After Friday morning breakfast, during which Parkinson glared daggers at Ron, and Hermione kept chiding him about cursing her, they all headed off to Potions. Harry wasn't thrilled about Potions first thing, but he suspected Snape preferred not having to deal with the accident prone firsties so early in the morning.

Harry himself sometimes wished he didn't have to deal with Ron and Hermione's bickering so early. She was especially naggy this year it seemed, and not only toward Ron. She regularly reminded Harry about being extra careful with Black on the loose, as well as the whispering during Arithmancy. He loved her, but she was getting on his nerves, and he could tell Ron was near boiling point. He reached it outside the door to the classroom, shouting, "I get it, Hermione! It was wrong! I shouldn't have! I'm lucky to still be here! But it's done, so just leave off already! Bloody hell!"

He stormed off to fling himself into a seat next to Neville. Harry followed a grim faced Hermione to a seat across the room from Ron. While he wasn't angry with her, he couldn't bring himself to feel much sympathy for her at this moment. She sometimes just didn't know when to quit. He got out his book, quill, ink, and parchment, and waited for Snape to arrive. He saw Parkinson enter with her cronies, Greengrass and Davis, all three throwing faces at Ron before taking seats in the back. Draco entered and sat with Bulstrode, who laughed outright at Parkinson. The rest of the class shuffled in, found seats, and they waited for Snape. He made his entrance a moment later, banging the door shut and standing at the front, arms crossed, stony-faced, barking out, "Silence!"

When all eyes were on him, he snapped, "Stow your things in your bookbags and pay attention!"

When everybody had done so, he began. "It has come to my attention that some of you have yet to learn how to play well with others. This class in particular seems to have taken House rivalry to new heights. While this may be appropriate on the Quidditch pitch, this classroom is neither the time nor the place for such antics. We deal with volatile ingredients and mixtures in this class. A slip of the hand, a mismeasurement, not paying attention could result in an explosion or toxic fumes that could kill all. It is imperative that you learn to work together, teamwork and cohesion is a must in this class, personal and House rivalries are to be put aside." He paused to glare at everybody, then continued, "to that end, you will now be assigned partners and you will learn to work together as a team. Dissention will not be tolerated. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?"

Ron shifted uneasily in his seat. He was guilty of that, he supposed, treating Hermione the way he had. But he did get tired of her bossy tone, and the nagging really needed to stop. He hadn't had a moment's rest since she found out about his fight with Pansy, and she hadn't even listened to why he did it. He suddenly found himself frowning at her back, and distracted himself by thinking about the slag that had started this all. He muttered to himself, "House rivalry isn't the only problem."

Of course, Snape's big bat ears could hear everything, Ron thought as the Greasy Git's attention was drawn to him.

"You are correct, Mr Weasley, in-house conflict is just as prevalent," Snape said, with a glare at Parkinson, who glared right back belligerently. Snape's tone softened into the danger zone as he added, "That issue, however, is to be dealt with by your Heads of House. If you have a conflict with a member of your own house, keep it out of my classroom and consult with Professor McGonagall."

Hermione got the eye this time, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, frowning over at Ron.

"Now then," Snape continued, "You will be assigned a partner. You will then proceed to create the simple potion I shall write on the board. Work together efficiently with a minimum of chatter. Decant and label your potion and put it on my desk by the end of class."

"Your partners are permanent for the foreseeable future: Potter, Malfoy. Weasley, Parkinson. Bulstrode, Longbottom. Crabbe, Thomas. Goyle, Finnegan. Davis, Patil. Greengrass, Brown." Snape continued on through the general grumbling and gasps of outrage, and Hermione looked increasingly worried, until he finally reached her name. "Granger, Zabini, Nott. We have an uneven number of students therefore you three will work together. Seat yourselves with your partners and get to work."

Everybody hesitated for a moment, until Snape growled "Now!" and strode to his desk, waving his wand as he did. The potion they were to brew appeared on the board, and everybody reluctantly sought out partners and seats. Harry joined Draco, across from Bulstrode and a terrified looking Neville. Harry and Draco nodded at each other, and stowed their bags.

"You get the ingredients from the stores and I'll set the cauldron up?" Draco said.

"Right," Harry replied and they set to it.

The general hubbub of everyone moving started with the Greasy Git reminding everyone that they were to be quiet as they moved. Ron stayed seated. He wasn't moving one bit for Pugsly. She could come to him. Neville smiled nervously at Ron from the seat across the row as Parkinson slammed down her book satchel. He whispered, "Sorry, mate. I heard what happened."

Pugsly shot Neville a poisonous glare. Ron laughed, "Still not talking? So sorry, Parkinson. Make yourself useful and set up the cauldron and things."

He rose and went to the stores to get the ingredients they needed for brewing.

Bulstrode was in front of him, right behind Harry. The girl said, over her shoulder, "You're the talk of Slytherin, Weasley. I'd watch my back if I were you."

Ron bristled, "Are you threatening me, Bulstrode?"

"Nah, mate." She said as Harry stepped out of the area. She stepped forward, "I'm thanking you. Parkinson is a rank bitch."

Ron was dumbstruck, his mouth gaping as Bulstrode finished and brushed past him. Ron gathered his things hastily and returned to his seat, on the way Harry laughed at him and nudged him with his shoulder. He sat, catching Nevilles eye as he did. The poor boy was flustered as Bulstrode began ordering him about. He heard her say, "No wonder you're no good at this. The flame is set too high for this base, and your cauldron isn't clean. Who taught you cleaning charms, Longbottom?"

Ron shook his head. Poor Neville went from one bossy partner to another. He placed the ingredients in front of his seat, portioning them out as Parkinson glared at him. With as much trouble as he was in, he still found it funny that she couldn't talk. He just wished Charlie had told him not to use the spell on humans.

Parkinson stamped her foot to catch his attention, and then shoved a note to him. He flicked it off the table and began reading the instructions written on the board.

This was going to be a fun year in potions, Ron thought. He wondered how else the Greasy Git would punish him.

Harry, who overheard Bulstrode, laughed and nudged Ron on his way back to his seat. Draco had the cauldron set up and stirring sticks ready. Harry set the ingredients down and said, "Bulstrode seems to be on Ron's side. She thanked him for silencing Parkinson."

"Millie is a good friend," Draco said, "and she's never been one to go along with House politics just because. She's her own person."

Harry nodded, looking over at her. She was quietly speaking to Neville, who was now looking slightly less terrified. Turning back to Draco, he said in a low voice, " I think Snape is looking to us to set the example."

"Very astute, Potty" Draco replied, "you're sharper than you appear to be."

"Oh look at you, paying me compliments and all. You'll turn my head, you little ponce," Harry replied in like.

"You're not my type, Potter, charming though you can be," Draco said drolly.

"Oh, I'm heartbroken, Malfoy," Harry laughed.

"Well, you'll have to get over your heartache, Potter Let's get to work," Draco said, "you chop the greenery, and I'll juice the shrivelfigs."

They set to work, Harry glancing over at Hermione as he separated the herbs into small piles. She and her partners seemed to be in deep discussion about the board instructions. Turning back to his own work, he began mincing.

Eventually Draco asked, "So, what happened to the Weasel?"

"Detention," Harry replied, "this weekend. He'll miss Hogsmeade, but so will Parkinson. I think he's just glad he wasn't expelled."

Draco nodded and went back to squeezing shrivelfigs.

"He told me he felt like Snape was angrier at Parkinson, even after Ron said he told Snape and McGonagall he refused to apologise and that Parkinson deserved it," Harry confided.

Draco looked up in surprise and said, "He told Snape that?"

There was a note of grudging admiration in Malfoy's voice, so Harry added, "Told him he didn't regret it and would do it again too."

He wanted Malfoy to properly appreciate what Ron had done in his defence. When Seamus asked Ron if he'd done it because of his dad arresting Draco's parents, Ron had said no, he'd done it because nobody should talk about someone else's mother like that, that he didn't feel bad about his father arresting the Malfoy's at all, because of what Malfoy Senior had done to Ginny, but that wasn't Draco's fault. And that didn't make it alright for Parkinson to spew such filth about anyone's mother, including Draco's. Harry had felt so proud of Ron then, and proud to have a friend like him. Harry wasn't fooling himself into thinking it had all made Ron and Draco friends, but he didn't want Draco to make light of Ron's actions.

Draco said more to the shrivelfigs than Harry, "I appreciate what your friend did, Potter. More than you know."

Harry nodded and went back to chopping.

Millie adjusted the flame on the cauldron once again as she watched Longbottom destroy the shrivelfigs instead of juicing them as the instructions said to do. She had no intention of babying him. She knew, just from the way he excelled in Herbology, that he was able to follow instructions. It hadn't helped that Granger had spent the last two years making sure he scraped by in potions instead of helping him. '

When Millie couldn't stand it anymore, she said, "You need to read the directions on the board, Longbottom before you even start your prep work, you know, like you do with plants."

Longbottom scowled, squinting his eyes as he looked to the board. Millie gave him a push after she tapped his flame off with her wand. "Go up to the front of the class and write it down, Longbottom. I'm not going to hiss directions at you, and my grade isn't going to suffer because you can't see from back here."

Longbottom looked to Snape who had just stepped from behind his desk to correct Vince whose potion was already boiling over. He paled and only walked to the front when Snape's attention was fully on Vince.

Poor Vince, she thought as Snape snatched out his wand and vanished the contents of his cauldron with a few terse words to the boy. Millie couldn't understand how Vince could do so badly in all his classes but could draw anything anyone asked him to do with ease.

Millie's eyes were drawn to Granger, the lucky girl. Both Theo and Blaise were dead sexy. If Millie was into competition, she might have tried to catch one of them, but she knew she'd just be disappointed. Both of them knew they were handsome and loved the idea of girls throwing themselves at them. No thank you, she didn't need to be strung along by some kind of juvenile Lothario. It would be amusing to see just what happened with those three and Weasley, who was now staring daggers at the swot and her two partners.

She added her fig juice to her cauldron, watching as the potion coalesced into the slick lavender it should be at this stage.

Malfoy and Potter seemed to be doing well together. When Snape had put them together, she'd thought he'd gone mad. In any other year, putting The Boy Who Lived with a known supremacist's son would have made for some entertaining classes.

But, Draco had seemed to grow up a little over the summer. She supposed having your parents arrested would do that, but it wasn't only that. He'd not been as full of himself as he usually was. Case in point, the last time she'd given him something the twins made for him, he'd barely restrained a sneer. She was almost certain he'd binned the gifts as soon as he left.

Potter looked back at her, his eyes that glowing green, tilted at the corners as he smiled absently at her. Somehow that little expression caused her to botch the slice she was making in the ginger root. She cursed under her breath just as Snape appeared at her elbow.

"Three points, Miss Bulstrode, if I ever hear that word in my classroom from you again." He stalked off and Millie reached for the extra ginger Longbottom had brought.

Snape glided silently between the tables, arms crossed, face stern. Harry looked up as Bulstrode did, and he smiled awkwardly, noting Snape's approach. He heard Bulstrode curse and Snape warn her, and he looked away to smile to himself. He was intrigued by her. She, while intimidating, didn't seem like the other Slytherin girls. She seemed the no nonsense type, and was refreshingly frank. Her comment to Ron about Parkinson made him smile again, but it quickly faded as a shadow fell across the desk. He looked up into the stony face of his guardian, who was watching him chop the second batch of herbs. "Sir?" Harry asked.

"It seems the proper eyewear has improved your technique, Potter, " Snape said.

"All the difference in the world. Sir," Harry replied. The man nodded and moved on.

"I hate Potions," Lavender Brown grumbled as she chopped herbs. She'd have rather juiced the shrivelfigs, but Greengrass had practically grabbed them from her hands, not giving her a choice. The Slytherin girl hadn't said a word to her after she'd snapped at her. "Get the ingredients.''

Lavender kept nicking her nail varnish with the knife she was using to chop with, and she was getting increasingly frustrated.

"For Merlin's sake, Brown!" Greengrass snapped at her, "hold your hands out!"

"What? Why?" Lavender said warily.

"Just do it," Greengrass hissed, and Lavender hesitantly put down her knife and held her hands out.

Looking about, and spying Snape on the far side of the room, Greengrass slid her wand down her sleeve and muttered something quickly, before Lavender could do more than gasp at her suddenly freshly manicured nails.

"That's an impenetrable finish, you dozy cow," Greengrass said derisively, "since you can't handle a knife properly."

"Thanks!" Lavender said appreciatively, ignoring the insult in favour of admiring her now perfect nails.

Daphne rolled her eyes and said," I didn't do it for you. I'm not taking a fail because you're too stupid to keep your varnish chips out of the mix."

"Will you teach me that spell?" Lavender asked hopefully. The taller girl scared her, but this was too good an opportunity to pass up, so she added, "Please?"

Daphne scowled down at the other girl, considering. These Gryffindor girls were the worst. She huffed out a disgusted breath and snapped, "Well I'd better, hadn't I, since I'm stuck with you, but it's not a favour, understand? I just don't want to fail because my partner can't groom herself properly."

Lavender bit back the offence she felt at the implication she wasn't well groomed. How dare this Slytherin bitch! Still, Lavender was just as stuck with Greengrass as Greengrass was with her, and Lavender didn't want her horrible friends, Davis and that slag Parkinson, targeting her. She swallowed her ire and said, "Of course not. Thank you."

Suddenly Greengrass straightened, her gaze focusing behind Lavender. Uh-oh, she thought as Snape suddenly spoke, his annoyance audible.

"Do either of you understand what 'a minimum of chatter' means? Greengrass, I expect better of you."

Before she knew what she was doing, shocking herself even, Lavender blurted, "Please, Sir, Daphne was just telling me how to chop my herbs more efficiently!"

There was silence as Snape eyed them both a moment before saying curtly, "Carry on" and moving off.

Turning back to Greengrass, who was glaring at her furiously, Lavender, feeling emboldened, said cheekily, "Not a favour to you, understand. I just don't want to get in trouble for talking when you spoke to me first," and went back to chopping her herbs.

Hermione huffed in annoyance as the two Slytherin boys ignored her advice about the way they should organise their brewing. While one cared for the cauldron, the other went off to gather ingredients. When Zabini returned, he set out his chopping board and and obviously expensive set of professional knives and began prepping the shrivelfigs. Hermione, having already set up her board, began working on the lac beetle wings. She had positioned the tiny insect and was just beginning to pull the carapace away to expose the nearly microscopic silvery white wings when Nott said, "That's not the best way to do that, Granger."

"Oh, and I suppose you know a better way?" Hermione snapped. "I'll have you know that this is the way Grampitt and Sark described doing it in their treatise. If it's good enough for them…"

Zabini snorted. "It's all right to use eighteenth century potions techniques if you're trying to recreate an eighteenth century potion, Granger, but we're in the twentieth century, and Theo is right."

Hermione wanted to stamp her foot. "Oh, so why don't you show me the correct way to do it, Nott, since you said something."

Nott grimaced. "Busy here."

He continued stirring the base in the prescribed clockwise manner, his lips moving as he counted the stirs. Zabini rolled his eyes and said, "I suppose I will show her then, Nott. I didn't know we'd have to do remedial potions work with this one, as often as she shows off."

"I'm right here, and… " Hermione said, her whisper rasping as she tried to contain her outrage. "Remedial potions? I'll have you know…"

Suddenly Snape was behind her. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger for your inability to work well with others."

Nott smirked and Zabini smothered a laugh. "Just winding you up, Granger. You're not that bad, you just rely too much on books, and not enough on… well, not books."

Zabini took his wand, positioned it above the beetle and whispered, "Tollo."

The tiny insect split into separate parts, rearranging in small piles of different body parts. He gave her a charming smile. "I realise you're a Mud–ah–ggleborn, and you don't know most of the spells we learn from our parents, but you really should ask someone to help you. Gryffindor does have purebloods, you know."

Hermione felt her face flame with heat. She wasn't sure if it was from anger or mortification, she only knew that she just wanted to be anywhere but near the two pureblood prats Professor Snape had seen to saddle her with.

Nott moved his hand, clumsily knocking the pile of ginger root that he had prepared right before starting the base. He said, "Zabini, we need more ginger root."

When the other boy left, Nott said, "Don't let him get to you, Granger. If he sees you're upset he won't stop. Now, can you hurry up with the beetles? They are the next step after the ginger and the fig juice."

Hermione wondered idly why a Slytherin would help her as she set two more beetles out to dissect. Nott caught her eye, "I'm not helping you. I just don't want to fail."

Zabini returned and they worked in near silence the rest of the period.

"Nice going, Crabbe," Dean said, dumping their replacement ingredients on the table so they could start over. Luckily it was a simple potion, and they'd be able to finish in sighed and readied the cauldron again, "this time I'll do the adding and stirring, you prep the ingredients...that is if you can actually read the instructions, or do you want me to draw you a picture? I can, if it'll help."

"You Gryffndors think all your bluster solves everything," Crabbe retorted in his thick voice, "I don't need your shite pictures, Thomas. Probably stick figures anyway."

"I don't know, Crabby," Dean said conversationally, not letting the other boy's insult bother him, "I'm a pretty good artist."

"Not better than me," Crabbe said belligerently, squinting at the board.

"Juice the shrivelfigs, chop the herbs, dissect the beetles, slice the ginger. Are you sure you can read, Crabbe?" Dean asked again, serious this time.

"I can read, Thomas, I don't need your help," Crabbe snapped as he began furiously chopping herbs. He'd die before admitting it, but the Gryffindor reading out the instructions had helped immensely. Why did he always mix words up, or read them wrong? Was he actually as stupid and slow as Malfoy had often told him?

Dean quickly juiced the figs, sliced the ginger, and began adding the herbs Crabbe was finishing up with and stirring, while the other boy started on the beetles. "So...you draw too?" he asked casually.

"Yeah," Crabbe said distractedly, removing beetle wings, "mostly. A little painting, but I haven't learned how to make it move yet."

"That's so cool, how the paintings move and talk," Dean said, "they don't do that where I come from."

"Because you're a Mudblood, like Granger," Crabbe said so casually it took a moment for Dean to process what he'd said. He glared at the other boy, until he looked up, a confused look on his dull face.

"What?" he said in confusion.

"You don't even know what you just said, do you?" Dean snapped incredulously, "it's so ingrained in you, you don't even think about it, do you?"

Crabbe stared at Thomas trying to think of how moving paintings would piss him off? He didn't understand what the other boy was getting at.

"Unbelievable," Dean growled, "just finish with the beetles so I can finish this potion and don't talk to me anymore."

"Fine," Crabbe shrugged and went back to the beetles. Daft wankers, those Gryffindors he thought to himself.

Severus stalked around the class watching the chaos he had created. He had thought very little about the pairings past Potter and Malfoy. He couldn't deny, however, that he had taken particular glee in placing Parkinson with Weasley. The girl had no sense, just like her dam. Amaryllis, her mother, had been a particularly vapid creature as a young woman and as the wife of one of the Dark Lord's upper echelons had distinguished herself by being cruel to those she considered beneath her. Severus had been the butt of many of her cruel jokes in school. He would not tolerate that type of behaviour in her daughter.

As he made his way through the students he was heartened to see that, even with the minor bickering that occurred, the students had mostly worked well together. He had no illusions that the peace would last outside the walls of his classroom. He did hope, however, that some of the discord within his own house would ease.

Nonetheless, it was nice that he didn't have to hear Granger's hissed instructions, or see any tomfoolery between the inmates of the two houses. Marks were a driving factor for both houses.

Soon enough the session drew to a close, and some students began placing completed potions on his desk. He was surprised to see that Longbottom had produced a potion that was within the same colour family as the correct one.

As Severus drew close to his desk at the front of the class, he said, "It seems that some have completed their assignment, for the rest of you dunderheads, decant what you have, place it on my desk, and you may leave."

As the children filed out, he gave a sigh of relief that he wouldn't have to avail himself of his usual headache potions for this class.

They had Muggle Studies next, so Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off, Draco trailing behind them, Goyle and Nott behind him. Harry knew Draco would be taking the class, but he'd been surprised to see Goyle and Nott there as well. Goyle, Harry suspected, had taken it because he thought it would be an easy option, but he didn't think Nott was that lazy.

They arrived at the classroom and took seats, Draco studiously ignoring his uncle. Once everyone was seated, Professor Tonks said, "Good morning, Everybody. Today I'm going to talk about the term project you'll all be required to complete, and the tools, machines, and instruments needed, as well as the rules you will be expected to follow." He paused for a moment and then said, "Harry, perhaps you and Miss Granger would come up and lend a hand?"

Harry and Hermione followed him over to a cabinet, which when opened revealed stacks of notebooks, boxes of pencils and biros, packages of rubbers, and a few other Muggle school supplies.

"I'm sure you both are familiar with these items," Professor Tonks said, handing each of them a stack of notebooks, and a box each of pencils and biros. "Please pass out one of each to everybody, including yourselves."

After they'd passed them out and took their seats again, Professor Tonks said "These instruments will undoubtedly be familiar to some of you from your Muggle school days, but for those of you that grew up in wizarding families, these are what Muggles use to write with. Pen, pencil, notebook." He held up each as he named it. "These are what will be used in this class rather than ink, quills, and parchment. Open the notebook now, and use the pen to write your name inside the cover. Hold the pen as you would a quill, and simply write. The pen will dispense the ink onto the paper."

Harry and Hermione had both already done so, and smiled at one another. Ron hesitantly followed their example, and appeared surprised at the ease of it.

"Take a few moments to get the feel of it by using the first page to test it out," Professor Tonks encouraged.

"What...is it self inking?" Zabini asked, peering at his biro.

"Yes, it is," Professor Tonks chuckled. "There is a small amount of ink contained in the barrel, good for several uses. When it runs out, you may get another from the cabinet."

They took a few moments to test the pens, then Professor Tonks had them try the pencils, explaining the need to sharpen them, not unlike a quill, when they became dull and worn down, and about the rubber at the end.

"I expect you all to bring these instruments to class each session. You will be using the notebooks to journal the progress of your term project. You'll start by stating the item you wish to make, why you chose it, and then listing and diagramming the steps you followed to accomplish it, as well as any notes you wish to make. The project and the journal will constitute the majority of your marks for the term, so keep it close."

Predictably, Hermione's hand shot up, and Ron and Harry shared a silent laugh.

"Sir, what will the project be? Are we able to choose anything?" she asked.

"For this term, we will be concentrating on woodworking, Miss Granger," Professor Tonks said, and Hermione's face fell.

She frowned at Harry and whispered frantically, "I don't know anything about woodworking! Where am I going to find a book about that here?"

Professor Tonks heard her, the whole class did, and chuckled.

"You aren't likely to find a book about woodworking here at Hogwarts, Miss Granger, however, you will not need one. The concept is simple. You have pieces of wood, and using the methods I will teach you, and the tools and machines I've provided, as well as your own two hands, you will produce a handmade piece."

There were several muted groans from the wizarding kids, including Ron, but nobody said anything.

Professor Tonks just smiled and said, "Now then, in a moment we'll step over to the woodshop I have set up, and I'll show you the tools and machines we'll be using, and explain what they are, how they work, and what each is used for. Leave everything but your notebooks and pens or pencils, and follow me."

The rustling of paper and cloth, and the murmurs of students filled the room as the professor stood by the door. "All right, all right, try to keep it to a dull roar as we go next door to the shop."

They all trooped out to a room with the door open. A series of runes were engraved above the lintel, into the stone. They glowed eerily in a faint greenish blue. As they passed under, a soft frisson of energy raced over them, the light limning their woollen robes and then dispersing. Harry shivered at the sensation. He didn't remember that feeling when he'd been in the room before.

The machines gleamed under several muggle light fixtures that hung over each instrument. Harry saw the drill press he and Draco had helped Professor Tonks with earlier in the summer. It now sat next to several others. Harry and Ron drew near one of the machines, a flat table with stripes marked into the top of the aluminium plate, obviously meant as measurements. The plate housed a circular, toothed blade meant for cutting. On the floor beside the machine were more runes etched into the stone. The machine itself was marked with yet another set of runes.

Harry could tell that Hermione , whose hair was still crackling and fluffy from walking under the rune on the door, was puzzling out the connections.

Professor Tonks began, "These are the various tools I have adapted for use in the magical world. They are Muggle made and quite dangerous if not used as they are intended. I have, up here, a list of equipment you must wear in this room whilst the machines are running. If I find you without your safety gear, it's an automatic detention and a two page essay on safety practices."

The man paused for effect, seemingly looking at each student before he began again. "Safety goggles, ear plugs, neoprene gloves and aprons are required when you enter this room. They are at the back of the class, in the locker marked with each of your names. You will find carpenter's pencils, all the measuring tapes and guides, and hand tools at each table. Carving and finishing supplies are at the table under the windows. There is a separate room through that door," he indicated a wooden door on the east side of the room, "that is to be used to paint, stain, lacquer, and finish all your end of term projects."

"Now, as these are Muggle machines, I've had to make some changes to their power sources, can any of you tell me how that has been accomplished?" He asked, leaning against one of the tables, one leg crossed over the other.

Hermione, who had practically been vibrating with questions, raised her hand, "Is it elemental rune magic?"

Professor Tonks gave her a small, tight smile, "Thank you, Miss Granger, but it is customary to let me acknowledge you before you answer the question."

Hermione blushed and looked down, abashed. The professor went on, "As Miss Granger has guessed, I used runes, specifically Norse runes, to harness elemental magic. Those that you may have noticed over the exterior door and the windows collect free elemental fire."

Hermione raised her hand again, Professor Tonks looked at her, "Miss Granger?"

"I understand the use of Uruz and Kennaz, because they represent wild power, and torch respectively, but the use of Raidho is puzzling. Doesn't it have to do with travelling or horses?"

"The runes are immaterial here, really, but no, Raidho is also tied to Thor, the god of Thunder." He answered. "Now, the second set of runes you see on the floor by each machine is to collect the power that has been harvested…"

"Ancient runes aren't usually used directly like this, Sir." Hermione interrupted. "I've never read about transitive properties used to make a power source."

"Yes, Miss Granger, I suggest you might take this subject up with the Ancient Runes teacher, she knows quite a bit about this." He answered repressively. "The third set of runes engraved on each machine…"

Hermione raised her hand again, and asked, "Is there a book that I might read to find out about how each of these runes are used?"

Harry noticed Draco roll his eyes in exasperation, and several of the older students grumbled, and Ron poked Hermione in the side with his elbow and whispered, "Hermione, shut it."

"Miss Granger, I will answer your questions after class. Please don't interrupt again." Professor Tonks said and then continued with his lecture, telling them about the tools, their uses, and the dangers each posed. He ended the class with a journaling assignment where they were to write down ideas for their end of term project.

Harry and Ron waited for Hermione outside as Professor Tonks spoke to her. She came out of the class, her eyes slightly red and much more subdued than she normally was.

The three went to lunch, Draco following behind them until he met up with Millie.

At the table, Ron was his usual semi-gluttonous self, and Hermione was still quiet, while Harry picked at his food, the nutrition potion that he'd had to drink that morning seemed to decrease his appetite. Just as he thought he might leave, Snape caught his eye from the Head table and with just a quirked brow, he conveyed that he noticed Harry wasn't eating with his normal gusto. Harry picked an apple from the pile of fruit in front of him and looked at Snape while he bit into it. Snape's narrowed eyes told Harry that he should eat more than that, so he finished the apple, ate a few bites from each portion he had taken, and escaped the Great Hall without a look back. Who knew that having a kind of family would make a bloke care about what anyone thought?

He waited for Ron and Hermione and they went to DADA. Professor Lupin had promised a practical lesson that Harry was looking forward to. Nothing much occurred in the class, but they did learn how to cast several protective spells. Hermione hadn't caught on as quickly as either Harry or Ron. Harry noticed that, of the Slytherins, Crabbe had the strongest Protego. Harry had almost laughed when he'd put Parkinson on her arse. She'd scooted along the floor for quite a few feet before she stopped. The spell Crabbe had cast had finally ended, and her screech caused several in the class to laugh.

Professor Lupin had set them an essay on a creature of their choice for their next period. He'd said he wanted two feet of parchment. Harry had hung back after class.

"What is it, Harry?" Lupin asked, his tone mild as he shuffled parchment and books around on his desk.

"I was just wondering…" Harry began. "I was wondering if…"

"Yes?" Lupin looked up at him, his attention focused on the boy before him.

"Was it weird, the way the Dementors kind of focussed on me on the train?" Harry asked finally. "I mean, did I do something to make them interested?"

Lupin sighed and said, "I would love to be able to reassure you, Harry, but…I can't tell you much about that aspect of their behaviour because study of Dark creatures has… not been encouraged in the past."

"Oh." Harry said, "I just thought… you'd know something more. I guess you know what creature I'll be writing about."

"That's an excellent idea, Harry." Lupin chuckled. "I'll also consult a friend of mine who has worked on them."

"Thanks, Sir." Harry said as Lupin went back to organising his books for the next class. "I'll see you next week, then."

After that came Arithmancy. Harry purposely sat next to a Ravenclaw so that Hermione couldn't bother him with hissed instructions. During the class he'd learnt how to project the calculations in the air before him. He'd worked all of the assigned problems correctly, getting half marks on only two for work he hadn't shown. All in all, he was pretty pleased with his performance.

Harry and Hermione had agreed to meet up with Ron, who had a free period while they had Arithmancy, to go to the library and get started on their DADA essays. Draco tagged along behind them, teasing Harry about Slytherin getting the quidditch pitch first for practice. They good naturedly trash talked each other's teams as they walked, until Hermione turned round frowning and asked Draco if he were coming to study with them.

Draco, momentarily caught off guard, and aware that Nott and Goyle were within earshot behind him said, "What? I can't use the library too, Granger?"

"Of course you can," she snapped back.

"So what then? I can't talk with Potty?" Draco asked a bit belligerently.

"Well, you weren't really talking with him, were you? Just insulting him, but I couldn't care less who you talk to," she replied in kind.

"C'mon, Hermione," Harry said, trying to keep the peace. He knew she was still a bit sore about whatever Professor Tonks said, and was taking it out on Draco. He suspected his sitting elsewhere in Arithmancy added to her mood. She had badgered Professor Vector with questions too, and although Vector hadn't seemed annoyed by it, the rest of the class had obviously been. "He wasn't insulting me," Harry pointed out, "it's just sports trash talk. Doesn't mean anything."

"I wasn't talking to you anyway, Granger," Draco said, "but, well...you just can't help yourself interrupting, can you? Just like in class."

Hermione glared daggers at Draco, and Harry, spotting Ron waiting by the library doors, hurriedly said, "Let's just get to the

library. There's Ron."

With a final scowl at Draco, she turned and stomped off in a huff.

"What's she all in a boil about now?" Ron asked as they entered the library, "this is usually her happy place."

Hermione had slammed her book bag on a table and was angrily pulling out parchment, quills and ink.

"She's still in a strop over Muggle Studies," Harry said quietly as they approached the table.

"She's pissed at me because I had the audacity to speak to Potty here," Draco snickered.

"Don't wind her up anymore, yeah?" Harry said to Draco quietly, noting Hermione's fierce scowl.

"I don't need you to speak for me, Harry!" Hermione growled, "I can tell Malfoy to sod off all on my own, thank you!"

"What's this, Granger?" Millicent Bulstrode asked, joining the group, "is there a problem, Malfoy?"

"It's fine, Millie," Draco said with amusement.

She nodded and said, "Right. Let's find a table then. See ya, Potter, Weasley...Granger." She wandered off, and Draco paused a moment to sneer at Hermione, laughed, "Good luck, Weasel" at Ron, "Later, Potty," at Harry before following her.

"Nevermind Malfoy and his guard dog," Hermione said furiously, "we have work to do. You need to decide what creature to research for your essays. I've made a list for you to choose from..."

"I already know what creature I'm doing," Harry said with annoyance.

"You need to calm down, Hermione," Ron said, "Harry can talk to whoever he wants..."

"It's not about that!" she snapped at him, "I don't care who...forget about that! We need to get started, now, here's..."

"I'm going to find a book on my creature," Harry said, getting up.

"I'll join you!" Ron said, getting up as well.

"Harry!" Hermione called, hurrying after them.

Harry and Ron rounded the end of the bookshelf and ran smack into Draco, who dropped the stack of books he was holding with a surprised, "Hey!"

"Sorry!" Ron and Harry chimed, hurriedly helping him gather them.

"You know, Potter," Draco said, "you should let Granger know how annoying that is to the professors and the rest of us. One of these days Snape especially is going to have enough. You must know how much he hates that."

"I know," Harry sighed.

"What now?' Ron asked.

"Granger," Draco said, "she's actually pissed at me..." he hesitated as she joined them, apparently still furious,then continued pointedly at her," because I called her out on her constant interrupting in class. Really, Granger, you need to rein that in. You're pissing everybody off, not just me."

"Says you," she snapped at him.

"He's not wrong, Hermione," Ron said, "it's really annoying, so it isn't just him!"

Harry, well acquainted with the signs that Hermione was really firing up now, stepped back, not wanting to listen to yet another argument between them. He turned, intent on finding a book, and nearly crashed into Bulstrode, who looked down at him in amusement as she said, "Steady on there, Potter."

"Sorry, erm...Millicent," a flustered Harry squeaked.

"Millie," she smiled. She nodded toward the now furiously whispered argument that had broken out between Hermione. Ron, and Draco, "What's that all about?"

Harry sighed and related it to her, then added "..And then Ron sided with Draco, so you can imagine."

"I'm sure," she said, "but they are right."

"I know," Harry said, "she's my friend, but she is a bit much at times. Still, she means well."

"Ever the diplomat, Potter," she laughed, "here, let me break this up."

Harry followed her back to the other three, wondering what she was going to do. Hermione was hissing something about never learning anything if you don't ask questions, a line Hermione often threw at Harry and Ron.

"You're right, Granger," Millie said, to everyone's surprise, "My mums always tell me you don't learn if you don't ask questions, and I think that's true. But from what I see, it isn't the questions, it's the interrupting the teachers." She raised her hand to quiet Hermione when she turned on her. "I mean, everyone knows you're brilliant, but you seem to think you have to prove it in every class. I get it, some teachers eat that shite up, but you need to give everyone else a chance once in a while. And you need to give the teachers a chance to give their lesson. Ask questions, sure, but wait til they've finished. Most times you'll find your answers in what they're saying. Don't you think they've already thought about what anyone would ask?"

"Especially Snape, Hermione," Ron said, "or do you want to be scrubbing frog brains out of cauldrons til seventh year?"

Hermione was looking subdued and a little tearful now, and Harry felt a bit sorry for her, even while thinking she needed to hear it. For all their sakes.

"Buck up, Granger," a voice came from behind them. Nott, who nobody had noticed, had joined the group. " No need for waterworks, yeah? It's just advice. Nobody is ganging up on you, or putting you down. We all just want to get through classes and stay out of trouble. It's like Potions, right? What Snape said. Learning to work together. That's all it is."

Harry was looking at the quiet boy with a new respect. Bulstrode too. Like Draco had surprised Harry over the summer with some of the things he'd said, these Slytherins seemed to have a lot more depth than Harry had previously thought, and he wondered if that wasn't due to Snape as their Head. It was something to think about.

"Let's get to work," Draco said, and the three Slytherins disappeared behind the stacks, Millie turning to smile at Harry as she did.

Hermione abruptly said, "I have my books already. I'll see you at dinner," and hurried off.

"Think she's alright?" Ron said to Harry.

"I guess we'll find out at dinner " Harry shrugged, "let's get our books and go eat."

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