Minerva McGonagall stared over her glasses at the group of students who had gathered in her classroom. Her lips were drawn thin.
"It saddens me that such a bright group of students require discipline so early in the year," she said in a disappointed voice, with a barely noticeable movement her wand waved toward the painting on the wall. It was a landscape, showing a small cottage on a moor, just visible in the background was what appeared to be a young girl riding a horse, being led by a teenaged boy. The gorse bushes froze and the horse, rider and their companion paused in their journey. Terry Boot, Susan Bones and Padma Patil looked at each other in confusion, in all honesty they had been thinking of going to their Heads of House to complain about the detention as the reasons it had been given were tenuous at best. "I will not be tolerant of such poor behaviour in the future and you may well find yourselves in weekly detention if you do not make the necessary changes."
McGonagall reached behind her and picked a pile of papers off the desk. She passed them out to the students frowning sternly.
"Professor?" Susan glanced between the Head of Gryffindor and the paper in confusion.
"I suggest that you complete the work given, Miss Bones, without complaint."
"Y … yes Ma'am."
It was not the way Minerva had envisioned giving these lessons, but it was the best she could do at the moment. They had all done so very well. The few lessons they had managed the previous year being enough to ensure each of these students ended up with a distinction on their O.W.L.s. Now she just had to figure out how to coordinate this year's fifth years as well. Perhaps running multiple years in detention at once, it might help to throw off any suspicion. For the theory work, she could mix them in with the usual weekly detentions. Though that would be an issue when it came to learning meditation, perhaps she could work something out with Severus.
Susan lifted her quill and began to answer the questions on the paper pertaining to whether or not the students had successfully completed the Mandrake component of the Animagus project, if they had been given their completed potion at the end of the previous year, what conditions it had been kept under and if they had kept their used Mandrake leaf. Their extra lessons had ceased a month before the end of year exams so she had thought it due to how much additional marking the teachers had. Was this some sort of weird cover to continue the lessons? Why would that even be necessary?
Five minutes later McGonagall collected their papers and passed around copies of a thin book. Harry glanced at Percival who had already opened his, much thicker book, to the first page. Clearly his boyfriend had been given entirely different reading material. The title page read: Tangential Transfigurations Transcending the Times.
"I believe a review is in order. Read quietly, I will let you know when the detention is over."
Harry opened his own book. Human to Animal Transfiguration. There was a handwritten note on the side How to become an Animagi. He flicked through the pages, noting that there were notes in three different hands, leaving behind something of a commentary on the pages.
"Mr Potter, I believe starting at the beginning would be wise."
"Sorry Professor," Harry noticed her slightly misty eyes, and surreptitious nod. His fingers tightened against the cover.
At the end of the hour, she dismissed them, "I would like you to finish the reading before your next class. I warn you there will be a quiz."
"Thank you, professor," the students murmured as they left.
"What was that?!" exploded Terry as they made their way along the corridor.
"Shut up!" snapped Zabini, he pushed the other boy through the open door to an empty classroom and inspected it for wall decorations quickly, only entering once he had assured that the walls were bare. The rest of the group quickly followed. Percival cast several warding spells, which earned him a nod from the Slytherin.
"Would someone care to explain?" Padma asked.
"It's quite simple," Blaise said sharply. "There must have been a reason that the lessons stopped last year. The detention was a cover so we could start again."
"McGonagall doesn't want whoever stopped them knowing that the lessons are starting again," Percival agreed.
"Seems a bit cloak and dagger just for extra lessons," Padma retorted.
"It depends who wanted them stopped," Harry muttered.
"You know something Potter." Terry Boot accused.
"You're all smart, you can figure it out for yourselves. We haven't the time to hang around. It will already seem strange that we were all given detentions, especially you three, let alone if we are all missing for some time afterwards."
"Do you think it will happen for all the lessons?"
Harry shrugged, earning a tap from Percival, he grinned in response, "Not potions, or maybe those will be done as detentions with Snape. I can't see Slughorn doing extra lessons when he already has the Slug Club, can you? And they might be able to swing actual extra lessons for Runes, Arithmancy and Charms, if they can come up with an excuse, like perhaps starting a club."
"So expect detentions for Transfig and Defence," Susan said as if reconciling herself. "Is this something that I should report to my aunt?" she added seriously.
Harry looked to Percival, who tilted his head. They knew that Sirius had been keeping Amelia aware of many things but they weren't sure what she had been told about the goings on at Hogwarts.
"I don't think it would hurt. Perhaps she already knows, after all she did come and arrest Umbridge last year. However I doubt she can do much about the actual running of Hogwarts."
Susan gave a firm nod, "Right."
In ones and twos they left the room, each group heading to their respective common rooms.
-o0o-
Harry and Percival made their way to join Neville and Ron who were sitting on their favourite couch in front of the fire. Katie Bell was sat next to Ron, and they were looking over a piece of parchment. The pair glanced up as Harry melted onto the floor and lazily hooked a foot around the leg of a coffee table, bending his knee he dragged it closer.
"So we'll hold try outs for every position," Katie nodded in agreement to Ron's suggestion.
"Saturday week," Ron said, as Katie stood.
"Right, I'm off. I thought O. were bad, but it looks like N.E. will be worse," she nodded goodbye and then headed over to join her friends at another table.
His cerulean eyes still on the departing Quidditch Captain, Ron jabbed Harry with his foot, "You couldn't have warned me mate?"
"Ah?"
"Assistant Captain? I mean you said you were going to talk to Katie, so I expected that but …"
"Sorry, I meant to tell you. McGonagall was talking about who could take on the captaincy next year given I don't want it and …"
"N.E.W.T.s, prefect and Quidditch Captain, I might explode Harry!"
"Well, I did only suggest that you were good at strategy and that if you didn't want it next year then having someone who already knew what was going on would be helpful for whoever is the replacement. We can keep an eye on the others and give McGonagall a recommendation at the end of the season."
"At least the idea of having a second string was a good one."
"Well, I do have them every now and then," Harry nudged Ron's leg with his shoulder.
"All I'm saying is thank Merlin we have some free time this year. There are whole periods where we can just sit up here and relax."
"We are going to need that time for studying Ron!" they cringed as a shrill voice broke over the group like shards of glass.
"Well not today. I'm up to date, so I'm going to go challenge Dean to a game of chess," Ron said emphatically, rising to his feet.
Hermione frowned as she watched him leave, then turned to look down on Harry, who now had his transfiguration notes out in front of him blatantly ignoring her. Neville was in the space next to him, setting up to start their charms essay.
"Budge over Neville," Hermione commanded, tapping his backside with her foot. "Let me in."
"I'm just about set up and the common room isn't short of space tonight," Neville said bluntly waving a hand vaguely at an empty table on the other side of the room.
"But that one isn't in front of the fire; besides you're only looking at Charms. It's not like they're important," she said dismissively.
"The Patronus is a charm, Granger, it's saved your life before," Harry said in a quiet flat voice. "And I believe Neville asked you to go elsewhere."
"Come on Harry, how much longer do you expect to keep this up?" Hermione said cajolingly. "Can't you see I only want what's best for you? How many subjects did you fail last year, hmm?"
"None, thank you Granger," Harry crossed out a line on his notes, and raised his pen as he considered what he wanted to write next.
"Then it must have been close," she said glibly, "I can help fix that for you. If you would just trust me like you used to," she smiled at him sweetly, slipping her hand behind her back to retrieve her wand from her back pocket and slowly pointing it towards Harry. "Neville can just go over to that table, and then we can study here. Percival …"
Hermione paused as she felt a slight pressure on the side of her neck.
"I would suggest that you put your wand away Miss Granger," Percival's voice was like ice. "We are all aware of the compulsions you placed on Harry on the Express."
"Prove it!" she hissed, breaking her façade.
A Cheshire smile spread across Percival's face, "Oh that evidence is being collected, you see you did not do as good a job of it as you thought."
"Memories aren't admissible in court!"
"Oh, how cute," he whispered in her ear. "You thought legal process would be followed? But Miss Granger this is a school. There is no Wizengamot here. We are all sick and tired of your behaviour, now Neville and Harry have both told you to go away I suggest you comply."
"Harry! Did you … can't you see … what sort of person he is?" Hermione pleaded. "He's threatening me."
"You magically assaulted me on the train which lead to me being physically assaulted by another student. Forgive me if I don't feel very sympathetic towards you right now. Not to mention Percival said you had your wand out ready to spell me again. Go away!"
"Granger!" The seventh-year prefect had approached while the argument had been brewing, "the boys have requested you leave them be. There's no reason for you to keep bothering them."
"But he had his wand at my throat! He …"
"All I saw was you with your wand in your hand pointed at Harry," he said, wilfully ignoring Percival dropping his wand to his side. "Given that you vandalised Harry's notes during exams last year, the evidence is against you."
"Humpf! Well, I'm going to the library! Don't come complaining to me when you fail! You and Ron could never do anything without me. I'm the brightest witch of the age! I'm going …"
"You're going nowhere," the seventh-year snapped. "You're grounded to the common room, and I know you are aware of the fact, because McGonagall told me that the Headmaster has spoken to you about it. Seeing as I can't trust you to leave these guys alone, you can come and sit next to me, where I can keep an eye on you." Taking hold of her elbow he led her away, ignoring her rant.
"You'll see! You'll come crawling back! Who knows maybe I won't be willing to accept your apologies! Just see what happens to you then. You'll never get to be an Auror!"
Harry dropped his head to the table with a thud, so he did not have to watch her be dragged away by the prefect. He rocked his head to one side and opened his eyes to look at his godbrother.
"So how about those Cannon's?"
Neville snorted, "that might work on Ron, but not me."
"I don't know it broke the tension, didn't it? Seriously though, what subjects did you carry through?"
"Herbology ..."
"Of course."
"Professor Sprout let slip that I got the highest mark they'd seen in over a century."
"Well done," Percival congratulated the younger boy.
"What else?"
"Defence- I got an Outstanding in that thanks to you guys," Neville carried on before Harry could protest. "Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Astronomy, Charms and Care of Magical Creatures."
"Not Transfiguration?"
"Nah, I got an Exceeds Expectations but only just and McGonagall was concerned about me coping with the workload. Though she said I can get worksheets and assignments off her to do self-paced study. If I want, I can look at completing it later, maybe get tutoring over the summer. Gran's not happy she wanted me to drop charms, said that it was the soft option, but you know what McGonagall said to that? Apparently, gran failed her Charms O.W.L!" Neville grinned. "Do you think I can still …"
"Become an Animagus?" Percival said in a half tone.
"Of course," Harry said confidently. "If I can then you can! Remember Ron's doing it too, so you guys can work on it together."
"And I'll supervise," Percival said firmly.
-o0o-
The first lesson following lunch the next day was Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry knew it would be difficult to maintain the illusion of animosity he had had with Severus in the much more interactive class. He was not looking forward to the faux animosity, but the longer they could keep both the Headmaster and Riddle from suspecting that the two were close the better.
Hermione had come racing into the hallway a minute before the lesson started, arms laden with books and pushed into the queue of students in front of the door, next to Neville. Harry and Ron turned away from her.
"I finally convinced one of the prefects to take me to the library. I really needed more books! We've got so much homework for Runes," she said anxiously. "A fifteen-inch essay, two translations and I've got to read these (she pointed at the top two books with her nose) by Wednesday!"
"I know Hermione, I was there," Neville said blandly. "It's only two chapters in each of those and fifteen inches is only one piece of parchment. It's not all that much."
"I bet Snape gives us loads," she said resentfully.
The classroom door opened as she spoke and Severus stepped into the corridor, his face framed as ever by two curtains of ebony hair. Silence fell over the line of students immediately.
"Inside," he said.
Harry looked around as they entered. The room was gloomier then usual as the curtains had been drawn over the windows and was lit by candlelight. New pictures adorned the walls, many of them showing people who appeared to be in pain, sporting grisly injuries or strangely contorted body parts. Nobody spoke as they settled down, looking at the shadowy, gruesome pictures.
"I have not asked you to take out your books," said Snape, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind the desk; Hermione hastily dropped her copy of Confronting the Faceless back into her bag and stowed it under her chair. "I wish to speak to you and want your fullest attention."
His black eyes roved over their upturned faces, lingering for a fraction of a second longer on Harry's than anyone else's. There was a minuscule softening at the edge of his eyes that seemed to convey some concern. Harry took a deep breath, obviously this was not going to be an easy lesson.
"You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe."
Stating the obvious, Harry thought with a snort.
"Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L in the subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T work, which will be much more advanced."
Way to keep in character, Sev.
Snape set off around the edge of the classroom, speaking now in a lower voice; the class craned their necks to keep him in view.
"The Dark Arts," said Snape, "are many and varied, ever-changing and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a Hydra, each time a neck is severed, it spouts a new head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."
He had secured the classes attention, using much the same silky voice he had used in that very first potion's lesson. It re-enforced their impression that he coveted the Dark Arts.
"Your defences," said Snape, a little louder, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the Arts you seek to undo. These pictures," he indicated a few of them as he swept past, "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse," (he waved a hand to a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony) "feel the Dementor's Kiss," (a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed slumped against the wall) "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius," (a bloody mass on the ground).
Harry risked a sideways glance at his godbrother, Neville while pale was staring resolutely at Severus. It was a stark contrast to the nervous boy he had been back in fourth year when Barty Crouch Jr had demonstrated the Unforgivables. There were several pale faces, perhaps seeing the results of these curses might prevent some of the Death Eater's children from using them.
Severus set off again around the other side of the classroom towards his desk, and again, the class watched as he walked, his dark robes billowing behind him.
"… you are I believe complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells. What is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?"
Hermione's hand shot into the air. Snape took his time looking around at everybody else, making sure he had no choice. He paused again while looking at Harry, seemingly asking him to volunteer. Harry obliged, slowly raising his hand. "Very well – Potter. Stun us with your eloquence."
"Um, they won't know what spell you are going to cast so …"
"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," said Hermione unable to hold in the answer any longer, "which gives you a split-second advantage."
"Somewhat simplistic Potter, I did not expect any better. Miss Granger's answer, as unwanted as it was, was plagiarised almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6," said Snape dismissively (over in the corner, Malfoy sniggered), "but correct in the essentials," (Hermione puffed out her chest proudly) "Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some," his gaze fell on Harry once more, and there was an apologetic twitch to his lip that most would have interpreted as disdain, though Harry knew better, "lack". The Slytherins in the room snickered.
"You will now divide," Snape went on, "into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."
At least half the class had attended the rec room last year and were at least passingly familiar with the standard Shield Charm, though none of them had cast it without speaking. Percival was of course proficient at it, and Harry, who had started working on it with Professor Flitwick, could maintain a transparent shield, so they split up, with Percival partnering Neville and Harry, Ron.
A reasonable amount of cheating ensued; many people were merely whispering the incantation instead of saying it aloud. Ten minutes in Neville managed to cast a Jelly-Legs jinx, without uttering a word and the spell splashed against Percival's shield. As per his fake persona, Severus ignored the action which in any other class would have earnt them points for Gryffindor. He swept between the pairs as they practiced, eyes lingering to watch Harry and Ron who was struggling with the task.
Ron, who was supposed to jinxing Harry, was purple in the face, his lips tightly compressed to save himself from the temptation of muttering the incantation. Harry had his wand raised, waiting on tenterhooks to repel a jinx that seemed unlikely ever to come.
"Abysmal Weasley, let me show you-"
He turned his wand on Harry so fast that Harry reacted instinctively, all thought of non-verbal spells forgotten he yelled, "Protego!"
His shield charm was so strong Severus was knocked off-balance and hit the desk. The whole class looked round and now watched as Snape righted himself scowling.
"Do you remember me telling you we are practicing non-verbal spells, Potter?"
"Yes," said Harry stiff with concern that he had actually injured Severus.
"Yes sir."
"There's no need to call me 'sir', Professor."
The words escaped him before he knew what he was saying. He stared wide-eyed like a deer in the headlights at Severus, whose face was unreadable. Several people gasped, including Hermione. Behind Severus, however Ron, Dean and Seamus grinned appreciatively while Neville and Percival shook their heads.
"Detention, Saturday night, my office," said Severus. "I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter!"
With an admonishment from the professor the class returned to their practice.
-o0o-
"That was brilliant Harry!" chortled Dean, once they were safely on their way to break a short while later.
"You really should not have said that!" said Hermione frowning at them sternly as she came up behind the boys. "What made you?"
"He tried to jinx me, in case you didn't notice," Harry protested, an arm bent behind his back so she could not see his wand had dropped into his hand. "And in case you haven't been paying attention there has not been a single year here where the Defence professor has not tried to harm me or otherwise 'do me in'. Naturally I get a little defensive when they decide to point their wand at me."
"Harry! Hey Harry!"
Harry looked around; Jack Sloper, one of the Beaters on the previous year's Gryffindor Quidditch team, was hurrying towards him holding out a piece of parchment.
"For you," panted Sloper, he passed a second to Hermione. "Listen, have you heard when they are holding quidditch trials?"
"Saturday week," Ron cut in. "Katie's already booked the pitch. She couldn't get it sooner."
"Oh, right. I was hoping it'd be this weekend-"
Privately Harry thought Sloper would be lucky to get back on the team, puffing as he was from running up one flight of stairs.
"Talk to Katie about adding a fitness component to training," he said to Ron when Roper had departed.
Harry groaned when he saw the thin slanted writing on the parchment. He unrolled it as he followed the others.
Dear Harry,
I would like to start our private lessons this Saturday. Kindly come along to my office at eight p.m. I hope you are enjoying your first days back at school.
Yours sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
P.S I enjoy Acid Pops.
It was a ridiculous note really, anyone finding it would immediately know what the password to the headmaster's office was. As demonstrated a moment later by Ron, who had come back when Harry stopped and read the note over his shoulder.
"He enjoys Acid Pops?! I suppose he could have just come out and told you what the password was."
"I'll have to let …"
"Harry!" Hermione hissed, looking up from her own note. "You have detention on Saturday!"
"Oh really? I hadn't realised Granger, thanks for pointing it out."
"Don't get sarcastic with me, Harry Potter. I'm trying to stop you getting in trouble, again!" she snapped back. "What are you going to do?"
"Not that it is any of your business, but I'll simply let Se … Snape know and re-arrange the detention."
"Oh, he won't like that!"
"Then he can take it up with the headmaster," Harry shrugged. "Odds on he'll just give me an extra detention and I'll just have to live with that. It's not like I can do anything about it."
"I wonder what Dumbledore's going to teach us. I mean I've read about some amazing jinxes and hexes but some of them are illegal, so perhaps he'll teach us advanced Defence instead. Try not to slow down our lessons too much I know it will be difficult for you to keep up Harry, but I promise I'll show you how they're done afterwards. Yes, that'll be best, so that way we can fit the most in."
"Well as fun as this is," Harry was unable to keep the smugness out of his voice, "we're going to the library."
"I'll come with you," Hermione swung around to walk alongside them a bounce in her steps.
"I believe that you are to be in the common room when you aren't at meals or attending class," Percival stated.
"Unless I am with a prefect, and Ron is one. You wouldn't stop me from going to the library, would you Ron?" her voice oozed saccharine as she batted her eyelashes at the red-head.
"It has to be a seventh-year prefect," Ron replied drolly. "I'm not going to risk going against the Wizengamot ruling."
"Oh, come on. You need me in there. Have any of you even been to the library before? You don't know how the filing system works!"
"I think we're done here. Granger just … leave us be!" Neville turned his back and began to walk away.
They had been intending to see if the study and rec room had been left alone over the holidays or if the House Elves had removed everything from them but as Hermione continued to follow them, they had to make their way to the library.
"… it's a ridiculous rule really, and I don't see why I have to follow it. It's blatantly unfair …" Hermione's voice was well in excess of a volume that would be considered polite by the time they reached the door to the bottom level of the library. "What!"
The group, who had already passed through the door to the library, reflexively turned at her screech. She had stopped … or more accurately, had been stopped on the outside of the doorway.
"What is the meaning of this?" she stamped her foot.
The librarian, Madame Pince, descended on the girl her green robes flapping in agitation. "You will cease that caterwauling this instant," she hissed. "This is a library! People are trying to study here!"
"Well I should like to be studying here too, but I can't get in!" Hermione cried out.
"With behaviour like that I'm not surprised!" Pince snapped.
"Hermione was stunned, "But … but I take care of the books, I thought you liked that!"
"You may look after the books well enough while they are within the confines of the library, but you do not adhere to the appropriate borrowing procedures, and don't think I don't know who spilled grey muck on The Most Potente Potions four years ago."
"I did not!"
"You most certainly did!"
"It was Harry!" Hermione pointed her finger at the dark-haired boy who was now quietly unpacking his books from his bag and setting up to study at a set of four desks on the other side of the room.
Madame Pince, ignored the imperiously pointed finger, "The book was obtained on a pass written to you Miss Granger. You borrowed it; you were responsible for it. I am no fool, I am aware which page was soiled! And what it was that you spent a month in the infirmary for!"
Hermine opened her mouth, closed it and took several deep breaths that caused her nostrils to flare, "the fact still remains that I cannot enter the library. What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing!"
"What! But I need more books!"
"And the other students need you to respect their right to work in peace, so you need to head to your common room, before I need to call your Head of House!"
"Argh!" Hermione yelled, trying to push through the doorway with pure force. However, the ward that was in place pushed her back, well into the corridor. With another scream she stomped off up the hallway.
-o0o-
It seemed that unlike Severus Snape, Professor Slughorn would accept students with an Exceeds Expectations on their Potions O.W.L into his N.E. class, therefore both Neville and Ron had been offered places. Under the advice of Professor McGonagall, Neville declined, figuring with the seven classes he was enrolled in and already self-studying transfiguration, there was no need for the added stress. Ron on the hand was happy to accept, keeping his dream of being an Auror alive.
"We've got potions today," Ron whined.
"It's your own fault. You could've turned it down, like Neville did," Harry reached past his friend to grab the tea pot.
"That's not the problem!" Ron waited until Harry had placed the pot back on the table and then thumped him on the arm.
"Ow! What's the problem then?"
"I've got no ingredients, equipment or textbook! The ingredients and equipment, I can get sent from home, but Mum and Dad won't be able to afford a textbook."
Harry frowned for a moment, "I picked up extra ingredients when we were in Diagon that you can have, until you can get your own," he added knowing his mate would not want charity, "You can always borrow a text from the library, or there's the one that we nicked off Granger last year,"
"Did you bring it?"
"Yeah, it's in my trunk, I'm using mum's copy, but I'm not lending you that, she's written some really useful notes up the sides."
"Come on we've got time to go and get it before class."
They ran all the way to the tower and were puffing by the time they made it down to the dungeons.
"Think … we … might … need … fitness … training … too!" Ron wheezed, clutching at his side.
There were only thirteen people progressing to N.E.W.T level potions. Crabbe and Goyle had evidently failed to achieve the required O.W.L grade, but four Slytherins had made it through, including Malfoy. Four Ravenclaws were there and one Hufflepuff, Ernie McMillan, whom Harry liked despite his pompous manner.
"Harry," said Ernie pretentiously, holding out his hand as Harry approached, "didn't get the chance to speak in Defence Against the Dark Arts this morning. Good lesson, I thought, but Shield Charms are old hat of course, for those lads who attended the rec room last year … and how are you Ron … Percival?"
Before they could say any more than 'fine', the dungeons door opened and Slughorn's belly preceded him out of the door. As they filed into the room, his great walrus moustache curved above his beaming mouth and he greeted Harry, Zabini and Hermione with particular enthusiasm.
The dungeon was, most unusually, already full of vapours that wafted over the polished tops of the new benches carrying odd smells to the class. Harry, and Ron sniffed interestedly as they passed large bubbling cauldrons, though Percival wore a frown. The four Slytherins took a table together as did the Ravenclaws. Ernie sat down next to Ron as he continued to quiz them on whether they were planning to open the rec room again, leaving Hermione to sit at a table by herself.
The four boys had chosen a table near a gold-coloured cauldron that was emitting one of the most seductive scents Harry had ever inhaled: somehow reminding him all at once of treacle tart, the woody smell of a broomstick handle and a smoky spiced musk, that he recognised immediately and made his cheeks burn hot. He found that he was breathing very slowly and deeply and that the potion's fumes seemed to be filling him up like a drink. A contentment stole over him; he grinned across at Ron, who grinned lazily back. Percival however was frowning.
"Now then, now then, now then," said Slughorn, whose massive outline was quivering through the many shimmering vapours, "Scales out everyone, and potions kits and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-making …"
"Sir?" said Ron raising his hand.
"Mr Weasley?"
"I've managed to get hold of a book, but I don't have scales or anything else yet, I didn't realise I would be able do the N.E.W.T…"
"Ah yes, Professor McGonagall did mention … not to worry. You can use ingredients from the store cupboard today and I'm sure we can lend you some scales. Just have yours sent from home as soon as you can."
Slughorn strode over to a corner cupboard and after a moment's foraging emerged with a tarnished and slightly dented set of scales.
"Thank you, Professor," Ron set the scales on the desk. "We'll have to see if these notes match your mum's," Ron murmured to Harry as they laid out their books.
"Now then," said Slughorn, returning to the front of the class and inflating his already bulging chest, so that the buttons on his waist coat threatened to burst off. "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E. . You ought to have heard of them, even if you haven't made them yet. Can anyone tell me what this one is?"
He indicated the cauldron nearest the Slytherin table. Harry raised himself slightly in his seat and saw what looked like plain water boiling away inside it.
Hermione's well-practiced hand hit the air a moment after Percival's, Slughorn pointed to the boy.
"It's Vertiaserum. Having neither colour nor smell it forces the drinker to tell the truth."
"Very good, very good," said Slughorn happily. "Now," he continued pointing at the cauldron nearest the Ravenclaw table, "this one here is pretty well known … who can …?"
This time Hermione had competition from Harry, Percival and surprisingly Ron who had also recognised the slow-bubbling, mud-like substance in the second cauldron, from their misadventures in second year.
"It's Polyjuice Potions, sir," said the red-head when he was selected, there was an annoyed huff from the table behind them. "With the addition of a … piece … of another person it allows the drinker to morph into an exact replica of that other person. It is only temporary.
"Excellent, excellent. Now, this one here … yes, my boy?" said Slughorn, bemused by the wrinkling of Harry's nose.
"Is it … it's Amortentia isn't it?" Harry said. Sirius had made sure that Harry could identify it after he had found Hermione brewing it at Grimmauld Place. Knowing that there was a whole cauldron-full within easy reach of students, made Harry feel ill. It was enough to over-come the initial euphoria he had felt at the enticing smell.
"It is indeed. I assume you know what it does?"
"It's a powerful love potion. Though it doesn't really induce love."
"Indeed, it does not. Now could you tell the class how you identified it?"
It appeared Hermione could wait no longer having been overlooked with the naming of the potions she spoke loudly without raising her hand, "It can be identified by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen, and the steam rising in characteristic spirals," she said enthusiastically, beginning to lecture. "It smells differently for each of us, according to what attracts us. I can smell freshly mown grass, new parchment and …"
But she turned lightly pink and did not complete the sentence.
Slughorn chuckled good naturedly, "Yes indeed Miss Granger. I had meant to ask if you could possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"
"I don't know," Hermione babbled, with a small seemingly embarrassed smile. "It is something that I would need to look into. Perhaps that is where I get my talent for potions from."
"Well I am sure that the Goblins can help you investigate that," Slughorn nodded. "At five points an answer I believe that will be a total of twenty points for Gryffindor, well done."
Malfoy looked rather as he had done the time Hermione had punched him in the face.
"Now as Mr Potter was saying, Amortentia does not in fact create love. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate. No this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room- oh yes," he said, nodding gravely at Malfoy and Nott, both of whom were smirking sceptically. "When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love." He paused for dramatic effect. "And now, it is time for us to start work."
"Sir, you haven't told us what that one is," said Ernie McMillan, pointing at a small black cauldron standing on Slughorn's desk. The potion within was splashing about merrily; it was the colour of molten gold, large drops were leaping like goldfish about the surface, though not a single drop had spilled.
"Oho," said Slughorn again. Harry was sure that Slughorn had not forgotten the potion at all but had waited to be asked for dramatic effect. "Yes, That. Well that one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis. I take it," he turned, smiling to look at Hermione, who had let out an audible gasp, "that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger?"
"It's liquid luck," she said reverentially, "It makes you lucky."
The whole class seemed to sit up a little straighter. Now all Harry could see of Malfoy was the back of his sleek blonde head, because he was at last giving Slughorn his full and undivided attention.
"Quite right, take another ten points for Gryffindor. Yes, it's a funny little potion, Felix Felicis," said Slughorn. "Desperately tricky to make and disastrous to get wrong. However, if brewed correctly, as this has been, you will find your endeavours tend to succeed … at least until the effects wear off."
"Why don't people drink it all the time, sir?" said Terry Boot eagerly.
"Because if taken excess, it causes giddiness, recklessness and dangerous overconfidence," said Slughorn. "Too much of a good thing, you know … highly toxic in large quantities. But taken sparingly, and very occasionally …"
"Have you ever taken it, sir?" asked Michael Corner with great interest.
"Twice in my life …"
Harry tuned out Slughorn for a moment and whispered, "Do you think it would have kept my parents safe?"
"Perhaps if they had taken it at exactly the right time. Though I think they would have felt that you surviving the night was the best possible outcome."
"But …"
Percival reached out and took hold of Harry's hand squeezing it in a silent offer of support. "We don't even know if it had been invented then, or if it is so hard to make, maybe there was just none available. And we can't change it now."
"…Two perfect days," Slughorn finished, gazing dreamily into the distance, obviously caught up in his memories. "And that," said Slughorn, apparently coming back to earth. Whether he was play acting or not, the effect was good, such that the whole class was hanging on his every word, "is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson."
There was a silence in which every bubble and gurgle of the surrounding potions seemed magnified tenfold.
"One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis," said Slughorn, taking a miniscule glass bottle with a cork in it out of his pocket and showing it to them all. "Enough for twelve hours' luck. From dawn until dusk, you will be lucky in everything you attempt. Now I must give you warning that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organised competitions … sporting events, for instance, examinations or elections. So the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only … and watch how the most ordinary day becomes extraordinary! So," said Slughorn, suddenly brisk, "how are you to win my fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page ten of Advanced Potion-Making. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be enough time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does it best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!"
There was a scraping as everyone drew their cauldrons towards them, and some loud clunks as people added weights to their scales, but nobody spoke. The concentration within the room was almost tangible. Harry saw Malfoy riffling feverishly through his copy of the text. It could not have been clearer that Malfoy really wanted that lucky day. A glance behind them revealed Hermione frantically setting up her workstation similarly determined. A gently push on his shoulder from Percival had Harry turning back to his own book.
He weighed the book open at the appropriate page and placed it next to Ron's copy. Harry quickly noted the ingredients listed between the notes his mother had left and pulled them out from his ingredient case and dividing them between his place and Ron's, while Ron scurried over to the store cupboard to find everything else he needed. Malfoy was cutting up Valerian root as fast as he could, in complete contrast to Percival who had all of his ingredients laid out and organised, and was chopping with a steady precision, barely even looking at the text.
"Made this before?" Harry asked curiously.
"Mmmm, though it looks like it's been modified, so I'll stick to the version I know."
Everyone kept glancing around at what the rest of the class was doing; this was both an advantage and a disadvantage of Potions, that it was hard to keep your work private. Within ten minutes, the whole place was full of bluish steam. Hermione of course seemed to have progressed the furthest. Her potion already resembling the 'smooth, black-current-coloured liquid' mentioned as the ideal halfway stage. Though a quick glance at Percival's showed that perhaps Hermione's was slightly too dark.
Having finished carefully chopping his roots, Harry bent over his book, Ron's had notes on the next step as well, and Harry was glad that his mother's appeared much more legible and included explanations.
Sopophorus Beans- in combination with the Valerian root is used to add further soporific effect. This potion requires as much juice as possible. Additional juice will ameliorate many minor deficiencies in the potion. If beans are particularly dry, consider adding juice from, a maximum of, two extra beans. Juice is held within small sacs inside the bean and is released more easily by crushing with the flat side of a blade, prior to cutting. Silver no 2 dagger works best.
Harry reached for his dagger …
"Sir I think you know my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy?"
"Yes," said Slughorn, without looking at Malfoy. "I was sorry to hear he had died, although of course it wasn't unexpected, dragon pox at his age …"
… he placed the flat of the blade securely on the bean, placed his palm on it and leaned. Harry could feel the sacs burst; juice began to ooze through the skin.
As Slughorn walked away, Malfoy grimaced, clearly, he had been expecting to be treated like Harry or Zabini, perhaps he had even hoped for some preferential treatment of the type Severus had previously given him.
Surprised at just how much juice the shrivelled-up bean had contained, Harry quickly finished cutting it up, scooped up the pulp and juices and deposited them into his cauldron. The potion immediately turned exactly the shade of lilac described by the textbook.
Ron, who had been squinting at the scrawl in his book, glanced through the knives he had taken from the cupboard with a frown and turned to Harry, "Can I borrow …"
Harry cleaned off the knife and passed it over, with a grin, before turning back to his book. His mum had made careful notes on just how the potion should be stirred to allow all the ingredients to mix properly, so he followed her instructions adding a clockwise stir after every seventh counterclockwise stir.
Harry held his breath as he continued following his mother's directions, a glance at Ron, showed that his notes must have been the same. The potion turned pale pink and lightened further as he continued stirring.
"How are you doing that?" demanded Hermione, who was red-faced and whose hair was growing bushier in the fumes from her cauldron; her potion was still resolutely purple.
Ron and Harry just shrugged. Continuing to stir, their potions were now almost completely clear. Though Harry was pleased to see that Percival's potion was similar and even Ernie's had lightened significantly as he had picked up on the alternate stirring method they were following. Harry felt elated, between them they had produced the three best potions in the room.
"And time's … up!" called Slughorn. "Stop stirring, please!"
Slughorn moved slowly between the tables, peering into cauldrons. He made no comment, but occasionally gave the potions a stir, or a sniff. At last, he reached the table where Ernie, Ron, Harry, and Percival were sitting. He smiled ruefully at the pale bluish colour of Ernie's potion.
"Not a bad attempt … but needs more juice from the sopophorous bean," he smiled, "however this is truly remarkable."
He starred into each of their cauldrons, stirred them. In the end he poured a sample of each potion into a phial and took them up his desk. He held them up to the light, shook them gently, and then shaking his head grinned at the class.
"Never before in all my years, have I had even a single student, produce such good results on a first attempt, but three in one class! I'll have to get Professor Snape to give me some tips on teaching. The closest was the good Professor himself and your own mother Harry! And even theirs were slightly pink. These I believe we will be able to send up to the Hospital wing."
That was when it hit Harry, the notes in his mother's book and the one Ron was using were the same … Ron's book had to have belonged to Severus.
"Now what to do? What to do?" He mused. "I promised one bottle of Felix to the winner. Clearly there are three equally good." He quickly produced a further two of the tiny bottles and carefully decanted a measure of the Felix Felicis into each. "As promised and use it well! Just wait behind for a moment gentlemen."
Harry slipped the delicate bottle into his inner pocket, feeling an odd delight at the furious looks on the Slytherin's faces as they packed up their benches. Hermione tried to linger but Horace Slughorn shooed her from the room and locked the door.
"Now I am sure that you gentlemen can be trusted to decant your potions into vials, while I secure these others?" He wafted his hand at the bubbling cauldrons, waiting for their nods before disappearing into the storeroom. He reappeared a moment later, clearly checking that they had not moved, carrying a crate of empty crystal phials. "Now this is the standard version of the potion so one standard measure per vial please. Then stopper. And place into an empty slot. The box will sort them out so that empty vials appear on the left. Off you go."
All three worked diligently and soon had their cauldrons empty. Harry was pleased to see that Slughorn had not kept the Amortentia at all, simply vanishing it. The rest had been divided up and sent through the floo to the Auror department at the Ministry, except the Felix which Slughorn had floo'ed to the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers.
"Thank you, gentlemen, well done. I can see I am going to have to keep an eye on the three of you," he grinned as he saw them out the door.
-o0o-
Hermione starred at them stony faced as they entered the Common room, made their way to an empty table and began to unpack their books. Percival cast a quick spell to prevent them being overheard. Her anger rose. She needed to stop this immediately, there was no way any of them could have beaten her!
"I'm pretty sure, that your book belonged to Severus," Harry told his best mate, as Ron placed his copy of Advanced Potion-Making on the table and reached back into his bag.
"That would make sense," the red head nodded. "His writing's atrocious though and he wastes a lot of space insulting the original author."
"I prefer mum's notes, at least she explains why she does things differently. And I'll be sure to let him know your thoughts in my detention on Saturday," Harry grinned.
"I don't know that you need to go that far," Ron back-pedalled immediately.
"Did I hear right?" a voice sounded as Ginny joined them, forcing Percival to cancel his spell.
"Depends what you heard and where you heard it Gin," Ron opened his transfiguration text, to begin an essay for McGonagall.
"Hermione," they all glanced over at the girl who was staring at an open book, a righteous expression on her face.
"Go on then, what did she say?"
"You've been taking orders from something someone wrote in a book, Harry?"
"Ah Ginny, you do realise that all our books have instructions written by someone in them, right? Kind of the whole point of textbooks really."
"This isn't funny," she looked alarmed and angry. Harry and Ron knew what was on her mind at once.
"It's nothing," Ron said reassuringly, keeping his voice low. "It's not like Riddle's diary. These are just old textbooks that someone's scribbled in."
"But you're doing what it says?"
"We just tried a few tips written in the margins, honestly, Ginny, there's nothing dangerous about it."
"You ought to take it to someone to check that there is nothing odd about it. I mean all those funny instructions, who knows?"
Harry snorted, "Sure, I know let's take them to Snape to check?"
"It's not funny!" Ginny went to snatch Harry's copy of Advanced Potion-Making away, but he was too fast and grabbed it first and shoved it into his bag. "See you're acting all possessive over it, that's not right Harry."
Harry, took a deep breath, then spoke in clipped tones, "The reason Ginevra, that I am acting all possessive over it, is because that was my mother's book. The notes I followed were in her writing, they have not changed, started a conversation or done anything unusual at all, and they included notes on why those alterations work."
"How do you know! They could be fooling you into thinking that!"
"Ginny, they were in a trunk that contained a whole heap of my mum and dad's old things. I've had just about everything checked over by Flitwick and Snape, as they both knew her. Everything has been verified. It really is just her old textbook."
"Oh, but Hermione said …"
"Ginny, Hermione sat at the table behind us. She's just upset because she didn't do as well today as we did."
"Oh! Sorry."
"Excuse me," a tiny first year tugged on Ron's sleeve.
"Hey, yeah!"
"Can you help? I don't understand what the Professor said about …"
Ron smiled indulgently at the girl, while the others returned to their homework.
-o0o-
Not thirty minutes after the boys had settled in to do their homework and the little first year had been sent on her way, Hermione approached. They had been waiting for it, knowing that she was still not at all happy at how well they had all done in potions. The first thing she did was to try and take Ron's copy of Advanced Potion-Making.
"How did you do it!" she demanded.
"We followed the instructions in the text," Harry shrugged, not even bothering to look at her.
"No, I followed the instructions in the book! You must have cheated! Professor Slughorn said that no-one has ever produced that good a potion before."
"How exactly could we have cheated?"
"How could we have known what potion was being brewed?"
Ron and Harry spoke at the same time.
"Percival didn't even look at his book!" Hermione said as if that were proof of their crimes.
"Well I had some rather excellent tutors at Ilvermorney. Not to mention the potions course there is more extensive than the one on offer here," Percival replied placidly.
"You didn't tell him that you'd done it before!"
"He did not ask."
"If he'd known, you would never have won. You cheated."
"He said that the prize was to go to the best potion, of which there were three, I don't think he would have cared that much," Ron shrugged, cross checking something in the book in front of him and then writing more on his assignment.
"What are you doing?"
"Homework."
"You?" scoffed Hermione. "You don't do your homework until the night before its due! Transfiguration isn't even due until Monday."
Ron shrugged, "I've got too much on to leave it."
"Too much on!" Hermione laughed. "Playing chess you mean."
"Not that it's any of your business but, I have Prefects rounds tomorrow and Saturday. I'm helping Katie with planning for Quidditch try-outs, which just got worse as we're adding a fitness component to trials, thanks for that Harry." Harry grinned and gave Ron a mock salute, to which Ron returned a raised middle finger. "Then there's the assignments we already have for Charms, Defence …"
"That one is going to be a pain," Harry interjected.
"… Against the Dark Arts," Ron gave Harry a mock glare.
"You're doing it all wrong, anyway. Here," she snatched the quill out of Ron's hand. Great globs of ink splattered over his parchment.
"Ruddy hell, I was nearly finished with that!"
"No, you weren't," Hermione said smugly. "Let me show you …"
"No!" Ron said angrily. "I'm prepared to make my own mistakes thanks very much!" He used his longer reach, to snag the quill. "Now bugger off."
"Don't speak to me that way Ronald Weasley!"
There was a long-suffering sigh, before a voice spoke, "Miss Granger, how many times do you need to be told? If you cannot leave the boys alone, I will be forced to confine you to your dorm."
"Argh," Hermione yelled. "Why are you following me? This is harassment!"
"No, I only came over because I was asked to remind you of your appointment tomorrow. The healer will be here at 8am and is expecting to see you as soon as you have finished breakfast. Madame Pomfrey has set a space aside in the Hospital wing. The rest was just fortuitous timing," the seventh-year said drily.
"I'm not going. I don't need to see some bloody shrink, there's nothing wrong with me," she ranted.
"This is part of the judgement handed down by the Wizengamot. If there is nothing wrong then go and prove there is nothing wrong, then it will be all over and done with. For now, I suggest that you head up to your dorm." She herded Hermione away from the boys and out of the common room.
"I thought she'd never leave," Ron banged his head on the table.
"Here," Percival reached for Ron's parchment and siphoned the excess ink off it. "Now you only need to re-write that last paragraph."
"Thanks," Ron happily wrote it out again, thinking it far better than having to transcribe the whole thing.
"I've really had enough you know," Harry said, starring up at the door, through which Hermione had disappeared.
"Well we can't very well stop her."
"Perhaps if she failed an assignment or two, she would stop trying to help us 'fix' our work. I swear, half the stuff she says is wrong."
"It's not like we can control what she puts in her assignments."
"I meant when she used to correct ours. I'm sure she used to deliberately tell us stuff that was wrong. Though I think I've just had a marvellous idea," Harry smirked. It would take a little work and an illusion spell aimed just at Hermione, but if he could pull it off it would be worth it. Perhaps Fred and George could help?
-o0o-
Elise Gudgen, the Gryffindor seventh-year prefect, had been carefully monitoring Miss Hermione Granger. Well to be honest, all of the seventh-year prefects had, but Elise and her male counterpart Drew Southerby, had to carry the brunt of it, sharing the same house as the girl. Hermione had made her way to breakfast and sat with a belligerent frown on her face, glaring at anyone who approached, clearly at odds with the world. When seven forty-five passed and the girl made no attempt to move, Elise groaned and stood from her place at the table, signalling to Drew that she would sort it out. She really would have preferred to finish her cup of tea, but their orders were clear, the girl had to make it to her appointment.
"Come on Miss Granger, it's time to move, or you won't make it to the Hospital wing in time," Elise said in a light friendly tone.
"I'm not going," the bushy-haired girl ground out her jaw clenched tight.
Elise, sighed and slid into the seat next to the sixth-year, "Unfortunately you don't get a choice in the matter. It isn't as big a deal as you're making it out to be, you know. Just one appointment and you're done. Better than the consequences if you don't."
"What consequences?" Hermione asked sharply. "This is just some ridiculous ruling made by a group of old ninnys that don't even know what happened."
"Well given that MACUSA suspended its sanctions, and this was one of the conditions of that, potentially they could take you to St Mungo's and make you an inpatient until they complete the assessment. On the other hand, if you think that they got it wrong, just go and explain what happened to the Healer they've sent, then they will know and can deal with it. Who knows they might support your case."
Hermione thought for a moment. Yes, that was the best option, she had been thinking about it all wrong. This was an opportunity for her side of the story to be heard. She was the saviour of the wizard in world, so the Healer was bound to listen to her.
"All right," Hermione said, she stood slowly thinking about exactly what she needed to tell the healer.
Elise was a little surprised it had been so easy. Hopefully it was a sign the girl was finally getting the message.
-o0o-
"Now Miss Granger, my name is Charlotte Smith. I have a degree in psychology as well as having my Doctorate in Healing," the healer introduced herself. "Firstly, I would like to thank you for being so prompt."
Charlotte had been surprised the girl had even shown up, all the evidence had pointed to a girl who did not believe that she had any issues at all.
"Now I know you might already have an idea of why I am here, but for the moment I want you to put that aside. I want you to think of me as someone you can bring all your problems to, and we'll see if we can't figure out a way to solve them together. I do have to make a report to the Wizengamot, but I don't want you to worry about that for now."
Hermione's eyes lit up, it had been so long since anyone had listened to her, it would almost be a relief to have someone to talk to.
"Well," the girl started. "It all started in the holidays before fifth year …"
-o0o-
Healer Smith sighed and rubbed her eyes, she really had no idea where to start in writing up her report. There were many things that she could not report because it would breech her patient's confidentiality. Some of them bordered on legal limits, at which point she could take them to the DMLE but did not quite cross the line yet. Currently Hermione did not have any plans to harm another wix, all the items she had been given from the Potter estate (which seemed illegal though the girl was unable to divulge how she had obtained them) had mysteriously disappeared, so there was no evidence of the wrongdoing. Then there was the mention of a mysterious mentor, whose name the girl seemed unable to speak. Though Charlotte felt she could make an educated guess as to who it was, again there was no evidence.
The girl was certainly delusional, there was no doubt about that, possibly with some element of psychosis. Though it did not appear to be in the way that was commonly found in a group of children who had the means to make their every fantasy come true. Hermione Granger was delusional about her place in the Wizarding world. She seemed to believe that she had the right to dictate how the world should work on a political level, that the world revolved around her.
When prompted on the events at the Ministry of Magic, the girl had been only too happy to offer a detailed explanation of events. Not that she felt there had been any wrongdoing on her part. In fact, she had said she should be excluded from any repercussions because she had acted for the 'Greater Good'. A term that set off alarm bells for the Healer. When asked to explain, Hermione had stated that certain, small wrongdoings could be forgiven, if they were made for the betterment of the Wizarding World. Certainly, killing Voldemort had been for the benefit of the community and the killing curse she had used had been excused by the ministry, but the girl implied that she should be exempt from punishment forever because of it, and no amount of conversation could convince her otherwise. She also seemed to feel justified in the stunning of the Ambassador's godson. Stating that the boy had deserved it for taking away her friends. Her justification for locking him in a cupboard, was so that he could not interfere, and she felt that MACUSA was being unreasonable in their reaction to the matter.
When questioned about Harry Potter, Hermione had said that he was her friend first and so owed it to her to do as he was told. That he always had before, and since 'that idiot from the States' had arrived that she had lost control over him, and it just was not fair. She knew what was best for him if only he would listen to her.
She was also delusional about her abilities, claiming to be the smartest witch of the age, which was patently untrue. In fact, given the O.W.L results the girl had achieved (as reported by the girl herself in a long rant about how the examiners had clearly marked her down, because she was a Muggleborn), she was probably not even the smartest witch of her age, seriously there was always that one Ravenclaw who got straight Os. How she had been accepted into so many N.E. classes was mystery. There was a protocol for how many classes they recommended a student continued with into N.E. . Ten or more Os and they could take what they wanted, though self-study was needed, if they were keen to take all the subjects. Between eight and ten Os and they could take up to ten subjects but were recommended to self-study at least one. Between six and eight Os no more than eight subjects and anything under, a maximum of seven subjects. The course load for N.E. subjects was so much greater than the O. and they did not want to set anyone up for failure. Additional subjects could always be self-studied in the holidays and assessed at a later time by making an appointment at the Ministry. So why was a girl who received only five Outstandings studying ten subjects?
The other question was, what could be done about the girl's delusions? Ideally a course of medication and perhaps a month long stay in St Mungo's for some intensive therapy … but would it be accepted by the general public?
Smith shook her head, it did not matter, she was here to suggest the best course of action for the girl's health, not to pander to the wizarding public.
-o0o-
"Get inside," the ex-Potion's master hissed, displaying his usual dour countenance.
"Yes, sir," the black-haired boy mumbled as he ducked into the office.
The door was quickly shut and spelled. Harry noticed that there were no paintings on the walls at all.
"What happened to …" he gestured around the room.
"An unfortunate accident involving a group of third year Slytherins and Gryffindors. They had a somewhat robust 'debate' that extended from their class into their detention, and they somehow managed to melt, every frame that was in both rooms," it was said in a flat tone of voice.
"Well," Harry had difficulty not laughing, "that was most un-fortunate."
"It was, wasn't it," Severus allowed himself a small smile.
"So, what am I doing for detention Sev?" Harry asked cheekily.
"I have now been instructed by our illustrious Headmaster to leave the showing of the rest of the memories to him, I believe this is what he wants to do in the lessons with Miss Granger. You will need to take extra precautions, as magic is much more difficult inside the penseive, and with the distraction they will be able to sneak up behind you. Always try to keep them both where you can see them."
"Can you at least tell me what is in each memory beforehand, so I don't spend as much time watching what is going on?"
"That might be wise. Now I do wish to check your Occlumency."
"Barriers or defences?"
"Barriers. Legilimens."
The second word was barely a whisper, so Harry had little time to brace himself for the onslaught. It was different to when Percival had tried, somehow Harry could not manage to keep him out at all, he just slipped straight through. Now though, Harry could feel his mentor, knocking on the outside, it was a gentle testing tap to begin with, then a firmer knock and finally an all-out attack.
"Good," Severus said, taking several deep breaths which showed the effort he had put in. "Here," he passed over a small measure of potion, "for your headache."
"Thanks," Harry rubbed at his forehead.
"Your scar?"
"No, just an ordinary headache, did you have to be so rough?"
"Don't whine! It's unbecoming," Severus said firmly before softening. "I am sorry, but it must be done, next time, I will cast it silently. It may be in class, or in the Great Hall, you need to always be ready. I trust you can make a batch of the headache potion to have on hand?"
"Yes, Sev," Harry sighed. Even though it sounded terrible, he could see the value in the idea, neither Riddle nor Dumbledore was going to give him warning before they tried to enter his mind.
There was a knock at the door. Harry pulled out a piece of parchment and quickly began scribbling lines.
"Severus?" Flitwick stuck his head through the door. "Ah I had hoped I would catch young Harry before you dismissed him."
Severus gave an exaggerated sigh, "I suppose you may as well talk to the boy now; he can complete his detention after. Shall I leave you …"
"No," Flitwick seemed amused by the charade, "I do believe that you will want to be here for this." Flitwick drew up a chair and made himself comfortable. "Come sit," he called to Harry.
"Professor?"
"You remember that last year you approached me with a trunk of your mother's, yes?"
Harry nodded.
"Well, as we discussed I took the charms we decided on to the Charms Master's guild. In combination, with her notes, some of my memories from the time and those orbs …" he reached behind his back with a flourish, drew out a frame and passed it to Harry.
"Lily June Potter, Charms Mistress First Class, awarded posthumously and retroactive to June the first 1980," Harry read in a tight voice.
"That was the date on the page in her journal, that the last of the charms we put forward was written on," Flitwick explained softly.
"T … t … thank you," Harry scrubbed his hand over his eyes.
"No. Harry, thank you. You could have hoarded her work, locked them away in your family Grimoire but those spells, will make a great difference to many people. The Healers think that the 'Nerve healer' may be able to be used on Frank and Alice Longbottom. They believe that the pair may have retreated into their minds to avoid the pain of the cruciatus, but then the nerves became so damaged that they could not find a path out again. Alastor Moody has already volunteered to test the 'Limb regrower' and the 'Curse scar remover'."
Harry winced, "We should probably find of something better to call them."
"Perhaps we should," Flitwick agreed with a chuckle. "That," he nodded to the certificate, "was hand delivered, by one of my colleagues from the guild this afternoon. They had kept me in the dark about it as they listed me as her Master, so it was a lovely surprise and I could not wait to give it to you," Flitwick, groaned a little as he got to his feet. "Now I believe you have detention to be getting on with."
There was silence as the door closed behind the Charms professor.
"Harry?" Severus called softly.
"He … really did it for her?" Harry could not take his eyes off the frame he held.
"Yes," Severus moved to sit beside the boy. "Do you think this is something that you might like to tell the mutt?"
Harry pulled the mirror out of his pocket and said, "Sirius!"
-o0o-
- Cut -
Dumbledore was livid, he did not even know where to begin unpacking the box that had been the last Wizengamot meeting. At least he had attended. It would have been catastrophic to his plans if he had not. He paced around his desk and starred out the window.
They had been going to take his protégée', his star pupil, his successor and incarcerate her in St Mungo's! Not that they sold it as such. No, they had said it was to allow close monitoring and intensive treatment, for improvement of her mental health, but he knew what they really meant. He had put a stop to it of course. Even then the Healer had wanted to call in another expert, a psychiatrist, whatever that was, to help confirm the diagnosis, which she believed to be either histrionic personality disorder or narcissistic personality disorder. He had vetoed that idea too as clearly; they were made up terms. It was lucky that he still held so much sway as it was a close call. He would have to have a word with Sirius about voting against him. He had not been able to prevent the girl from having to have further sessions and monitoring by the mind healer, which she would not be happy about, but it really was the lesser of the options they had tabled. Still, she would have been no use to him at all if she was locked up in St Mungo's, perhaps having this 'therapy' would help improve her relationship with his primary pawn.
Speaking of Harry, he would have to find some way to get him back into line. He had intended to start teaching the pair of them certain spells. Spells that would extend his apprentice, but which could be used later to incriminate the boy. After all the Boy-Who-Lived, should not be using dark spells. Now he was less sure. Perhaps he should just show them the memories and make it a sort of getting to know Voldemort 1-0-1. He could always give Hermione lessons on her own, then there would be no witness to her knowledge of the Dark Arts.
Perhaps it was time to try the Potter Grimoire again. One thing Hermione had done right when she had knocked Harry out that night, was to secure a fresh vial of the boy's blood. Admittedly it was taken without consent, but it still might be useful … oh he also had some of the boy's hair, from the last time he had been in the Hospital wing. Perhaps if he used … now that was a good idea. Surely that would work it was only a book after all.