CHAPTER SIX: HERMIONE RISING

Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

1 September 1994

"Welcome," Professor Scrimgeour said, hands clasped before him, "to fourth year Defense Against the Dark Arts. Last year, we thoroughly covered magical creatures, and common defenses against them. This year will have a significantly more rigorous curriculum focussed on both offensive and defensive magic both to prepare you for your O.W.L. year and for the upcoming dueling tournament."

A murmur of interest passed through the class.

Professor Scrimgeour flicked his wand, sending copies of the syllabus onto each student's desk. "As you see on the syllabus, we have several guest lectures this year. Professor Runcorn will hold several dueling practices during our class time, and will also hold several optional sessions outside of class for those interested in furthering their dueling skills. If you are interested in competing this spring, I highly recommend attending these as both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have established dueling clubs."

Ron sat up straighter in his chair.

"Professor Moody will also give a talk about the Auror corps and speak to some of his experiences out in the field. If you need to be excused from Professor Moody's lecture for any reason, please set up a meeting with me during office hours and we will determine a reasonable makeup assignment."

Ron mentally winced. A significant portion of the Slytherin fourth years had family who'd been put in Azkaban by Moody, and Ron fully expected at least half of the class to be absent whenever Moody guest-lectured.

"Today, instead of discussing the syllabus, which all of you should be capable of reading on your own time, we will conduct a skills evaluation. As some of you may already be aware, the International Dueling League, or IDL, has six divisions of dueling: Bantam, Pixie, Mamba, Hippogriff, Sphinx, and Manticore. While the dueling tournament here will be done by school year, we will use the IDL's standards in today's class. Most of you will fall into the Pixie category, but some may be in either the Bantam or Mamba category depending on how much outside training you've received as well as your natural aptitude for the sport."

Ron ran some quick mental calculations. While he wasn't the best in their year in Defense - that honor fell squarely to Hermione, then to Harry who had an indescribable knack for the subject - he could certainly hold his own against the rest of the Slytherins, although some of the Ravenclaws consistently outperformed him. Malfoy also was disappointingly competent in the class, and could be good if he did his homework earlier instead of strutting around the Slytherin common room.

"According to IDL rules," Professor Scrimgeour continued, "an individual can move into a higher division either from passing a skills test or from winning a certain number of matches within their division. The exact details vary slightly based on whether you subscribe to the Transylvanian rules or the Hohenzollern-Hechingen rules. Of course, there are other styles of dueling, most notably those who follow the standards laid down by ancient Mesopotamian wizards. But I digress.

"Today, I will assess your knowledge of basic spellwork, and, if time permits, we will also hold practice duels. If everyone could come to the front of the classroom, and line up across the room…"

There was a great scraping as everyone pushed back their chairs and made their way to the front of the room. Ron ended up standing between Harry and Theo, and was grateful that he'd be far away from Crabbe and Goyle's attempts at casting as well as Pansy's frequent whinging.

Professor Scrimgeour flicked his wand, and a row of dummies positioned themselves in front of each student. "Please listen closely. I will name a spell, and you will have up to a count of three to perform the spell on the dummy in front of you. Missing the dummy, or miscasting the spell, will result in automatic disqualification. Since most of you should be unfamiliar with this format, the first three spells will be basic material from second and third year defense. After that, I will ask you to return to your desk if you fail to properly cast a spell. Does everyone understand?"

There was a chorus of 'yeses' and nodded heads.

"Wands at the ready…"

Ron drew his wand, and grasped it carefully, ensuring to grip it tight enough that it wouldn't fall out of his hand, but lightly enough so that it could move fluidly through the air.

"Cast the Blindfolding Spell."

"Obscuro!"

"Dancing Jinx."

"Tarantallegra!"

"Leg-Locking Curse."

"Locomotor Mortis!"

Professor Scrimgeour nodded in approval. "Good work. Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle, you need to work more on the precision of your movements and your aim. Miss Davis, make sure you finish your movements sharply. Miss Bulstrode, hold your wand more lightly; it will not run away from you."

Millie flushed slightly.

"Miss Parkinson, put more force into your wand movements; your wandarm should not resemble a limp noodle. Everyone else, your work is satisfactory thus far. The first part of the evaluation will be the same as what we just did, only I will do a set of five spells instead of three. After the fifth spell is cast, those who did not perform satisfactorily will be asked to return to their seats. Wands at the ready…"

Ron got in the ready position once again, heart pounding in his chest.

"Body-Binding Curse."

"Petrificus Totalus!"

"Stinging Hex."

"Ictus!"

"Tripping Jinx."

"Conruo!"

"Cheering Charm."

"Es Laetus!"

"Disarming Charm."

"Expelliarmus!"

Ron stood, slightly breathless, as Scrimgeour paced in front of them. "If you do not know a spell, kindly do not attempt to cast it."

Goyle looked guilty.

"Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle, Miss Parkinson and Miss Davis, kindly take your seats. I would recommend you all revist the disarming charm. Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle, please see me after class or during my office hours."

The group walked back to their seats, and Tracy at least looked embarrassed at her shoddy wandwork.

"Wands at the ready…"

Professor Scrimgeour rattled off another series of spells, ending with a Shield Charm. While Ron felt his Shield Charm was passable, it wasn't nearly as good as Harry's, which had manifested as solid-looking pearly sphere, whereas Ron's had a slight waver to it.

"Mr. Zabini, Miss Greengrass, Miss Bulstrode, you may be seated. Mr. Weasley, your Shield Charm barely made the standard. For future reference, if you put more power into the final flick of your wand while strongly focusing on a sense of self-protection, your shield will be more uniform. That goes for you as well, Miss Moon.

"Our next set of spells will move into the fourth year skillset. Wands at the ready…"

Ron grimaced in anticipation. While he had skimmed the textbook, he hadn't extensively studied any of the spells. He was fairly certain Malfoy and Nott had private tutoring over the summer, and Hermione of course was kilometers ahead of everyone else. Harry had an undeniable knack for picking up spells, although he was either very good at them, or impressively bad. There didn't seem to be much of a middle ground.

Professor Scrimgeour snapped out five curses and hexes, all of which Ron recognized, although his Impediment Jinx was rather sad. He found some solace in the fact that Harry's Impediment Jinx was also terrible, and Nott's missed the dummy completely.

"Mr. Weasley, Mr. Nott, Mr. Potter, and Miss Moon, you may return to your seats. An impressive effort on all your parts, especially considering you have not officially learned any of these spells."

Ron took his seat, watching Hermione and Malfoy with a degree of anticipation. He wasn't surprised that Malfoy was competent, but he hadn't expected him to be on a similar level as Hermione. Ron quietly vowed to work harder outside of class to ensure that Malfoy never outperformed him again.

"Miss Granger, and Mr. Malfoy, wands at the ready…"

Professor Scrimgeour called out a sequence of spells, all of which Hermione performed without even the slightest degree of hesitation. Malfoy paused before doing several of the jinxes, but did surprisingly well on the ones he cast. "Excellent work, Mr. Malfoy, although your Flocking Charm was poorly cast, and you exceeded the time limit on two of the other spells. Five points to Slytherin for a job well done. You may take your seat.

"Miss Granger, you successfully cast the entire set. If you could get in the ready position…"

Hermione stood, wand extended in front of her, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet. Professor Scrimgeour barked out the spells at a slightly faster rate, and Hermione easily cast each of them. Instead of stopping after five spells, Scrimgeour continued ruthlessly onwards, shouting the spells quicker and quicker. Hermione's wand snapped precisely through each movement, and she showed no hesitation until the eleventh spell, which Ron didn't even recognize. She wavered for a moment, then cast the spell successfully.

Scrimgeour stopped. "Very impressive work, Miss Granger. Five points to Slytherin."

Hermione nodded in acknowledgement.

"Have you been coached in dueling before?"

"Yes, but not formally."

"Did you train over the summer?"

"No sir."

"Interesting. You may take your seat."

Hermione sat down with a grimace. Ron looked over. "That was bloody incredible."

"Thanks."

Professor Scrimgeour checked his pocket watch. "Given that we only have ten minutes remaining in class, I will let you leave early. Miss Granger, if you could stay for a moment…"

Ron quickly packed up his bag, and followed Harry into the hallway.

"D'you think Hermione's all right?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged, lifting his book bag into a more secure position on his shoulder. "Probably. Scrimgeour likely just wants to know why she's so bloody good."

"I mean, she did beat out the rest of the class."

"Yeah, and by knowing spells that haven't even been taught yet. I read through the textbook, and I didn't even recognize some of the ones Scrimgeour asked her to do."

Harry gave a low whistle. "She really did take things seriously after the whole...you know."

Ron grimaced. The attack on Hermione the previous year had been horrific. Ron vividly remembered standing in the Hospital Wing as Hermione lay in a bed with lacerations across her face. Madam Pomfrey had healed them perfectly, of course, but it'd still been incredibly unsettling. Ron didn't think he'd ever seen Professor Prince as angry as he was after the attack. While Ron's anger typically ran hot, Professor Prince's was glacial. The way he'd stared down the common room and demanded if anyone had known about Atlas Carrow's planned attack on Hermione still sent shivers down Ron's spine. In Ron's opinion, Carrow and his cronies should have been expelled, but certain bribes presumably passed into the Board of Governors had let them slip by with inordinate amounts of detention, and a mere week of suspension for Carrow. It made Ron furious, just thinking about it.

"I know. It was really hard on her, even though the entire House was brassed off at Carrow for making everyone look like stupid bigots. It's hard to understand what it's like for her, being the only muggleborn in Slytherin, and missing out on a lot of the traditions that most wizards know."

"Hey, I was muggle-raised!" Harry objected.

"Yeah, but you're Boy-Who-Lived and the heir to an Ancient House. You get treated quite a bit differently than the rest of us."

"Don't I know about that," Harry said, sounding surprisingly bitter. "I wish...I wish sometimes that I wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived, or a Potter. I wish I could be just Harry, play Quidditch, and not worry about everyone pretending to be my friend or writing articles in the gossip column of the Daily Prophet over what flavor of ice cream I got at Fortescue's."

"I think everyone wishes they could be someone else sometimes," Ron said tentatively, "but we've got to make the best of what we've got, right?"

Harry nodded. "With any luck, there'll be some mega celebrity who comes with Beauxbatons or Durmstrang, and people won't be bothered with me because they'll be too busy ogling whoever it is Beauxbatons or Durmstrang brings.

"Here's to hoping."

Footsteps sounded behind them, and Ron looked back to see Hermione hurrying down the hallway.

"What did Scrimgeour want?" Harry asked curiously.

"Huh? Oh, nothing much. He just wanted to make sure that I'd be planning on participating in the dueling tournament, and that I'd get some good practice in beforehand. If I keep improving, he thinks I could win our age bracket," Hermione said, voice bright.

Ron thought Hermione's voice sounded a bit too bright, and that it was a bit higher than usual, but he kept it to himself. If Scrimgeour had been quizzing Hermione on exactly how she knew all of those spells, it really wasn't his business to know.