, buttering two pieces of toast. Harry had elected for toast as well. Jenna had been recapping one of the adventures that she had gone on with her older sister, Olivia. It seemed they had travelled up to Whales during the summer and had met two rather handsome muggle's who travelled around the UK to find the best beaches.

"So you are telling me that you spent how long with these two guys and you chose not to jump…Adam's…bones?" asked Dylan.

Jenna frowned. "No. I liked Adam, but I'm not going to just sleep with him because he is good looking."

Dylan said, "I need you to though. I have no social life outside of you two; my family is in shambles. I need juicy stories to distract myself."

Jenna asked, "Ask Harry for stories."

Harry shook his head.

"I already tried. But he doesn't kiss and tell," Dylan sighed.

"I respect my girlfriend too much for that," said Harry.

"Or you still haven't had sex, so there isn't anything to tell," said Dylan.

"And if we haven't?" asked Harry.

"Wait…haven't you?" asked Jenna.

Harry's friends seemed to enjoy this conversation regularly. Since the summer started, whenever his friends would get onto the conversation of sex—and with four friends who were all guys, it happened often—they all gave him this odd look. The first time he explained that Fleur wanted to wait, take things slow. A month later, the conversation happened again, but this time he refused to justify their choice to wait. And now, here they were, once more.

"No, we haven't. Why does everyone always seem so shocked?" asked Harry.

Jenna smiled softly. "I thought guys were always anxious to start bumping uglies."

"I want to, believe me, but this is more than just about me."

"Fleur wants to wait?"

"Yes."

Jenna's smile widened.

"What?" asked Harry.

"I just think it's great how you are so willing to match Fleur's pace," she said.

"I would do that!" claimed Dylan. "I just don't have anyone to do it for."

Harry and Jenna both rolled their eyes at him.

"Shush you," said Jenna. "Harry, just ignore the guys; they are just thinking with the wrong head."

Harry chuckled. That he could believe.

Professor Flitwick appeared behind Dylan at that point and smiled at them all. "I have timetables for you all." He handed Dylan his first. Then Jenna's before giving Harry his. "Harry, Professor Snape asked me to tell you that he would like a word before you come to Charms this morning."

Harry nodded. "Thank you, Professor. I'll go and see him."

Flitwick nodded. "Good lad, enjoy your day." He continued down the table handing out everyone's schedules.

Jenna leant over Harry to look at his classes. She said, "You are keeping it light."

"Intentionally. I have no need to do certain things since I am already doing my apprenticeship, so I just kept the subjects I enjoy," said Harry.

At the end of the last year, he had decided that he didn't need any electives and stuck to the core subjects. He was doing Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology and Defence. He would have also done Potions, but that wasn't an option for him. Harry could have easily continued all of his subjects; he had received perfect marks across the board, which had made his parents extremely happy. However, there was one choice in a subject that he was now questioning.

Gilderoy Lockhart was officially introduced by Dumbledore to the students the night before as their new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. And it annoyed Harry. From what he had seen of the man, he strutted about like a peacock displaying his features and trying to pretend he was something more. The list of books provided as the required readings were exaggerated tall tales; Harry hadn't been able to read the rubbish when he was a child. He wasn't going to try and force himself to read that now. But he knew that there was no proof that Lockhart was a fraud.

Harry could have easily dropped Defence; he didn't need the subject. Anything that he needed to learn for Defence he could learn from his father or from Snape; both excelled in the subject. But he decided he would see what would happen. And their first Defence class was after lunch, so he wouldn't have to wait long.

It didn't take Harry long to finish his breakfast, and once he was done, he got up to head down to the Dungeon's to find Snape. As he walked towards the door, Harvey and Ron appeared, both seeming a little worse for wear; a nice bruise had formed on Harvey's head, and Ron had one similar on his cheek. Harry offered his brother a warm smile as he passed but didn't stop to talk. If he did, he would probably end up yelling at Ron for his stupidity.

As always, the dungeons were dark and cold. Harry found Snape in his classroom, looking over his lesson plans. Snape had glanced up when he walked into the room but didn't speak. After Snape had explained what Harvey and Ron had done the night before, he had noted how agitated Snape had been; it seemed that the announcement hadn't dissipated yet.

"Good morning, sir," said Harry, "Professor Flitwick said you wished to see me."

"Yes," grumbled Snape. "I saw that you are still taking Defence this year?"

Harry nodded. "That was the plan until I learnt that ridiculous excuse of a man was teaching it."

Snape smirked. "I'm glad that you aren't fooled by his…whatever it is that seems to attract morons to that moron." Snape straightened and looked straight at Harry. "If you are going to take his class then be prepared to be underwhelmed."

"I have been considering dropping it; it's not like I need the subject," he said.

Snape nodded. "That is true." He pulled out his wand and waved it as the classroom began to set itself up for the first class. "The same deal as last year for your studies will apply," he said, "On your timetable, you should see two sessions allocated for your Apprenticeship, they are first-year theory classes, and you shall be teaching them in my place."

Harry was surprised. "Me? Teach?"

Snape nodded. "And you will assignment homework and also mark that homework."

Harry wasn't sure if he was pleased that Snape had enough faith in him to do such a task or if he was worried that Snape would enjoy watching him squirm while he did it. Either way, it would be interesting to be in charge for once.

"I have made a copy of the first-year lesson plans, but you should know everything that you need to for them."

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good, now get." Snape handed him the lesson plans.

Harry walked out to see fourth-years waiting and tucked the lesson plans into his bag; he would take a good look during lunch. He met Jenna outside of the Charms classroom, and she smiled widely.

She said, "You missed the most amazing yet horrible thing."

Harry frowned. "What?"

"Ronald Weasley got a Howler."


Harvey had woken up with a throbbing headache. A nasty bruise had formed on his head from where his forehead had connected with the dash of the enchanted car the night before. Ron had a similar mark on his cheek. After looking at himself in the mirror, Harvey decided he would stop by the Hospital Wing to see if Madam Pomfrey had anything to help. But first, he needed something to eat.

Ron had followed Harvey down to the Great Hall. They found Hermione sitting at the Gryffindor table with a copy of Voyages with Vampires propped open against a milk jug. She gave them both a pointed frown but still greeted them with a stiff 'morning'.

When they had returned to the common room that night, the rest of the students had clapped and cheered like they had done something amazing. It had felt awkward, and while Ron had enjoyed the attention, Harvey made excuses so that he could slip upstairs and go to bed. He didn't think what they had done was good at all; realistically, they had almost died twice. Hermione seemed to be the only Gryffindor, besides Percy, who was mad at them. She had lectured them before they went into the common room, only giving the password once she was satisfied, and now it seemed she was still mad.

Neville Longbottom, another second-year Gryffindor and another friend of Harvey's, slid over as Harvey sat down and greeted them cheerfully. He said, "Post's due any minute—I think Gran's sending on a few things I forgot."

Harvey smiled. Neville had the worst memory of anyone he had ever met.

Harry had just started his porridge when the familiar sound of rustling wings was heard overheard. Students owls flooded the Great Hall carrying packages, letters and newspapers. A brown barn owl that Harvey recognised as his father's owl landed beside Harvey. A letter was clasped in her beak. Harvey took the letter and broke off a piece of bacon to give to her. She munched happily before taking off again. The letter itself had his name written on the front in his mother's handwriting; a heavy sigh fell from Harvey as he knew it would be about the car.

A loud screech startled Harvey as a large grey owl crashed onto the table, making a mess. Hermione quickly grabbed her book to stop it from getting ruined as the owl's head hit the jug of milk and knocked the liquid all over the table.

"Errol," grumbled Ron.

The owl fluttered its wings and righted itself. Standing, everyone could see the red envelope that he held in his beak.

"Oh no," he gasped.

Harvey cringed as he recognised the letter. He had never experienced one before but had heard horrible things. His Uncle Sirius had received plenty when he had been a student, and there was no escaping them.

"What's the matter?" asked Hermione.

Ron had turned white; Neville was no better.

"She's—she's sent me a Howler," said Ron, his voice cracking.

"You'd better open it, Ron," said Neville, his voice timid. "If you don't, it just gets worse."

"What's a Howler?" asked Hermione.

Ron swallowed nervously, but no one responded. With a shaking hand, Ron reached out and took the letter. He seemed to take another breath before he broke the seal. Everyone sitting close by jumped as a loud screech echoed through the hall. Neville stuffed his fingers into his ears; Harvey was cringing, and Hermione looked shocked.

"RONALD WEASLEY! HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR. I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED. YOU WERE SEEN FLYING IT BY MUGGLES! AND YOU CRASHED IT INTO THE WHOMPING WILLOW. YOU COULD HAVE DIED."

The familiar voice of Molly Weasley echoed through the Great Hall, getting every single students attention.

"I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU. YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU. I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT HAD GONE. AND WHEN LILY AND JAMES POTTER REALISED THAT THEIR SON WAS MISSING."

Ron's face had changed from white to red, and he was trying to disappear from all of the staring eyes.

Harvey had a passing thought that it seemed that Ron was no longer enjoying the attention.

"I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME WHEN WE RECEIVED THAT LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT. WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS."

Harvey glanced down at his own letter and was so thankful that his mother hadn't chosen to send him a Howler of his own. But he couldn't imagine that his mum was as scary as Molly Weasley was right then.

"YOUR FATHER IS NOW FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT. IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE, WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME!"

The Great Hall fell silent. The ringing in Harvey's ears faded, and as the red envelope dropped into Ron's palm, it burst into flames. Ron was a little stunned, as was the rest of the hall, but it only took a few people to start giggling before the normal chatter restarted.

Hermione placed Voyages with Vampires down on the table and leant forward. She said, "I see. Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron, but you—"

Ron frowned at her. "Don't tell me I deserve it."

Hermione shrugged.

Harvey looked down at his letter and left the burn of guilt in his chest. He was not only responsible for going along with Ron, but now Arthur Weasley was in trouble at the Ministry. He could only imagine what his letter said.

"Why didn't you get one too?" grumbled Ron.

Harvey clenched his jaw but didn't respond. Instead, he tore open his letter and pulled out the parchment.

Harvey James Potter.

I have never been so terrified, angry and disappointed in my life. When you didn't show up on the platform, I was so worried that something had happened. Molly and Arthur were so ashamed that you had suddenly disappeared when you had been in their care. To learn that you stole Arthur's car, flew it to Hogwarts, were spotted by muggles and then crashed the same car has left me completely embarrassed. I don't even know what to say to you.

Albus Dumbledore has explained that you shall be receiving detention, which I think is very kind considering what you and Ronald did. I expect you to make amends for your mistakes and apologise profusely to Molly and Arthur, both now and when you return home for the Christmas Holidays.

While I am disappointed in your actions, I am thankful that you are safe. Please, I implore you to think. I want nothing more than for you to be safe. I love you.

Mum and Dad.

It was better than a Howler, that was for sure. Harvey closed the letter and glanced at his porridge. He wasn't really in the mood to eat, but his stomach was growling. He slid the letter into his pocket and picked up his spoon; he had a whole day to get through before he could climb back into bed like he wanted to.


Admittedly, Harry was kind of disappointed that he missed out on Ron's Howler. It would have been rather enjoyable to watch the brat get what get deserved. Harry also hoped that whatever letter Harvey had received would knock some sense into him as well. He hadn't seen Harvey yet, so he didn't actually know what their mother had said, but no doubt it wouldn't have been half as bad as Molly Weasley's screeching.

The rest of the morning had seemed rather ordinary; Charms class had been spent listening to Professor Flitwick discuss what was to come in the year ahead and the expectations now that we were all in N.E.W.T. Level classes; Harry was mostly looking forward to further study of nonverbal spells, he had managed to do a few that he repeatedly used in his potion brewing, but wanted to get a better mastery of it. What they started with though, was turning vinegar into wine. It was overly difficult for Harry, but he did get a good laugh when Carlisle's spell didn't go quite to plan, and his vinegar exploded all over him.

By the time Charms ended, Carlisle stunk of vinegar and headed down to the Slytherin common room to change. He was gone for all of their lunch break but met them at the Defence classroom with a sombre looking Amelia. No one had mentioned the brief argument the two had had, but it was clear that whatever had really upset Amelia was still bugging her. Jenna hugged her friend before linking arms with her and walking into the classroom. They took a table together, leaving Harry and Carlisle to sit behind them. Cedric and Will appeared a minute later and took the seats to their left. Dylan was the only one who had decided not to take Defence as it wasn't something he enjoy.

As Harry sat down, he took in the Defence classroom. It was normal that a room's appearance would change slightly with every teacher. Everyone had a different style or preferred layout. Sometimes personal items were added. It seemed that Gilderoy Lockhart had taken the redecorating to a whole new level and had plastered his own face across the walls. There was even a rather large painting that was painting a renaissance themed version of himself. Harry knew that this man had been vain, but this was just going too far.

Carlisle leant forward on the desk and said, "This man really loves to look at himself."

Harry nodded. "Apparently."

"He is handsome," said Jenna. She turned around to look at them.

"Sure, if you're into that," said Carlisle.

Amelia turned and said, "I prefer my blondes with less flashy tastes."

Carlisle smiled brightly at her.

"You know she is technically insulting you," said Harry.

Amelia offered a small smile.

Carlisle shrugged. "I know I'm a mess. She makes me better."

The door to Lockhart's office swung open and revealed the overly dressed man. He flashed them all his dashing smile and strutted down the stairs. He stopped to gaze at the painting of himself before walking over to his desk.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he said. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times 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 paused like he was waiting for them to laugh. No one did. he cleared his throat and didn't allow his smile to waver.

"I hope you have all bought the complete set of my books and read them; I thought we would start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about—just checking to make sure you really paid attention."

Lockhart tapped his wand on the stack of papers sitting on his desk. Harry almost laughed when nothing happened. Lockhart's smile didn't crack, but his eyes tightened. He tapped them again, and this time they lifted up and started to hand themselves out. As the test gracefully dropped onto Harry's desk, he frowned when he read the first question.

1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?

It had to be a joke.

2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

On and on it went—all the way to question fifty-four.

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

Harry scoffed at the test and looked up at the man.

"You have half an hour—starting now!"

Harry glared and sat back; he wasn't wasting his time on this.

The minutes ticked by slowly, Harry leant against his desk; Carlisle was attempting to write something but didn't actually know any of the answers. When the allotted time was up, Lockhart collected all the test and stood at the front of the class. The man's face dropped as he riffled through them.

"Did any of you actually do the reading? I must say, I expected more from students in their sixth year. I state in Year with a Yeti that my favourite colour is lilac; my ideal birthday gift is harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples; I say so in Wanderings with Werewolves." Lockhart shook his head. He paused when he got to one test. "Harrison Black, I am surprised that yours is blank. The other Professor praised you so highly; perhaps they were wrong."

Harry scoffed. "I don't waist my time reading the rubbish that you published."

Lockhart's smile flickered. "You believe that my work is rubbish?"

Harry nodded. "Completely."

Lockhart's mouth popped open wide; apparently, he was shocked. Harry's friends let out snorts of laughter.

"That is very rude of you to say," said Lockhart.

"Maybe—but I'm entitled to my opinion," said Harry.

"Well, for your opinion, I will take five points from Ravenclaw. Ha!" Lockhart crossed his arms over his chest and appeared smug.

This man was an utter fool. Harry stood up, slung his bag over his shoulder and moved towards the door. He had wasted enough time.

"Where are you going, Mr Black?"

Harry paused at the door. "I'm going to find something to do that is worth my time. Listening to your bullcrap is killing my brain cells."

The look on Lockhart's facing was worth any house points he lost. Harry left the Defence classroom and headed to see Professor Flitwick; he would be dropping Defence Against the Dark Arts. He was also curious to hear what his friends would say when their class finished.