The Order of the Black Cat

by xWolfx93

During their first year at Hogwarts, Harry befriends Daphne Greengrass and encounters Jingles, a magical cat. Their revelations help Harry see the world isn't just black and white and give him what he always wanted: a family. Together, they form a secret society to better the wizarding world. The OC will be a brotherly figure to Harry, in a good way. No SI. This is a longfic.

43. A new duelling Professor

Chapter 43 – A new duelling Professor

The Hogwarts Express, with its scarlet engine and plumes of steam, chugged steadily through the countryside, carrying its cargo of chattering students back to Hogwarts. Inside one of the compartments, Harry, Hermione, Rigel, and Daphne were engaged in light conversation, while Tracey and Neville chuckled over a game of Exploding Snap. However, the relaxed atmosphere shifted as Rigel stood, his expression turning businesslike.

"Prefects meeting time," he announced, his voice carrying the weight of his new role as Head Boy. "We'll need to discuss patrol shifts and other responsibilities."

With a collective sense of duty, Harry, Hermione, and Daphne gathered their things. Tracey, with her expressive eyes, shot them a playful pout as they left. "Don't take too long; we'll miss your delightful company," she teased, her tone light yet genuine.

Neville, looking slightly relieved at not having the responsibility, wished them luck as they exited, the door sliding shut behind them.

Rigel guided the prefects to a separate compartment, where they settled into their seats, ready for the meeting. As the scenic countryside blurred past the windows, Rigel initiated the discussion with a focus on the essentials. He outlined the patrol shifts, went over some basic rules, and set the general expectations for the year. Hermione, diligent as ever, was jotting down notes. She occasionally chimed in with a question or a suggestion, ensuring that every detail was considered and understood by everyone.

The meeting concluded with a sense of accomplishment; each prefect exited the compartment feeling ready to take on their responsibilities. As Harry, Hermione, Daphne and Rigel rejoined Tracey and Neville, the atmosphere in their compartment was immediately lighter, filled with laughter and the remnants of exploding snap cards scattered on the seat.

Daphne, who had been quiet for most of the journey, suddenly huffed in frustration, her cool demeanour slipping slightly. "I can't believe Draco Malfoy has become a prefect," she groaned, rolling her eyes with a disdainful flick of her blond hair. "Of all the people, I have to do patrols with him. He's insufferable and utterly incompetent at actual leadership."

Tracey, lounging across her seat with an easy grace, chimed in with a smirk. "Well, let's be honest, Daph," she said, her voice light and teasing. "There aren't exactly a wealth of candidates among the boys in our year. It's no surprise Malfoy got it, given his family and all that."

Daphne sighed dramatically, yet there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, appreciating the support and understanding from her friends. "Well, at least I'll have someone sensible to talk to during patrols," she conceded, casting a meaningful glance at Hermione, who offered a sympathetic smile in return.

The conversation then drifted to lighter topics as the train continued its journey, the friends enjoying the last moments of peace before the busy school year ahead. As they neared Hogsmeade station, anticipation for the new term grew, mixing with a sense of nostalgia for the years already passed within the walls of Hogwarts.

As the Hogwarts Express hissed to a stop at Hogsmeade station, the group disembarked amidst a swarm of excited students, their breaths visible in the crisp air. Harry, with his vivid green eyes scanning the surroundings, couldn't help but muse aloud as they approached the waiting carriages. "I wonder if they'll continue Duelling as a subject this year," he said, adjusting his glasses. "Last year's teacher being a Death Eater in disguise and all. Still, I learned a lot from the Impostor-Moody. Having a subject so focused on practical spellcasting was really refreshing."

Rigel nodded in agreement. "It was one of the few classes where I didn't find myself dozing off," he admitted with a smirk. "It'd be a shame to lose it from the curriculum."

Beside them, Hermione pursed her lips thoughtfully, her brow furrowed. "I wouldn't be too saddened if it didn't continue," she confessed, tucking a strand of her bushy hair behind her ear. "It was far too focused on the practical and lacked proper theoretical depth for my liking."

Their conversation continued in a similar vein, a mixture of excitement and speculation, as the carriage pulled them smoothly towards the looming silhouette of Hogwarts Castle. The familiar sight of the grand structure, with its many turrets and spires, elicited a chorus of awe from first years and a comforting sense of return for the older students.

Upon arrival, they disembarked, the conversation turning to lighter topics as they made their way to the Great Hall. The anticipation was palpable; they all knew that if they saw Alastor Moody, the real one this time, sitting at the teachers' table, it would be a clear indication that Duelling would indeed continue.

Pushing open the grand doors to the Great Hall, they stepped inside. Their eyes immediately darted to the long staff table at the far end, searching for the familiar grizzled features of Mad-Eye Moody. Instead, their gaze landed on a completely different, yet equally familiar face. Sirius Black sat there, his dark hair falling into his laughing eyes, right next to Remus Lupin.

For a moment, there was a stunned silence from the group. Then, as Sirius caught sight of them, his grin widened into a huge, ear-to-ear smile. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, thoroughly enjoying the shock on their faces. The corners of his eyes crinkled with mischief and amusement. Could he possibly be their new Duelling Professor? And if so, why hadn't he mentioned a word about it? The questions hung in the air, unspoken but clearly etched on their faces as they made their way to their respective house tables.

Settling into their seats, the group watched as the first years filed into the Great Hall, their faces a mix of nervous excitement and awe. Professor McGonagall, with her usual poise, led the young students towards the front, where the iconic stool and the Sorting Hat awaited.

The sorting commenced, echoing the timeless tradition of Hogwarts. One by one, the students were called, the hat deliberated, and then announced their new house. Cheers and applause followed each declaration as the new students found their places among their housemates.

The routine nature of the ceremony was abruptly disrupted when a small, mousy-haired student stepped forward. "Ellie Briggs," Professor McGonagall announced. The name sounded distinctly Muggle, and the nervous girl's wide-eyed wonder at the enchanted ceiling only confirmed her Muggleborn status.

A hush fell over the Great Hall as the Sorting Hat was placed on her head. It seemed to deliberate longer than usual, murmuring and muttering to itself. Finally, the hat's brim opened wide and it shouted, "Slytherin!" The hall fell silent, the usual uproar of applause replaced by a stunned quiet. It was the first time in at least a century that a Muggleborn was sorted into Slytherin. The sorting hat had historically avoided placing Muggleborns in Slytherin due to the house's reputation for bigotry and the potential for conflict.

Ellie Briggs, with her shoulders hunched and a look of trepidation, navigated her way to the Slytherin table. The usual cacophony of cheers and applause was conspicuously absent, replaced by a heavy, uncertain silence. She took her seat, her eyes darting around as she tried to gauge the reaction of her new housemates.

The uncomfortable silence lingered until Rigel, recognising the need for a leader in this unprecedented moment, stood up and began to clap. His applause was loud and enthusiastic, cutting through the tension like a bold strike of lightning. Daphne, seated beside him, quickly joined in, her claps echoing Rigel's energetic spirit. Then Tracey, never one to shy away from standing out, added her applause to the mix.

Like a wave breaking the shore, the rest of the Slytherin table, and then gradually the entire Great Hall, began to clap. What started as a slow wave of hesitant claps grew into a steady cascade of cheers and applause. The students, led by the example of their peers, recognised the significance of the moment and chose to welcome Ellie Briggs into the fold.

Ellie's face, initially a mask of uncertainty and fear, softened into relief and then tentative happiness as the applause grew louder and more assured. The Great Hall, usually abuzz with chatter and excitement, had been unusually subdued, but now the energy shifted, transformed by a collective decision to embrace change and unity.

The moment was historical, not just for Ellie or Slytherin, but for Hogwarts as a whole. It was a testament to the evolving nature of the wizarding world, a sign that perhaps the tides were indeed changing, even within the ancient, stone walls of Hogwarts. The whispers and furtive glances were now replaced with nods of approval and genuine smiles. As the sorting continued, the usual buzz of excitement returned, but the atmosphere was undeniably altered, charged with a new sense of possibility and hope.

~~~o~~~

The final first year was sorted, and as the chatter and excitement died down, all eyes turned towards the head table. Albus Dumbledore rose from his seat, the Great Hall falling into a respectful hush. His half-moon spectacles glinted in the candlelight as his eyes swept over the students, a twinkle of warmth and wisdom ever-present.

"My dear students," Dumbledore began, his voice both comforting and commanding attention, "welcome to another year at Hogwarts." He paused, smiling gently as a wave of attentive silence washed over the hall. "As many of you are aware, we live in challenging times. It is with a heavy heart that I must acknowledge the return of Lord Voldemort. This is not a matter of hearsay, but a grim reality we all must face together."

The hall remained eerily quiet, the gravity of his words settling like a weight upon every shoulder. "I implore each and every one of you to remain vigilant. The dangers we face are not confined to the walls of our castle; they lurk outside, growing in strength and malice. However, do not let fear overcome you. We are strongest when we are united — when we stand together, supporting and protecting one another."

Dumbledore's gaze was firm yet filled with an unmistakable kindness. "This year, more than ever, it is essential that we foster a community of cooperation and understanding. Reach out to your fellow students, be they in your house or another. Our combined strength is our greatest asset."

The mood was sombre as he transitioned to a lighter note, introducing the new Duelling Professor. "As many of you know, Professor Moody has decided to retire after last year's... unforeseen events," Dumbledore said, his eyes briefly clouding with regret. "However, I am pleased to announce that taking his place will be someone many of you know quite well — Sirius Black."

The Hall erupted in murmurs and gasps, the earlier silence shattered. Sirius, sitting between Remus Lupin and Professor McGonagall, wore an impish grin, thoroughly enjoying the reaction. Dumbledore's words concluded with a clap of his hands, and the welcoming feast began, the tables magically filling with food.

As the feast drew to a close, Rigel caught Harry's eye and nodded subtly towards Sirius. Understanding immediately, Rigel, Daphne, and Tracey stood, making their way towards the teachers' table. Harry quickly relayed the plan to Hermione and Neville, and they too rose from their seats, joining the trio.

Reaching the table, they stood before Sirius, who was still wearing his amused grin. Without preamble, they began to question him, their voices a mixture of excitement and mock indignation.

"Why didn't you tell us anything, Dad?" Rigel asked, his tone playful yet curious.

Sirius just laughed, the sound rich and warm. "Oh, the look on your faces was exactly what I was hoping for," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I should've had Harry's camera with me — your expressions were truly priceless."

Remus, sitting beside him, chuckled along, his eyes crinkling in amusement at the scene. "I must admit, it was quite the sight," he agreed, his voice tinged with laughter.

Professor McGonagall, on Sirius's other side, gave him a stern look, but the corners of her mouth twitched in a barely suppressed smile. "Really, Sirius, you ought to have informed them rather than springing such a surprise," she chided, though her tone was more affectionate than scolding.

At this juncture, Snape interjected with his characteristic dryness. "Did you expect something else from the manchild?" His voice dripped with disdain, barely concealing his contempt.

Sirius, ever the quick wit, shot back with a sly grin, "Oh, Severus, always the ray of sunshine. I'm just trying to lighten the mood in your gloomy world."

Before the banter could escalate, Professor McGonagall intervened with a sharp edge to her voice, "Enough! Both of you are professors and should behave as such, especially in front of the students." Her reprimand was stern and unequivocal, leaving no room for further argument. Snape and Sirius exchanged a final, charged glance but remained silent.

The group laughed off the moment, the tension dissipating into the familiar camaraderie and warmth that surrounded the presence of Sirius and Remus. They engaged in brief, light-hearted conversation, gently ribbing Sirius a bit more before the Headmaster rose once again, signalling the end of the feast and the beginning of a new term at Hogwarts.

Sirius, still beaming with amusement, glanced over at the group of first years beginning to cluster around their respective house prefects. "Aren't most of you prefects?" he asked, his tone light but firm. "Go on, take care of the first years now. I'll see you in class at the very latest."

Nodding in agreement, Hermione and Harry made their way over to the forming group of Gryffindor first years, while Rigel and Daphne joined Draco, who was already rounding up the Slytherin newcomers. Rigel, with his usual friendly demeanour, greeted Draco with an overly familiar, "Hello, cousin!" His tone was teasing, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Daphne, on the other hand, offered Draco a cool nod, her expression unreadable. Together, they turned to the first years, Daphne's cool gaze swept over the cluster of first years as she stepped forward. "Good evening," she began, her voice calm and composed. "I'm Daphne Greengrass, your fifth-year prefect. It's my responsibility to help guide and support you during your time here."

Beside her, Rigel's demeanour was more relaxed, a friendly smile playing on his lips. "And I'm Rigel Black, your Head Boy," he announced, his tone warm and welcoming. "Don't hesitate to come to me, Daphne or Draco with any concerns or questions you might have. Hogwarts might seem vast and intimidating at first, but you'll soon find your way."

As they began their descent into the dungeons, Daphne took the lead, her voice echoing slightly off the stone walls. "Now, listen closely," she instructed. "The dungeons can be a bit of a labyrinth if you're not familiar with them. The most important thing to remember is the landmarks. Notice the tapestries, the statues, and the particular turns. They'll help guide you back if you find yourself turned around."

She pointed to a distinctive gargoyle halfway down a corridor. "That one always sneers when you pass by — hard to forget," she added with a slight smirk.

Upon reaching a small room with a serpent statue against the wall, Daphne stepped forward. "This is the entrance to the Slytherin common room," she explained. "The password is 'Verdant Whisper.' It's imperative you remember it, but don't worry, it will change regularly for security reasons."

The first years watched in fascination as the serpent coiled up, revealing the doorway. "The new password will be posted on the noticeboard inside, and if you ever forget it, you can ask any of the prefects," Daphne continued, stepping aside to allow the students to enter. "Welcome to your new home. Respect it, and respect each other, and you'll find your time here to be most rewarding."

The first years filed in, their eyes wide with a mixture of apprehension and awe. Rigel and Daphne shared a brief, knowing look, a silent agreement of their shared duty to these young lives now under their care. As the last of the students disappeared into the common room, they followed, ready to continue their role as guides and guardians for the new generation of Slytherins.

The other Slytherins, having settled in, turned their attention to Rigel, who stood with an air of authority and purpose. He cleared his throat, and the room hushed, every eye fixed on him.

"Slytherin House," he began, his voice carrying clearly, "is for those who aspire to be someone. It's for those who can harness their ambition and cunning to achieve their goals. I believe we should be judged by our own merit, our strengths, our accomplishments. This is a vision I hold not just for our house, but for the wizarding world at large."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "Hogwarts itself is evolving. The houses are becoming more united, which is crucial, given the times we're in. I encourage you all to continue building relationships outside of Slytherin. It's our unity that will make us strong."

Rigel's gaze swept over the crowd, his expression earnest. "This is my final year, and as your Head Boy, I'm committed to breaking down the barriers between houses even further. By the time of this year's Yule Ball, I hope it will be normal to have dates from different houses. And who knows?" He chuckled, a spark of mischief in his eyes. "Maybe I'll organise another party — an official one. No promises, though."

With a firm nod, Rigel concluded his speech, "I wish you all a good night and a successful year. Let's make it one to remember." As he finished, the common room burst into applause. The air was charged with a mix of excitement and approval, the sound echoing off the stone walls. Most students clapped enthusiastically, their faces alight with a sense of unity and anticipation for the year ahead.

However, amidst the sea of approving faces, there were a few, like Draco Malfoy, who clearly did not share the same sentiment. Draco's applause was perfunctory at best, his hands barely meeting in a tepid clap. His expression was one of thinly veiled disdain, a stark contrast to the general atmosphere of camaraderie. His eyes, cold and calculating, swept over the room, lingering on Rigel with a look that spoke volumes of his disapproval and scepticism towards the changes Rigel advocated.

Yet, despite the undercurrents of dissent from Draco and a few others, the majority's enthusiasm seemed to overshadow any negativity.

As the clapping died down, Daphne and Draco began herding the first years toward their dormitories. Rigel, however, lingered behind, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Ellie Briggs. "Ellie, could you stay behind for a moment?" he called out.

Ellie, looking somewhat shy but curious, approached him. Once the room had cleared and they were alone, Rigel turned to her, his expression softening.

"I imagine you're quite curious about why your reception after the sorting was so different from the others'," he said gently.

Ellie nodded, her eyes wide and earnest. "Yes, I am," she admitted. "At first, I was scared and even a bit sad. But then, when everyone started clapping... I was happy. It felt like I was really welcomed."

Rigel regarded Ellie with a gentle, understanding gaze. "It's a momentous occasion that you've been sorted into Slytherin," he began, his voice soft yet clear. "It's been over a century since a Muggleborn — someone with non-magical parents," he added for clarification, "has been sorted into our house. Unfortunately, until recently, Slytherin was known for its bigotry. Some thought they were superior simply because of their birth — their blood status, as our society calls it."

Ellie nodded slowly, absorbing his words. "The hat mentioned something similar," she said quietly. "But it thought it would be safe now, and said that I truly belong here."

Rigel smiled, a genuine, warm smile that lit up his eyes. "Exactly," he echoed. "The hat believes it's safe now. I've been working hard to eradicate that bigotry from our house. So, if anyone, even prefects like Malfoy, looks down upon you or is mean to you based on your blood status, you must contact me or Daphne immediately." He paused, ensuring she understood the gravity of his words. "We have a suite not too far from the common room. Just tell the portrait of the hooded wizard that it's urgent, and he'll alert us."

"I will," Ellie promised, her voice steadier now. "Thank you, Rigel."

"It's time for you to head to bed," Rigel said, standing up. "I'll show you to your room."

Together, they walked through the common room and down a corridor where seven other corridors branched off. "Each year has a separate corridor," Rigel explained as they turned down the first-year passageway. "The girls' rooms are at the front, and the boys' rooms are at the back."

He scanned the doors until he found one with a sign reading "Ellie Briggs." Pointing to it, he said, "This is your room. Your trunk should already be inside. Make sure to lock the room when you leave it." He offered her a reassuring smile. "Good night, Ellie."

"Good night, Rigel, and thank you again," Ellie said, her voice filled with gratitude. She watched him turn and leave, feeling a bit more at ease in this strange new world.

Rigel walked back through the common room, his thoughts on the future and the changes he hoped to bring about. As he made his way towards his suite, he felt a sense of accomplishment, knowing he was making a difference, one student at a time.

~~~o~~~

As Harry and Hermione finished showing the first years around and sent them off to bed in their respective dormitories, they found themselves alone by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. The rest of the students were in their dorms, unpacking and settling in. The common room was quiet, the only sound was the crackling of the fire.

Hermione shifted in her seat, her expression serious. "Harry, there's something I need to tell you."

Harry turned to her, his expression open and attentive. "Go ahead, Hermione. I'm all ears."

Hermione hesitated for a moment before continuing. "It's about how you've been handling all the political business so far. I'm by no means an expert, but I think you should start looking to be a bit more independent, sooner rather than later."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, a look of confusion crossing his face. "What do you mean, Hermione?" he asked, his tone tinged with curiosity and a hint of concern. "Elaborate, please. How should I be more independent?"

Hermione took a deep breath, her gaze steady. "Well, Harry, think about it. So far, you've let all the significant decisions be made by either Rigel, Daphne, or Sirius. They're wonderful and they care about you, but they aren't you. They don't know exactly what you want or need. I'm not saying they have bad intentions, far from it. But Harry, you need to start having a say in your own life, especially with the political ties you have."

Harry's look of confusion slowly morphed into one of contemplation. "But they've always had my back, Hermione. They know so much more about all this than I do."

Hermione nodded, understanding his point but not backing down. "Yes, they have, and yes, they do. But that doesn't mean you can't learn and start forming your own opinions and making your own decisions. They won't hate you for having a different opinion. In fact, I think they'd respect you more for it."

Harry was silent for a moment, his gaze dropping to the flickering flames. He realised she was right; he hadn't made any real decisions in the political world on his own. He always felt overwhelmed and relieved when Rigel, Daphne, or occasionally Sirius stepped in with a solution. He confessed as much to Hermione.

"But I don't want anything to do with all that political mumbo jumbo," he said. "I'm more than happy to let Rigel and Daphne handle it."

Hermione sighed, her gaze fixed on the fire. "There might come a time when their interests don't align with yours, Harry. Remember when they decided to study the dark arts? That didn't sit well with you, did it? You need to be prepared to stand up for your own beliefs."

The room was silent except for the crackling of the logs. Hermione stood up, her expression soft but serious. "It's getting late. We should head to bed too. But please, Harry, think this through. Rigel and Daphne are great people, but you need to be your own person."

With that, she wished him a good night and disappeared into the fifth-year girls' dormitory. Harry sat alone for a while longer, staring into the flames, Hermione's words echoing in his mind. She was right; he needed to start thinking for himself, even if the thought was daunting. As the fire slowly died down, he made his way to his dormitory, her advice weighing heavily on his heart.

~~~o~~~

The next morning, Rigel and Daphne were jolted awake by a knock on their bedroom door, followed by Tracey's unmistakable, cheerful voice. "Daphne, I need you! It's super important!"

Daphne, still half asleep, shouted back through the door, her voice muffled by the pillow. "Give us a moment to get dressed!"

Rigel and Daphne quickly threw on some clothes, the haste of their movements indicating they had been quite undressed. Opening the door, they found Tracey perched on the sofa in their sitting room, an impish grin on her face.

With wiggling eyebrows, Tracey asked, "Did I interrupt your morning gymnastics?"

Daphne, unfazed, retorted with a smirk, "We prefer our... exercises in the evening, Tracey. Trust me, you'd have heard if we were 'going at it.'"

Tracey turned to Rigel with mock shock, her eyes wide. "My, my, Rigel, you are that good, are you?" she teased.

Rigel only offered a sly smirk in return, his response a silent confirmation of sorts. "I'll get ready for the day and leave you two to it." He then disappeared into the bathroom, leaving the girls to their conversation.

Tracey's eyes were serious, a rare occurrence that immediately caught Daphne's attention. "Daph, I need your help, and it's urgent," she implored, perching on the edge of the sofa.

Daphne, now fully alert, leaned forward. "What's going on, Tracey? You sound serious."

"It's Hermione," Tracey began, her hands gesturing emphatically. "She's brilliant and wonderful, but she's way too shy for her own good. She needs a boyfriend, someone to bring her out of her shell. I want to set her up for the Hogsmeade weekends, but I'm at a loss for who would be a good match."

Daphne, her brow furrowed in concentration, suggested, "What about Neville? He's kind, and they're both in Gryffindor."

Tracey shook her head, her curls bouncing. "No, Daphne, that won't do. Hermione needs someone to draw her out, not someone who's just as reserved. Neville's sweet, but he's shy too. He might need someone with a bit more... zest. But I can't play matchmaker for everyone at once."

Daphne tapped her finger against her lip, her mind working through the possibilities. "Well," she said slowly, "Hermione did have quite the time with Viktor Krum last year. A bit of a hunk, wasn't he? And a Quidditch player to boot. Not the sharpest wand in the box, but they got along well. Maybe that's the type you should be looking for — a Quidditch player."

Tracey's face lit up, her previous worry replaced with excitement. "That's brilliant, Daphne! A hunky Quidditch player to fill the Viktor-shaped hole in her life." She leaped up, her energy infectious. "You're a genius, Daph! Hermione needs someone exciting, someone to sweep her off her feet!"

She wrapped Daphne in a tight, impulsive hug, her laughter filling the room. "I can't wait to get started on this. Hermione won't know what hit her!"

With a renewed sense of purpose, Tracey dashed towards the door. "I've got research to do and notes to take," she announced, her voice trailing off as she sped out of the room. "See you at breakfast, Daph!" she called over her shoulder before disappearing out of the suite.

Daphne couldn't help but chuckle at the whirlwind of energy her best friend became when she set her mind to something. Shaking her head fondly, Daphne made her way to the bathroom to join Rigel in his morning routine.

As she entered, Rigel greeted her with a warm, knowing smile. They stood side by side at the sink, brushing their teeth in companionable silence. Through their bond, Daphne relayed the entire conversation with Tracey, the images and emotions flowing seamlessly between them.

Rigel's eyes twinkled with amusement as he received the information, a muffled chuckle escaping him even as he continued brushing. The thought of Tracey charging ahead with her matchmaking plans, with all the subtlety of a Bludger in a Quidditch match, amused him greatly.

~~~o~~~

A few days later, the excitement in the air was palpable as the students filed into the great hall for their first lesson with Sirius. They were all eager to see how he would approach the subject.

Sirius stood at the front of the room, his demeanour confident yet approachable. "Like Impostor-Moody before me," he began, "this subject will be mostly practical. I'll be in constant conversation with Professor Lupin to ensure I know what spells you're capable of." He paced in front of the class, his eyes scanning the room. "However, unlike my predecessor, you won't have a consistent partner throughout most of the year. Instead, you'll be changing partners multiple times each class. Today we'll do some revision of last year's work in 1v1 pairs, and then, until at least the winter break, we'll focus on 2v2 combat, with both allies and opponents changing regularly."

He paused, letting the information sink in. "On a larger battlefield, it's very likely you'll have to fight side by side with someone you don't know well, or at all. It's crucial you learn to adapt your fighting style not only to your enemies but also to your allies. Hence the constant swapping."

Sirius looked around the room. "Any questions?" After a moment of silence, he continued, "I'd like some volunteers to recap last year's lessons."

Harry, Hermione, and Daphne were among the few who raised their hands. Sirius, however, shook his head slightly. "I have the notes from both Impostor-Moody and Professor Lupin, so I know who's performing well and who's not. I have no doubt that the three of you could provide a comprehensive summary, but I'd much rather hear from someone else." He added with a chuckle, "I don't bite, so come on."

After another brief pause, Terry Boot tentatively raised his hand. "Ah, Mr. Boot, thank you," Sirius called, gesturing him forward. Terry then gave an accurate and succinct recollection of the lessons from the previous year, impressing many of his classmates.

As Terry spoke, Harry found himself wondering why the Ravenclaw hadn't volunteered sooner. But then it hit him — Sirius's reputation preceded him. To many, he was still the convicted Death Eater who had miraculously escaped from Azkaban, and to others, his last name alone was enough to conjure images of dark wizards. Despite his proven innocence and his efforts to change perceptions, the shadow of his past loomed large in the minds of many. Harry glanced around the room, noting the mixed expressions of curiosity, apprehension, and, in a few cases, outright fear. It was clear that for Sirius, winning the trust and respect of the class would be a battle in its own right.

"Alright, who's up next for a practical demonstration?" Sirius called out to the class, his eyes twinkling with mirth. Once more, Harry, Hermione, and Daphne raised their hands, eager to participate. With a hearty chuckle, Sirius waved them off. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but let's give others a chance, shall we? You three can rest your arms."

After some hesitant murmuring, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott volunteered and stepped forward. They demonstrated the spells and techniques they had learned the previous year with surprising proficiency. Harry watched, impressed by their skill. Sirius's demeanour remained cheerfully encouraging as he awarded them five points for their performance. Harry couldn't help but notice that Sirius seemed well aware of the need to build a positive rapport with the students.

"Now, let's move on to our first 2v2 battles of the day," Sirius announced. With a flick of his wand, a number appeared above each student's head. "Each number appears twice. Find your partner with the same number. I'll then randomly call two numbers, and those will be the first pairs to duel."

Harry glanced around the room, his number 7 floating above his head. He searched for his partner and his heart sank slightly when he finally spotted Susan Bones. Their past relationship had left them on less than friendly terms. She scoffed upon seeing him and turned away, clearly uninterested in any sort of reconciliation.

Sirius called out the first pairings — numbers 3 and 10. To everyone's surprise, the Patil twins were paired together, while Hermione was paired with Lavender Brown. Harry watched as they took their positions. The Patils, with their innate sibling synergy, were a formidable team. In contrast, Hermione and Lavender, with their different personalities and styles, seemed less coordinated.

The duel commenced, and it played out much as Harry had anticipated. The Patil twins worked together seamlessly, while Hermione struggled to compensate for Lavender's lack of tactical coordination. Despite this, Hermione's training was evident; she held her ground admirably, but the coordinated assault from the twins eventually overcame her defences, and Lavender was quickly outmatched.

After the duel, Sirius approached each team, his demeanour friendly as he offered insightful tips. He showed Hermione and Lavender how to recognise each other's fighting styles and adapt their strategies for better synergy in the future.

As Harry watched Sirius interact with the students, he noticed a subtle shift in the room. While many still held reservations, the outright fear that had initially clouded their perception of Sirius seemed to have dissipated. His approachable manner and genuine guidance were slowly winning them over.

"Next up, numbers 1 and 7," Sirius announced, his voice echoing through the room. Harry felt a lump form in his throat. Team 7 was him and Susan, and Team 1 consisted of Terry Boot and Draco Malfoy. The prospect of facing Malfoy, with whom he shared a history of animosity, was daunting enough, but the added tension of partnering with Susan, who wouldn't even speak to him, made the situation seem almost insurmountable.

As he stepped forward, Harry felt a surge of anger at the thought of Malfoy, remembering his father's involvement in the events at the graveyard. He took a deep breath, utilising his Occlumency skills to suppress the bubbling rage and focus on the task at hand.

As Sirius counted down, Harry turned to Susan, hoping to quickly establish a plan. "Susan, I'll take the offence, you cover defence," he suggested hurriedly, trying to keep his voice calm and cooperative.

Her response was immediate and sharp, not even sparing him a glance. "Shut up," Susan snapped, her eyes fixed on their opponents as she charged forward, her wand already casting aggressive spells.

Harry clenched his jaw, struggling to maintain his composure. With Susan recklessly attacking, he had no choice but to adapt and cover the defensive front, despite his preference for offence. He watched as Susan, driven by her fury, left herself exposed to attacks. He saw several openings, particularly against Boot, but he hesitated, knowing that exploiting them would leave Susan vulnerable.

As the duel progressed, Harry noticed Terry Boot leaving his flank exposed after certain spells. Seeing an opportunity for coordination, he whispered urgently to Susan, "Boot's weak on his left after casting — aim there!"

Susan, in the midst of casting a spell, shot back without missing a beat, "I told you to shut up, Potter! I don't need your help!" Her spell flew, powerful but uncoordinated with Harry's actions.

Feeling a surge of frustration, Harry called back, "We're on the same team, Susan! We need to work together!" But his words fell on deaf ears as she continued her assault, independent and furious.

The anger he'd been keeping at bay began to boil over. As he saw another opening against Boot, his focus narrowed. "Fine, have it your way!" Harry muttered under his breath, momentarily abandoning his defensive stance to send a powerful spell straight at Boot.

In that split second, the dynamic of the duel shifted, his spell hitting Boot squarely and taking him out, but also leaving Susan open to Malfoy's counterattack. As she was sent flying, Harry realised the cost of their lack of cooperation and felt a rush of regret mixed with the lingering heat of his anger.

With Susan out of the ring, the duel shifted to a fierce 1v1 between Harry and Malfoy. As their spells clashed, Harry recognised the style of Lucius in Draco's movements — the same style he and Rigel had overcome in the graveyard. That memory fuelled Harry's confidence; if he could take down Lucius with Rigel, he could certainly handle Draco alone.

However, Harry's mind was a storm of conflicting emotions about Susan. Anger, regret, and the desire to quickly end the duel clouded his judgement. As his focus wavered, Malfoy began pushing him back, his spells becoming more aggressive and accurate. The voice in the back of Harry's head grew louder, urging him to use his fire affinity or, worse, the Cruciatus curse for payback against what Lucius had done to Rigel.

But at the critical moment, Harry caught himself teetering on the edge of those dark thoughts. He forcefully pushed away the insidious whispers, reminding himself that this was a training duel and that he would not resort to such lows or illegal tactics.

Realising something was deeply wrong — it wasn't like him to even consider such actions — Harry abandoned his defensive approach and shifted to an all-out offensive, hoping to overwhelm Malfoy quickly. To his surprise and relief, it worked. With a well-aimed spell, he knocked Malfoy out of the ring.

The cheers from his classmates felt distant to Harry. Deep down, he was shaken by the voice in his head and his near-slip into using unforgivable spells. He resolved to talk to someone about it later, using his Occlumency to clear his mind and calm his raging emotions.

Sirius approached, having just given pointers to Boot and Malfoy. "You may have won the battle," he said, "but your teamwork was abysmal. I know there's history here, but in a real battle, you'll need to look past such things, or it might cost you your life."

Susan scoffed, clearly not in the mood to listen, while Harry managed a weak, "I tried." The lesson continued with more pairs duelling, but Harry's attention was elsewhere. His mind lingered on the duel, the surge of anger, and the frightening ease with which he'd almost succumbed to using dark magic. It was a warning he couldn't ignore, a sign that he needed to understand and control his emotions better, especially in the heat of battle.

~~~o~~~

Later that evening, the group gathered in the Room of Requirement, a space that always seemed to understand and provide for their needs. The atmosphere was subdued, a stark contrast to their usual light-hearted gatherings. Hermione, ever perceptive, turned to Harry with a concerned look.

"Harry, is something up?" she asked gently. "You've been very quiet since the duelling lesson."

Taking a deep breath, Harry shared his troubling experience — the small, insidious voice that had urged him on during his duel with Malfoy. Tracey's eyes widened with shock. "That doesn't sound like you at all, Harry," she exclaimed, her voice filled with worry.

Daphne, however, had a more analytical response. "It sounds like you need to work on your Occlumency, especially during combat," she mused. "We all have darkness and light within us. It's how we choose to act that defines us. You were probably so angry at Susan and so affected by facing Malfoy that you couldn't think straight."

"But what if there's something fundamentally wrong with me?" Harry interjected, the fear evident in his voice.

Daphne reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his. "That's unlikely, Harry," she said softly. "But we'll work on your Occlumency together over the next few days. If you can control your emotions even during a fight and this happens again, then we can consider other possibilities. Negative emotions like anger can bring out the worst in us. It doesn't mean there's something wrong with you."

Harry looked into Daphne's eyes, finding a sense of calm and logic in her words. He nodded, a small smile of gratitude forming. "Thank you, Daphne. I appreciate your help."

With the heavy conversation out of the way, the group shifted focus to something lighter — Sirius's performance as a teacher. Rigel, with a hint of pride in his voice, led the discussion. "I saw Daphne's memories, and I think he's doing a great job, don't you? He's really engaging with the students, and his advice is spot on."

The group chimed in with their own observations and experiences from the lesson, the mood gradually lightening. As they discussed the intricacies of duelling and their hopes for future lessons, Harry felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Surrounded by friends who cared and supported him, he felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

~~~o~~~

After a couple of days dedicated to intensive Occlumency training with Daphne, Harry found his ability to clear his mind even during combat significantly improved. Though he hadn't faced an opponent who stirred his emotions as intensely as Susan and Draco had, he felt a newfound confidence in his control over his feelings. Deep down, he started to believe that Daphne was right — there was nothing inherently wrong with him.

Weeks passed, and the routines of Hogwarts life continued. Then, Hermione's birthday arrived. The group gathered to celebrate, each presenting her with books on various subjects they knew she'd find fascinating. Hermione's eyes sparkled with delight as she unwrapped each one, her love for knowledge apparent in her excited chatter about each title.

Amidst the celebration, Tracey stepped forward with a twinkle in her eye. "Next weekend is a Hogsmeade weekend," she announced, "and I've got something very special planned for you, Hermione. Don't think of it as a birthday gift, though. If this doesn't work out, there's more to come." She concluded with a mischievous giggle, leaving Hermione looking both intrigued and slightly apprehensive.

"What have you planned, Tracey?" Hermione asked, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

Tracey just winked and tapped her nose. "You'll see, Hermione. Trust me, it's going to be brilliant."

~~~o~~~

The Hogsmeade weekend finally arrived, and the group piled into a carriage together, the air buzzing with excitement and anticipation. It was then that Tracey decided to reveal her well-guarded plan to the group, particularly to Hermione.

"So, Hermione," Tracey began with a sly grin, "I've decided it's high time you get a boyfriend, and I've taken it upon myself to make that my mission for this year. And for today, I've set you up on a date with someone at Madam Puddifoot's."

Hermione chuckled nervously, a slight blush colouring her cheeks. "With whom?" she asked, her curiosity piqued despite her apprehension.

Tracey waved her hand dismissively. "You'll see when you get there, but let me give you a few hints." She leaned forward, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "We all know you got along well with Viktor Krum, so I tried to find you a new Viktor. He's a Quidditch player, older than you, with a decent physique. Not the best, not the worst. Unlike Viktor, he does like to talk, mostly about himself, but he's very extroverted and confident — exactly what you need, in my opinion."

Hermione's face was a mix of amusement and puzzlement as she processed Tracey's words. "I think I forgot something back at the castle," she joked, her eyes darting around as if looking for an escape route.

Tracey's grin only widened. "Nice try, Hermione, but there's no getting out of this. If this date doesn't work out, it's not the end of the world. It'll just give me more data to pick a better candidate next time. So prepare for an interview when we get back!"

Despite her nerves, Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at Tracey's unrelenting enthusiasm. "I can't wait," she said, her voice laced with both sarcasm and genuine curiosity.

As the carriage continued on its way to Hogsmeade, the group laughed and chatted, the anticipation of the day ahead filling the air. Hermione, though still nervous, found herself surrounded by friends who cared deeply for her happiness, and that thought alone was enough to bolster her spirits as they approached the quaint village.

As soon as the carriage rolled to a stop in Hogsmeade, Rigel and Daphne excused themselves, mentioning they had some matters to attend to. Neville, too, veered off on his own, mumbling something about needing supplies for a Herbology project. That left Harry, Tracey, and a visibly apprehensive Hermione to continue their journey to Madam Puddifoot's.

The trio entered the cosy tea shop, which was adorned with frills and an excess of pink decor. Tracey's eyes quickly scanned the room before she excitedly pointed towards a window seat at the back. "There! That's your date, Hermione. Remember, give it a try, and I expect a detailed interview on the ride back to the castle. Have fun!" With a gentle push, she nudged Hermione towards her fate.

Harry, who had been quietly observing, couldn't believe his eyes when he saw who Tracey had chosen for Hermione's date. Cormac McLaggen sat there, looking as self-assured as ever. Harry knew him from the Quidditch team — the one person he could barely tolerate. McLaggen was far too full of himself for Harry's liking.

No sooner had Hermione been ushered towards her date than Tracey grabbed Harry's hand, pulling him out of the shop. "Now we can spend the day together since everyone else has darted off," she said with a smile.

Harry couldn't help but comment on her choice of date for Hermione. "Tracey, are you sure about this? McLaggen? It's most likely not going to work out."

Tracey sighed, her expression showing a mix of acknowledgment and mischief. "Yeah, I know. But I want to see how Hermione reacts to a near-opposite personality of her own. Besides, only when you mingle can you find out what you like and dislike. I mean, would you have guessed she liked Viktor? Maybe she'll find some aspects of McLaggen appealing while despising others. But enough talk about her," Tracey said, her eyes lighting up with a playful glint. "Let's find something romantic to do."

Harry chuckled, feeling a lightness in his heart despite the earlier turmoil. "Lead the way," he said, his spirits lifted by Tracey's energetic presence. He had no specific plans other than to enjoy the day with her, and as they walked down the bustling streets of Hogsmeade, he felt a sense of anticipation for the unexpected joys the day might bring.

~~~o~~~

In the late afternoon, as the sun began its descent towards the horizon, Harry and Tracey made their way to where the carriages back to Hogwarts waited. There, they found Rigel, Daphne, and Neville already gathered, chatting quietly among themselves.

Tracey couldn't contain her excitement. "Hermione is the one who's stayed out the longest. Maybe her date IS working out after all," she said, a hopeful lilt in her voice.

However, their curiosity was soon satisfied when Hermione appeared, her expression less than enthusiastic. She joined the group, her demeanour clearly indicating the date hadn't gone as well as Tracey had hoped.

As they all climbed into the carriage, Tracey wasted no time. She whipped out a piece of parchment and a quill, ready for her 'interview.' "Okay, Hermione, spill the beans. How was it?"

Hermione let out a sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. "It was awful," she confessed. "And it didn't help that it was at Madam Puddifoot's. I've never been there before, but I realised quickly that I absolutely hate it. It's just too... frilly and overwhelming."

She then turned her attention back to the date itself. "As for Cormac, the only thing he liked to talk about was himself. I felt like he barely realised I was even there. He talks way too much and about such meaningless things. Ugh." Hermione paused, the frustration evident in her voice.

Finally, she concluded with a note of finality, "I thanked him for his time, but made it very clear that there wouldn't be a second date."

Tracey, diligently noting down key points, nodded sympathetically. "I expected as much," she admitted. "But don't worry, Hermione. I'm methodical, and the next date will be much, much better! I promise." She then enveloped Hermione in a comforting hug, expressing her gratitude. "Thank you for at least trying. It's all part of the process."

The carriage trundled along the path back to Hogwarts, the conversation shifting to lighter topics as they tried to lift Hermione's spirits. Despite the unsuccessful date, the group's camaraderie remained strong, their shared experiences only serving to deepen their bond. As Hogwarts' silhouette grew larger against the evening sky, they knew they had each other to lean on, no matter the ups and downs of their adventures.