Alright, I suppose an apology is in order. I have written or updated for a long time, and that's on me. I got sick with something, and my energy just tanked. I just got past some writer's block, and then didn't have the energy to write; a darn shame. This chapter alone had three different variations.
Hopefully, this can make up for it.
Harry's schedule for the day landed him, by whatever the opposite of a miracle was, with a history of magic, potions, divination, and defense against the dark arts all in the same Monday. History, still taught by the ghost, Professor Binns, had Harry fighting to stay awake after more than ten minutes. Hopefully, he and Ron could manage divination with Sybill ranting on about mysterious tidings in her predictions. Potions, on the other hand, would hopefully be much more exciting with a teacher other than Snape.
The three of them ran to the dungeons, where they met the rest of their year waiting by the door. They didn't have to wait long before the dungeon door opened and Slughorn's belly preceded him out of the door. He motioned the whole class in, greeting everyone by name, with Harry's greeting being the most enthusiastic of all. The dungeon was, most unusually, already full of vapors and odd smells.
As they walked through the (unusually well-lit) classroom, Harry, unlike most students, chose not to smell the nearby cauldrons as they passed by. He'd seen the stuff Zecora made on the regular, he wasn't putting his face near a bubbling potion if he could help it. Harry, Ron, and Hermione took a table together. There was a blue potion sitting at their table, and a small vial of it next to the cauldron, decorated with a glass fist on the stopper. Not long after, Ernie Macmillan joined their table to fill the last seat.
"Now then," said Slughorn, returning to the front of the class and inflating his already bulging chest so that the buttons on his waistcoat 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 kinds of things you ought to be able to do after completing your O.W.L.s. You ought to have heard of them, even if you haven't made them yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?"
He gestured to a potion nearest to the Slytherins' table. Harry raised himself slightly and could see a deep-purple potion idly swirling and bubbling within. Hermione's infamous hand launched into the air before anyone else's; Slughorn pointed at her.
"It's a wit-sharpening potion, normally used to cure the confundus charm."
"Very good, very good!" said Slughorn happily. "But I wouldn't advise brewing it for your exams. Quite agaisnt the rules. Now," Slughorn pointed at the cauldron at Harry's table, "this one here is pretty well-known for illegally being sold to muggles. can anyone—?"
Against Harry's will (and better judgment) his hand was raised, but nowhere near beating Hermione's to the air. Slughorn, for whatever reason possessed him, pointed at Harry.
"Um... strengthening potion?" Harry said, more as a question than a confident answer.
"Right you are, Harry! Now," Slughorn pointed to another cauldron, "I don't expect anyone to know this, but... yes, my dear?" said Slughorn, now looking slightly bemused, as Hermione's hand punched the air again.
"It's an everlasting elixir!"
"It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask," said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed, "but I assume you know what it does?"
"Potions made as everlasting elixirs either last forever, or never run out," said Hermione confidently. "Provided, of course, that some remain inside the bottle."
"Quite excellent! Yes!" declared Slughorn. "Might I ask for your name, my dear?"
"Hermione Granger, sir."
"Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"
"No, I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggle-born, you see."
Harry saw Malfoy lean close to Nott and whisper something; both of them sniggered, but Slughorn showed no dismay. On the contrary, he beamed and looked from Hermione to Harry. Something akin to recognition flashed through Slughorn's eyes.
"Oho," said Slughorn. "There's one every year, I say! A muggle-born with an insatiable curiosity about magic, always the stand-out student. Keep that up and you'll remind me of one of the brightest students I had years ago: Lily Potter."
Harry was surprised to learn this man knew his mother and, possibly, his father. Slughorn seemed to reminisce for a moment after bringing that up.
"Anyways," said Slughorn mentally returning to the class, "we have a little over an hour left to us, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at that wit-sharpening potion. Turn to page seven for the instructions. I know it is a potion from last year, but I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody; I merely want to see where you are in the class. Off you go!"
There was the sound of scrapping as cauldrons and tools were moved into place as students moved to complete their first assignment. No way was Harry going to fail at this, he'd never hear the end of it if Apple Bloom found out he made a bad potion he was already supposed to have known.
"Sir, I think you knew my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy?"
Harry looked up; Slughorn was just passing the Slytherin table. Malfoy looked at his cauldron with a smug look of bravado, obviously trying to look in charge.
"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."
And he walked away. Harry bent back over his cauldron, smirking. He could tell that Malfoy had expected to be treated like Harry or Zabini; perhaps even hoped for some preferential treatment of the type he had learned to expect from Snape. Harry turned back to his potions. Without Sanpe's glaring, Harry felt remarkably confident in his brewing. At the end of the lesson, they each presented their potions to Slughorn, who was all too pleased to see Harry's good work. And, for what must've been the first time in Harry's lifetime, points were awarded to Gryffindor in potions class. Harry left believing he would have his best year in potions ever.
Then came Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Harry would always be thankful for Twilight's and Shining Armor's tutelage. In Harry's eyes, every good thing that had ever happened to him came from magic. Shining Armor's magical combat lessons were invaluable, and Twilight had taught him stuff way beyond his class year. However, Harry had a sinking feeling they might become a problem.
Snape had redecorated the entire room; it was gloomier with curtains drawn over the windows and lit solely by candlelight. Diagrams adorned the walls, many of them showing people in pain, sporting horrible injuries, or viciously misaligned body parts. Nobody spoke as they settled down, looking around at the shadowy, gruesome pictures.
"I have not asked you to take out your books," Snape scowled, closing the door and moving to face the class from behind his desk; Hermione hastily placed her copy of Defensive Magical Theory (a most useless book by Shining's training standards, and rather lacking by Twilight's) back in her bag. "I will speak, and I will have your fullest attention."
Snape's eyes scanned the class of students, his eyes briefly lingering on Harry with disdain.
"So far, you've had four different teachers in this class, one each year," Snape said.
Wow, you can count, Harry thought bitterly. And I hope we never have to see you again after this one, git.
"Each professor had varying methods and ideas, each with wildely different results. This year will be very important for you fifth-years, as you will be having your Ordinary Wizarding Level exams, O.W.L.s." Snape stalked around the room, looking at the many morbid images around the room.
"The Dark Arts," Snape spoke in a low, almost gentle voice. "are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, and indestructible."
Harry stared at Snape. Who do you think you are, talking about the dark arts with that much admiration?
"Your defenses," Snape spoke again, 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. These first weeks will focus on dark magics. You will be threatened by more than the three unforgivable curses, like the Cuciatus curse." Snape pointed to a witch who writhed in agony. "But many other dangerous spells that only the most powerful can conjure, like Fiendfyre." Snape again pointed to a painting of a fiery beast incinerating the wizard who conjured them.
"The next weeks will focus entirely on defending against magic targeting you. So, first, you will be demonstrating your understanding of defensive magics. Get in pairs of two, one partner will attempt to jinx their opponent, and the other will block. Dueling requires skills and concentration, something some of you—" Snape glared at Harry— "lack. Disarm or stun only, I will not have a student sent to the hospital wing on the first day."
Snape waved his wand, and the tables slid and stacked themselves into a corner of the room. The chairs followed a moment later, regardless of whether someone was using it or not. Students got in their pairs and immediately began flinging spells at each other. Harry noticed the Slytherin students took pleasure in attacking, while the Ravenclaw students preferred more unorthodox spell usage.
Harry and Ron paired up and stood across from each other. Ron raised his wand and cast the disarming spell at him. Harry swung his left hand defensively and deflected the spell with a quick magical "parry", much to Ron's surprise. Harry thrust his right hand forward and a rounded barrier manifested before Harry. Ron huffed and flung a flurry of jinxes and charms at Harry, who concentrated on keeping his barrier up. It felt strange, to keep this much magic active without his "wand". Harry's hand twitched toward his pocket several times when Ron used more potent spells, but he held his barrier stable as Ron continued to batter it.
Ron eventually cut off, panting as he rested his hands on his knees. Harry, on the other hand, felt full of adrenaline.
"Alright mate, that ain't fair," Ron huffed, standing back up. "Why do you have to be so good at this?"
"Two reasons," Harry puffed. "I've got experience with it, and my mentors are magical prodigies. Between those, I'm just well-trained," Harry answered Ron. An idea came to Harry then. He pictured a specific book in his head, then said, "Accio."
A familiar book flung into his hand from his bag, the book Twilight had gifted him the year before. Every spell had both its original and "translated" form, written, though Harry and Twilight had yet to test the wizarding translations. She said something about spells being based in older languages, the older, the more practiced. Harry flipped to a newer page with his handwriting scrawled on it. Shield-to-sword, reflection, notes on physical barriers... Here, Shining Armor's barrier spell. Let's see, wand movement, incantation, concentration... yep.
"Here, try this one," Harry said, pointing at the spell he'd used. "A barrier spell Twilght's brother taught me."
Harry drew his wand from his pocket and handed Ron the book. Harry held his wand out, traced a circle from the lowest point, and then swung the wand up, completing the movement. "Contego," Harry said firmly.
Just like before, a rounded barrier rose between Harry and Ron. It wavered before falling apart. Harry tucked his wand away. Ponyfeathers.
"Wicked," Ron exclaimed. He pointed at the spell in the book. "This one?" Harry nodded; Ron handed the book back to Harry and mimicked the wand movements wrong. "Contego!"
A bright flash of light preceded Ron getting slapped by his barrier spell. The recoil of the magic knocked him to the ground, winded. Harry knelt over Ron, equally concerned and amused.
"Everything good down there?" Harry asked.
"Peachy," Ron replied.
"Weasley, Potter, what are you doing?" Snape demanded, marching to them.
Harry hauled Ron to his feet quickly.
"Nothing, just a shield spell on wrong," Harry said quickly.
"A simple shield spell?" Snape questioned, an eyebrow raised. "My, my, Weasley, you still have a few disappointments left in you after all. You couldn't get the incantation right, either."
Harry glowered at Snape and said, "Contego." The barrier raised itself between the two boys and Snape for a few seconds before dissipating. Harry flipped to the barrier spell in the book and then slammed it shut. "Trust me, we got the incantation right. After all, I wrote it."
"Give me that book," Snape demanded, his hand held out. "I will not have students experimenting with spells in my classroom." Harry and Snape glared at each other defiantly. "Unless you want to trade the book for a detention, I'd suggest handing it over, Potter."
Harry's teeth ground against each other as the staredown continued for a moment longer. "Fine." Harry thrust the book into Snape's hands. "You wanted flexible and inventive defenses, that's what the spell is."
Snape flipped through the book himself, arriving at the section about defensive magic. His eyes occasionally narrowed or an eyebrow raised as he skimmed the book. Harry's frustration grew in ferocity; he, Twilgiht, and Shining Armor had contributed hours to that project, all for the lousiest teacher in school to take it away on the first day.
"Then perhaps you'd like to give a demonstration then, Potter," Snape said. His wand hand raised slowly to point at Harry. "If you insist you are that adept."
Harry backed up a few feet, maintaining eye contact.
"Any day now."
Snape flung a spell at Harry nearly instantly. Harry's wand flew to his hand as he swung it up, projecting his most potent barrier spell. A bright turquoise dome expanded out of Harry's wand, batting aside Snape's spell, so powerful it also pushed Snape back a step.
Harry looked down at his wand. A brief spark of magenta jumped from the tip to Harry's fingers. That's strange. The spell was stronger than I meant to cast it, way stronger than normal. It felt like Twilight's crown for a moment. I wonder why...
Snape stood up and dusted his robes off, scowling all the while.
"Your instructions were to defend only."
"You didn't land a hit on me," Harry said from within his bubble. "Seems like a good defense to me."
"Overconfidence will get you killed if you were to ever encounter an actual dark wizard."
"I did just fine against you in the third year," Harry said before realizing what he spoke. Several students gasped in surprise. Several Gryffindors behind Snape grinned mischievously. Snape's perpetual scowl only deepened.
"So be it," Snape scowled. "If you want to duel, I will put you back in your place, Potter."
Another flurry of spells probed against Harry's shield, but the barrier held against the onslaught. If Harry were to guess, Snape was looking for weaknesses. Harry scowled. Harry followed up by strengthening the barrier between himself and Snape and flinging another set of stunning spells forward. Harry grinned as he poured more magic into his barrier. The turquoise shield glowed, and Harry could've sworn he saw magenta sparks arc over the surface.
Still upholding his barrier, Harry dropped forward and transformed, much to Snape's surprise. Magical creatures are resilient to magic, which gives me an advantage.
Another spell splashed against Harry's shield, causing it to flicker.
"If you are incapable of taking a duel seriously, do not expect to pass my class this year," Snape sneered at Harry.
Harry's magic flared up as he empowered his shield and sent a stunner straight at Snape's face. Snape replied with a silvery shield of his own, blocking Harry's spells. The professor deflected it quickly but was obviously caught off guard. A jet of red light released from Snape's wand, battering heavily against the barrier. Harry managed to keep up with the attacks, biding his time to release a proper counterattack. But Snape was skilled, with years more experience in duels than Harry.
I have to attack, but how? If I stop charging the shield, I'm gonna get hit eventually. I could wait for Snape to wear himself out. I don't have another defense... I've got no choice!
Shining Armor once told Harry that a good defense could be turned into a potent offensive tool. The "shield-to-sword" spell, directed the barrier into a potent magical force. His bracelet sparkled with magenta magic, which spiraled up toward his horn. The light grew in intensity still, blinding Harry. Magic sparked from his horn as the magic grew wild and untamed.
No; this is getting out of hand! What's going on!?
Harry shook his horn, and his barrier shattered in a brilliant blast of magenta light that washed over Snape and Harry. The potent spell launched Snape across the room in a blink, colliding against a table with a loud crash. The same light slammed into Harry, sending him skidding across the floor as he (unsuccessfully) tried to stay on his hooves. The blast overwhelmed his senses, washing the room with disorienting lights and ringing like a bell. Harry stumbled off his four hooves, dazed and disoriented. He waited for what felt like forever for the room to stop spinning around. Harry blinked the afterimages away as the ringing noise faded out.
Oww... My head; why is it always my head?
A hand touched Harry's shoulder. "You alright there, Harry?" Ron asked.
"Yeah." Harry nodded. "Is everyone else okay?" Harry mumbled through his headache.
Harry glanced around the room. Most students suffered lesser fates than Harry, with severe disorientation at worst. Most were rubbing their eyes or ears from the blast. Some student mumbled their status, while most gave a thumbs-up. Thankfully, Harry and Snape were the only ones knocked around by the magic surge.
Harry rubbed at his bracelet; a strange shiver went down Harry's spine. It felt identical to when he used the crown in the Everfree Forest. This does have Harmony magic, Twilight was right! I've got to show her this when my head stops ringing... Harry transformed into a human as he stumbled past the professor, who appeared stunned or unconscious. Snape's wand had embedded itself in one of his macabre paintings, far from reach. Harry picked his book back up from where Snape dropped it on the ground.
"So not to be the bearer of bad news." One of the Ravenclaw boys turned Snape over, showing a nasty welt on the professor's head. "But I think you gave the professor a concussion."
"Does this mean class is over?" Ron asked.
After the student's diagnosis, a less disoriented Ravenclaw scurried to the hospital wing. When Madame Pomfrey arrived, she diagnosed Snape with a concussion, stunning, and mild scrapes and bruises. (Harry was embarrassed that he went this far, but he would never apologize.) Snape was escorted to the hospital wing by the school's matron, who mumbled about students being reckless on the first day. Harry thought it ironic how Snape had gotten himself taken out of commission on the first day of school after the professor had been after the job for at least six years.
Unfortunately, it didn't send Snape to St. Mungo's. Pomfry said Snape would be back by Tuesday.
With the last class of their day finished early by Snape's "accident", Harry and the others met up outside the castle, not far from Hagrid's hut. Hermione, Ron, Twilight, and Sunset all met up before dinner, sitting in a circle on the ground.
"So, how was everyone's first day?" Twilight asked.
Harry shrugged. "It was alright—"
"It was incredible!" Ron shouted. "I mean, History and Divination are a bore, and that Slughorn bloke don't seem to bad for a Slytherin—"
"Ron, remember what I said about bad-mouthing Slytherins we don't know?" Harry said. "Snape, Malfoy, and their cronies are free game."
"Just don't give me a concussion like you did Snape, and we'll be fine."
"You what!?" Twilight screeched, appalled. She slammed the books she was carrying shut harshly. "Harry, he's one of your professors, you can't do that!"
"He attacked me first," Harry replied.
"He what!? In a school!?"
"Alright, where is he now?" Sunset said. She slammed her old book shut firmly and popped a few knuckles.
"Straight to the hospital wing, that's where!" Ron exclaimed. "We were having duels on the first day, and I paired off with Harry. He just stood there with a shield, without a wand!"
"It was rather impressive," Hermione added. "Wandless magic is notoriusly difficult. Though you three," she gestured at Harry, Twilight, and Sunset, "seem adequately skilled with it. I can barely do anything without one."
"Yeah, well, anyways," Ron continued to retell the events, "Harry tried to teach me the spell, but Snape thought we were goofing off. He tried to take Harry's book, then decided to take Harry on himself! But Snape couldn't get a hit with that shield!"
"That's my brother's hoofwork, alright. Glad to see you learned something," Twilight said, nudging Harry.
"You taught me plenty," Harry replied, nudging Twilight back. The girl blushed and hid behind her hair.
"But that's not the best part!" Ron interrupted. "Harry turned into a unicorn to fight. Harry hit Snape with something, I'm not sure what—"
"The shield-shattering spell, another spell of Shining's design. It turns my defensive spells into offensive magic," Harry supplied.
"Just let me get to the good part!" Ron shouted, exasperated and waving his hands about wildly. When no one interrupted, Ron continued with his story. "It was like my brothers set off a firework in everyone's face. Scorched ground, broken windows, everything! I think my ears are still ringing. Whatever you did, I'd bet you're unbeatable like that! Who taught you that one?"
"No one," Harry answered. "It was a magical surge, I think. This," Harry rattled his bracelet, "was what caused it, not me."
"I think these things are more dangerous than we estimated," Twilight said, looking at her bracelet. "I felt a similar sensation around the same time. We'll need to run some tests, before someone gets hurt, badly."
The group dropped the conversation as best they could and moved on to another topic on their way to the great hall. Despite Harry's questions, Twilight and Sunset deflected from their time with Dumbledore, so the others spent more time talking about anything else. By the time they reached the great hall, a small voice in Harry's mind refused to be silent anymore.
Unbeatable... That doesn't sound too bad...
Hey, and there's that. Snape's still around, Slughorn is teaching, the pink toad has yet to rear her ugly mug, and magic is weird. I wanted Harry and Snape to "fight" at some point, seeing as the original reason for the occupancy lessons (Harry's psychic link) no longer exists, but not without Harry dominating the fight or Snpae being beyond unreasonably... Snape. Harry knocking Snape out and Harry nearly losing consciousness seemed like a far trade, especially with the "boost" from the bracelet.