5. Professor Hogwarts?

One of the Dragon-handlers must have raced ahead, because there was a reception committee when Harry and Charlie arrived at the front doors to the castle. Dumbledore, Sprout, McGonagall, Snape, and Moody were there. Flitwick was hurrying out the doors when Harry dismounted the broom.

Snape was wearing his usual sneer.

"Thanks, Charlie, I'll see you tomorrow," Harry said giving him a goodbye wave.

Charlie waved back. "I'll be at Hagrid's hut when you get out of classes," he said as he took off to the dragon encampment.

Dumbledore stepped forward the moment Charlie left. "Harry, my boy, you do not know how happy and gratified I am that you did not perish in the First Task."

He actually sounded sincere to Harry.

The other professors, except for Snape, expressed similar sentiments.

Harry looked at the professor, the Golden Egg cradled in his left arm. He ran his right hand across the back of his neck. "Well," he said sheepishly, "I have to say that I feel the same. I mean, one moment I'm standing in front of the Hungarian Horntail with the Golden Egg," he glanced down at it, "Then I see a bright light, feel a hot breeze, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up on the floor of Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets!"

He sighed deeply.

Just then Madam Pomfrey came hurrying up. She brushed past the other Professors and stopped beside him, studying him under the bright light from her wand. "How do you feel?"

"Fine."

She rolled her eyes and started casting diagnostic spells. "Dragons!" she said, in a disgusted tone. She took a moment to glare at the Headmaster before looking back at her spell results. "Last year dementors, this year dragons, what are they going to bring into this school next?" She glanced back at Dumbledore. "Acromantulas? Fire Scorpions?" She narrowed her eyes at his slightly guilty look.

She turned back to the results from her spells. "Hmm?" she said, her eyebrows going up. She gave him a surprised look. "Well," she said approvingly, "For once you aren't injured. Your magic reserves are very low, typical for someone who has expended a great deal of their magic. However, they should recover nicely in a few days, if you take it easy with spells." She glared at him. "Which I expect you to do! Nothing that isn't required or too strenuous."

"Yes, ma'am," he immediately replied.

She stepped back. "So," she said, "What happened?" echoing Dumbledore's earlier question.

He smiled ruefully, and again ran his right hand across the back of his neck. "All I can say, really," he shrugged, "is that one moment I was standing in front of the dragon, she opened her mouth a bit, I saw a bright light and felt a hot breeze, then I was in Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets. I passed out almost immediately, then woke up on the floor . . . later."

Flitwick frowned. "Apparition? Accidental magic?" he suggested, looking at Dumbledore.

"It would explain why his reserves are so low considering he hasn't done any strenuous magic today," offered Madam Pomfrey. "Have you?" She looked at Harry.

Harry shook his head. "I just spent about fifteen minutes shooting sparks up hoping someone would find me." He shrugged. "Other than that, nothing to speak of."

"Something different, I presume, as apparition is quite impossible at Hogwarts, right now," Dumbledore said, stroking his beard and thinking.

"We will need to examine where he was standing very carefully, tomorrow," he said, narrowing his eyes in thought as he stared off at where the Arena was. After a moment, he shook his head slightly and looked back at Harry. "How did you get out of the Chamber, Harry?"

Harry shuffled his feet nervously and looked at the ground. He looked up at The Professors, careful not to look Dumbledore or Snape in the face. "Well, I knew that the pipe that led from Myrtle's toilets was one way out, but I didn't have a broom or anything to go up the pipe, and it was far too steep and slippery to try to climb. So, I looked all over the Chamber. Then I remembered Hagrid telling me, once, that snakes always have two exits from their nest. So, I climbed up into the place where the basilisk was when Voldemort, Tom Riddle, called it forth."

He nodded, "And he was right. I followed that tunnel for a long way, miles, I think, and it came out in the Forbidden Forest. That's when I sent up the sparks and hoped someone would see me."

He looked over at McGonagall. "Is there any way I can get something to eat?" he said plaintively. "I really wasn't that hungry at either breakfast or lunch, nerves, I guess, and I missed dinner." Hermione had suggested he say that, otherwise him not being hungry after apparently not eating all day would draw suspicions.

She glanced at Dumbledore, then back to him. "I'll have the house-elves prepare a plate for you in the Common Room."

Snape snorted, but said nothing.

"And you have no idea how you ended up in the Chamber of Secrets?" Dumbledore said.

Harry shook his head. "As I said, sir, I can't really say how I ended up in the Chamber. What sort of magic might have done that is a complete mystery to me."

"Did you mark the location of the exit? It would be nice to have a way into the Chamber that wasn't in the witches' toilets."

He shook his head. "One of the dragon-handlers might have, you'd have to ask them." He sighed. "Not that that will help you. The exit is hidden behind a spell of some kind, I couldn't find it once I left it, and neither could they."

Dumbledore nodded wisely, stroking his beard.

"What was your plan to get the Golden Egg? What did you say to the Dragon?"

Harry recited the same story that he had told to Charlie, adding that she had tossed the Golden Egg to him just to keep him away from her eggs.

No way was he going to admit that he had hoped she would kill him.

"Why do you think she didn't react as the other three dragons? They just flamed at the other Champions when they made any moves to getting closer," Professor Flitwick questioned.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know." He thought a moment. "On the other hand, unlike the others, I had no intention of attacking her, or her nest, and I really wasn't afraid of her. Maybe she could sense that?" he said speculatively.

The Professors exchanged surprised looks.

"Not afraid of the dragon?" Snape said disparagingly. "I find that hard to believe." He narrowed his eyes, "You were grandstanding, nothing more, nothing less. Recklessly assuming nothing could harm you!" he finished contemptuously, sneering.

After dying and meeting his Death Agent, Snape's insults, or anyone's really, just didn't seem worth the effort to get upset.

Harry shrugged. "It doesn't matter what you believe, all that mattered was what she believed."

Snape stiffened and his face grew red. "That will be five points for disrespecting a professor, Potter!"

Harry looked over at the other professors and tilted his head slightly. None said a word. He shrugged. Just as he had expected, they refused to do anything about a professor abusing his position and taking points from a student. Not that he cared about points.

Dumbledore studied Harry a bit longer before slowly nodding.

"Well," he finally said, "off with you, back to your dorm."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said and started to walk past The Professors.

"Oh, yes," the Headmaster said. "I almost forgot. The second task will take place at half-past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth. If you haven't already noticed, the egg you're holding, opens. To find out what the second task is and to prepare for it, you need to solve the clue inside the egg." He paused and stroked his beard. "We will announce your score at lunch, tomorrow."

Harry glanced up at Dumbledore's mouth and nodded. "Thank you, sir." He started off towards the first shortcut to the Gryffindor Dorm. He heard them start talking behind him. "But what accidental magic that isn't apparition could transport him to the Chamber of Secrets? He certainly didn't have a portkey!" he heard McGonagall say. What Flitwick said in response he couldn't make out.

It seemed they didn't suspect a thing wrong with his story.

He trudged on up to the seventh floor, then climbed in through the Fat Lady's portrait. Curfew would arrive in another hour or so. The Common Room, while not crowded, still had a few people in it. Most were melancholy and apparently discussing the Task, or his death, in low tones.

He had time to look around the Common Room. One of the people across the room was staring at him, he noticed, slack-jawed, stunned into silence.

The next person to see him was, naturally, Hermione. She had changed out of her nightgown and into something more appropriate for the Common Room. Apparently, she had been waiting for him ever since Dobby had returned her to her bed. She was sitting in a chair that had a clear view of the Entrance hole. She had three books in her lap and apparently was closely studying them. She must have been using them to hide that she had really been keeping a surreptitious eye on the Entrance hole.

When she saw him, she screamed "Harry!" standing and dumping the books she had been reading on the floor. She ran over and hugged him.

Everyone in the room had looked at her, then looked at where she was running, then they, too, started screaming and yelling.

Quickly people started coming down the stairs and joining in the yelling. The twins were ecstatic when they came downstairs and saw Harry. It seemed to take no time at all for party banners to appear: "Harry's Alive!" and "Defied Death, AGAIN!" He also found himself with a bottle of butterbeer. Hermione was almost glued to his side.

One of those to come down the stairs was Ron, who was very pale and staring at Harry as though he were a ghost.

The boy slowly walked across the room as Harry watched him. "H-how?" he managed to stutter out once he was at arms-length, giving Harry repeated head-to-toe-to-head scrutiny.

Those closest immediately quieted down. Harry answered the question of how he had escaped as he had for the last ten times: "I just woke up in the Chamber of Secrets," and shaking his head.

After a moment of silence on his part, Ron said, very seriously, "Harry, you were right. Whoever put your name in that goblet — they want you dead!"

It was as though Harry were meeting Ron for the first time, on the train. Except Harry was still nursing some anger at the boy after the last few weeks.

Harry shook his head sadly. "Caught on, have you?" Harry said coldly. "Took you long enough."

Hermione stood nervously beside Harry, looking from one to the other. Ron opened his mouth uncertainly, then shook his head. "No," Ron said slowly, "I should've believed you, you're my best mate. You wouldn't lie to me." He paused. "Not about something as important as that."

Harry slowly nodded, something tight inside him slowly unwound. "Forget it," he said.

Ron grinned nervously at him, and Harry grinned back.

Harry could see Hermione relaxing. Abruptly, before either of them could stop her, she had given both of them a hug.

Harry gave Ron a significant look. "I need to talk to you later tonight. It's important."

Ron nodded.

The twins started setting off their indoor fireworks.

By the time Professor McGonagall arrived, the entire dormitory was in the Common Room and a celebratory party was in full swing.

She stood at the entrance portal and shook her head wryly. Finally, she lifted her wand and a loud whistle sounded. The entire room quickly quieted.

"Tonight only, in view of the miraculous survival of Mr. Potter, not to mention his successful completion of the First Task, bedtime curfew is eleven o'clock."

The room filled with cheers.

She turned and left the Common Room for her office, Harry assumed. Harry chose that time to head upstairs. He really wasn't enamoured of the rest of Gryffindor, at the moment. Most still thought him a cheat for getting into the Tournament. He gave Ron a significant look and gestured with his head, nodding at the stairs.

Several minutes after he went to his room, Ron came in. Harry was waiting, sitting on his bed. "Make sure the door is closed," and waved the other over. "Climb in," he said, then closed his bed curtains and cast the silencing spell they had all learned. They could talk all they wanted and no one in the room would hear them.

He stared at the nervous boy. "Ron, I have to start seriously studying and training. Hermione and I spent until nearly three in the morning learning a spell. We started at late afternoon and only took a break for dinner. That's the sort of study I have to do from now on. I can't skive-off."

Ron slowly nodded.

"I plan to work through the rest of this year's Charms, Transfigurations, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, and DADA books before Christmas. Then I'll start on the Fifth-year books. This is the only way I will survive. It's going to be hours and hours of non-stop studying. There won't be time for chess, gob-stones, or exploding snap."

Ron nodded again; eyes wide in surprise.

"Hermione and I are going to start that tonight, from midnight until six in the morning, and doing it every night from now on. Do you want to join us?"

Ron leaned back, frowning in thought. "What about sleeping?"

"We have a time-turner."

Unfortunately, Harry knew, Ron was essentially a lazy person. He only attended classes because his parents would punish him if he didn't. He put off assignments until the very last moment, then did his best to convince Harry and Hermione into letting him copy their work. He had barely scraped by in classes in First- and Second-years, scoring lower in everything than Harry, except Potions — and Potions was only because Snape was an arse who especially hated Harry.

Ron was better about studying and practice since mid-third-year, but not by that much. He still preferred to play chess, or any other game, over going to the library or studying in the Common Room. He only studied when Hermione brow-beat him into it.

"You don't have to, if you don't want to," Harry said, conciliatorily. "I know you hate studying, and this will be a lot of studying — nonstop studying."

Ron took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Do you mind if I think on it overnight?"

Harry shook his head. "Nah. Take your time." He dismissed the silencing charm, opened his bedcurtains, and started his preparations for sleeping.

.o\O/o.

He and Hermione were unable to escape Gryffindor tower until midnight — and that required they use the Dobby Express!

Dobby unfortunately, was unfamiliar with Hogwarts, and did not know where the Dancing Troll tapestry was. He assured them that once they did find it, he would be happy to pop them to the Dancing Troll tapestry and back to their dorm-room beds every night.

That way, they never had to worry about being out-of-bounds after curfew and inevitably caught by a professors or prefect. His invisibility cloak would help conceal them, but doing that every night meant that eventually they would be caught.

In the meantime, he and Hermione had to search for the tapestry themselves. So, they had Dobby POP them to a quiet, unused section of the seventh floor . . . under his invisibility cloak, of course. No reason to take a chance without it.

"I've worked it out, Harry," Hermione whispered while they wandered the seventh floor looking for the tapestry of the trolls and wizard. "We have thirteen weeks, ninety-one nights, including tonight, before the Second Task. So, if we spend from eleven PM until six AM in the room, that's seven hours, with two days in the RoR for every hour of "normal" time outside it."

They were so close under his invisibility cloak that he could feel her breath against his ear . . . and her rather nice and soft chest pressed against his back as she leaned forward to whisper to him. The resulting involuntary reaction of his . . . willy . . . was a trifle distracting, but he could still follow what she was saying. Fortunately, being beside him, she didn't see his bar-on.

"From now to the end of the school year," she continued, "November to June, is twenty-four weeks, not counting Christmas and Easter hols, of course. That's one hundred and twenty days." She paused. "Not counting weekends," she added. "At two days per hour and seven hours in the room per night, that equals nine days normal time to finish this year." Her excitement was clear to hear in her voice.

"Now, then," she continued to lecture, "each of the remaining years is thirty-nine weeks. That is, there are fifty-two weeks in a year, less nine for summer, two weeks for Christmas, and two weeks for Easter." She paused to see if he was following her.

He nodded and murmured, "Yeah?" He trusted her math.

"That works out to one hundred and ninety-five days of classes for each year we have left, not counting weekends, of course. If we keep the same ratio of days in the room to hours of night outside it, that equals only fourteen normal nights for each year. So, to finish all three of our Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh years will take only forty-two normal days. That will put us in the middle of January." She giggled happily, "We can easily finish well before the deadline for the next Task!" She giggled, which was an interesting sensation where her chest was pressed against his arm. "We could even take Christmas off, if we wanted, and still have a year of study in the room to develop ideas for dealing with Voldemort!"

Tucked together as they were under his invisibility cloak, he could feel her shiver in excitement.

"That also assumes we only study the same number of hours that we have classes, basically from nine to three, five hours once you remove lunch. Then there's the time spent doing research and writing assignments, but those rarely add more than two or three hours to the day."

Maybe for her, that's all they added, Harry couldn't help but think.

She shivered again.

"But we'll be getting personal attention, tutored, which means we can learn at our pace instead of at Goyle's and Crabbe's pace, not to mention being able to study without distractions, so we might finish even earlier! We might need only nine normal nights instead of fourteen per year!"

She was practically giddy. "And even if we don't finish early, that still leaves twenty-six nights, three hundred and sixty-four days, almost a whole year, to perfect silent and wandless magic, and more powerful spells before the Third Task!"

Dobby came running up to them. "Dobby found it," he said excitedly. "Harry Potter Sir and Harry Potter Sir's Missy must come this way!" He turned and scurried back the way he had come.

They hurried after him.

The first thing they saw when they entered the corridor on the seventh floor was an enormous moving tapestry depicting a wizard with a group of eight trolls wearing pink tutus. According to the plate on the wall beside it, it was commemorating Barnabas the Barmy's foolish attempt to train trolls for the ballet. The small group was portrayed in a forest clearing, and some of the tutu-wearing trolls were hitting Barnabas with their clubs.

Seeing the poor wizard reeling around from all the hits he was taking from the trolls demonstrated why he had never reported to Dumbledore that anyone might be using the hidden room that sat opposite it — assuming anyone did. He was far too busy avoiding the Trolls' clubs to pay attention to anything else! If his attention did stray, then a club to the head would knock him out for long periods of time. Plus, this tapestry was probably locked from accessing the other portraits and such in the castle just to prevent the Trolls from going on a painting-tapestry rampage throughout the school!

"Okay," Harry muttered. "We want a room that will compress two weeks of time into the next seven hours, and provide us with a Professor Hogwarts to teach us what we need to know so I can survive the Second and Third tasks, right?"

There was a moment of silence from Hermione. "Better make it six hours tonight, so we can still finish at six. Plus, we don't want to age while we are in there." She huffed. "I'm sure people would notice if we physically aged from fifteen to eighteen before February!"

Harry thought about that a moment. "Uh, yeah, that would probably be a good idea."

"Dobby?" Harry said quietly, "Can you make it so no one can see Hermione while I try to get the room to appear?" No reason to be sloppy and just assume they weren't being watched.

"Dobby can do!" he said just as quietly from beside them.

Harry opened the cloak just enough for Hermione to slip out. Dobby grabbed her hand in his as she moved, and they both disappeared from view before she had time to exit the cloak! House-elf invisibility was going to be very useful, Harry realized.

Harry took a deep breath and slowly walked back and forth in front of the empty wall across from the tapestry. He concentrated on needing the room to compress two weeks into the next six hours, needing Professor Hogwarts, and them not aging while in the room.

After his third pass, an ornate door shimmered into view. He hurried over to it, stepped inside, and held it open until he heard Hermione whisper, "We're in!"

Only after he had closed the door did he look around.

It was a huge room, much bigger than any of the classrooms, but not as large as the Chamber of Secrets or the Great Hall. So, probably the third-largest room in the castle?

It was clearly divided into sections. To their left was a carpeted area that was almost a copy of the Gryffindor Common Room, with several comfy-chairs, study work-tables, fireplace, a dinner-table with two chairs, and two doors that must lead to bedrooms, Harry realized. To their right was a mini-classroom, with blackboard and two classroom table-chairs. There was a robed manikin in front of the blackboard. Further back in the room, behind the two sections, was a stone-floored open space that stretched the entire width of the room, with several more manikins against the right wall.

It was only when the manikin in front of the blackboard turned and they saw that it had a face that he realized it must be their "Professor Hogwarts"!

"Good evening, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, Mr. Dobby," it said in a nice soprano tone. "I am, as you might guess, Professor Hogwarts."

Now that he looked closer, he saw that their "professor" looked human . . . in fact, was a woman!

"I have chosen to present as a female because all three of you regard females as more relatable and reliable." It paused again. "The Room of Requirement, the official name for this room, cannot conjure food, as stated in the First Principal Exception to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. Therefore, I ask you, Dobby, if you would be willing to prepare the forty-two meals we will require every night?"

She hadn't even finished asking and he had started to eagerly and rapidly nod his head. "Dobby be happy to do that!"

"Tonight, you need to prepare them as we need them. Tomorrow and beyond, you may do the same, or prepare them all in advance and bring them under stasis at the start of the night. I will instruct the other elves to ignore what you are doing, in either case."

"Dobby do!" he exclaimed happily.

The Professor turned to the two students.

"It has been a long day for you both. Your ensuites are over there. Pick the one you want. Suitable sleep attire will appear on your bed. In the morning, think of what you want to wear, and it shall appear. We will discuss your schedules at that breakfast."

It turned to Dobby, again. "Breakfast will be in ten minutes, real-time."

Dobby immediately disappeared with a POP. The Professor winked out.

Harry looked at Hermione as she looked back with the same slightly-puzzled look he assumed he had. He shrugged. "Left, or right?" he said, waving his arm at the two doors.

"Right," she replied, and started walking that way.

He headed for the other door.

The room was exactly like his dorm-room, except smaller and half-carpeted — no cold feet in the morning! Unexpectedly, the bathroom was not a separate room. The wall-less shower and tub were against the right wall of the room, with the sink and toilet between them.

He had no trouble falling asleep. He had only thought his dorm-room bed was the softest bed in the world. This one was literally like sleeping on a warm cloud — without the cold and wet, of course.

.o\O/o.

Harry woke to a gentle ringing bell. The clock beside the bed said eight o'clock. He staggered to the bathroom section and took a quick shower in the two-yard by two-yard marked space. Interestingly, the spray of water only wet the marked section. The floor beyond that was dry. Not even directing some of the spray out of that marked-area wet the floor. The water just disappeared at the border. Just as amazing was that the water was always at the perfect temperature for him, neither too hot nor too cold.

Stepping outside that space left him completely dry, no towelling needed! Why didn't the regular dorm showers do that?

As promised, casual clothes were draped on his bed. Plus, for once, they were not Dudley cast-offs. Which meant that not only did they fit properly, they looked good, too.

It felt really odd not to have the clothes draped on him like togas and sheets.

When he stepped out of his room and looked around, he saw that there were two plates with drinks sitting on the dinner table he had noticed last night.

He figured Hermione probably had received the same wake-up alarm he had, but girls took longer to get ready. He had learned that much over the years at the Dursley's and then at Hogwarts.

He had barely sat down when Hermione came out of her room, saw him, and hurried over. "That shower is amazing!" she declared excitedly. "Why don't the regular showers work that way?"

He shook his head. "It would be faster in the mornings, wouldn't it? And no more hours of wet hair during the winter!"

The spell on the plate had disappeared when he sat down, and the wonderful smells of a full English breakfast wafted up. He started in almost immediately. He was surprisingly hungry.

So was Hermione — no surprise there. Just like him, she had had only a couple of sandwiches for all of yesterday.

The only sounds were of their forks and knives hitting the plates.

"Well," Hermione said, putting down her fork and looking at Harry. "What do we call . . . her?" She frowned, puzzling how to address a concept.

Harry sat and chewed his last bite, thinking. "I guess we should say she. After all, she did say she chose a female appearance to make us more at ease, and it would be awkward to address what looks like a woman as it."

She paused. "I don't know," she said with an undecided expression. "Maybe she-he would be more appropriate."

Harry wagged his head side-to-side.

"Maybe just always say, The Professor," Harry suggested, "That way, if someone over-hears us when we aren't in the Room, they wouldn't know we aren't talking about one of the other professors, would they?" He shrugged. "We'll have to get in the habit of always referring to the other professors by name, but that shouldn't be too hard, right?"

She nodded and stood up, looking around the room. "Now what?"

He glanced around just in time to spot two Professor Hogwarts appearing over in the classroom area. After a brief blink of surprise and disbelief, he nodded his head in that direction. "Over there, I guess."

Hermione was equally surprised.

As soon as they were seated, The Professor on the left started.

"First, I need to know what you know." She waved a hand negligently. "I know what you should know, and I know about where you are, but to develop a schedule, I need exact information." The two professors waited for them to nod.

"Mr. Potter," said the one on the right, "you will work with me."

"Miss Granger," said the other, "you will work with me."

As Harry moved over to The Professor, he noticed a shimmering wall separated him from the other two. He could no longer hear what was said nor see anything more than the shadow of their outlines. His Professor Hogwarts smiled at him. "We will start with Charms. Show me every variation you know of for lumos and explain how it works."

They spent the morning working their way through the various Charms they had learned in First Year, as well as the theories behind them.

At lunch, Harry was not surprised to hear Hermione complain that she was appalled at how many details of theory she had forgotten. He was surprised at just how much he could remember!

The Professors called a halt at four in the "afternoon", and handed them each a thin book. "One of the skills you need is occlumency — the skill of protecting your mind from intrusions."

The two took the books and started to open them.

In a move that made Harry and Hermione both blink and stare, the two professors walked into each other, leaving only one.

"No, you will read those later. This way," the one that remained said and led them over to the armchairs. "Make yourselves comfortable."

Once they were seated, she explained, "The beginning of this skill is quite similar to the Muggle art of meditation. First relax, then close your eyes."

They did as instructed.

"Now, take a deep breath, and slowly let it out. As you exhale, let your worries and doubts go out with your breath." She had them repeat this several times. "Now, clear you mind of your concerns, and concentrate on your breathing. Nothing else matters, just your breathing. In . . . and out . . . in . . . and out."

Harry woke up as someone shook his shoulder.

The Professor had one hand on his shoulder and the other on Hermione's.

"Falling asleep, at first, is not an uncommon occurrence when learning occlumency. Let us try again. Listen to my voice."

After several moments, he heard, "Think about what we did yesterday, what you remembered, what you learned. Imagine a box labelled First Year Charm Lessons, and put those memories in that box." She began to name each spell they had practiced.

They continued in that vein until she announced, "Dinner time. After you finish eating, I suggest you play a game to relax."

It was a quiet dinner.

"My brain feels like soup," Harry said, after they finished.

"Hmm," Hermione replied, nodding.

"Any thoughts on a game?"

"Something simple," she said.

They ended up playing Exploding Snap

.o\O/o.

They reviewed Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and Herbology over the next three "days" — the Room supplied plants from Professor Sprout's Greenhouses for them. Naturally, there was far less of the hands-on fiddling that normal classes required.

Potions, they had been told, would be examined the next time they came to the room. Potions was much more complex a topic in that one year couldn't be reviewed in one "day" — not with a potion taking the better part of an hour or two to brew.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts," Professor Hogwarts explained, "has been taught haphazardly for the last thirty years. I will be teaching you what you should have learned in each year we revise, incorporating new information where needed."

It was gruelling work, but they managed. Fortunately, the Herbology was mostly theory, which freed up the extra time consumed by a competent DADA professor!

The big surprise was the morning of the fifth day. Instead of the classroom space they had seen in the previous four days, they found themselves on a beach, with ocean-waves crashing on the sandy shore in front of them. There was a pleasantly cool breeze from the water, bringing with it fresh, salty, humid air with a faint scent of fish.

If it weren't for the doors to their bedrooms standing in the sand in front of a dense jungle, they would have thought they were at a real beach.

It wasn't an English beach, naturally. The palm trees and hibiscus flowers appearing behind their rooms' doors were clearly tropical, and the sand underfoot was extremely fine! Plus, they could feel the heat from the sun beating down!

To Harry, it was oddly invigorating.

Professor Hogwarts seemed to walk out from behind the two doors. "I have noticed that periodic recreational and rest periods are required for both mental and physical health. I have selected a four-days of study-and-work and one-day of recreation-and-rest as the most optimal balance." S/he smiled at them. "This is a copy of a beach that a Muggle student had several pictures of from a vacation." S/he glanced up at the apparent sun overhead. "You needn't worry about getting a sunburn, only normal visible light is being projected, and the heat is from the warmed ceiling. The water extends out thirty yards." She looked both ways to the sides. "The room is twenty yards wide at the moment, but will extend further should the need arise." She looked back at them. "Today is a day of rest and play. We will repeat the four 'days' of study with the fifth 'day' off for the rest of this night in the Room of Requirement. Future nights will adhere to the same schedule unless circumstances require it be adjusted."

Professor Hogwarts pointed to table and chairs set in the shade of several palm trees. "Breakfast is available when you are ready for it." She headed back into the "jungle" behind the two doors.

"Excuse me, Professor," Hermione called out just before the Professor stepped behind the two doors.

Professor Hogwarts stopped and looked back at her.

"Can you get us a book or two from the library about soulmates?"

The Professor nodded and waved her hand at the table. "Those should answer your questions." A stack of several books appeared on the table.

When they looked back at The Professor, she was gone.

Hermione glanced at the wave hissing up the beach, then at the table. Then she squealed in delight. "Go on, Harry, change into a swimming costume," she said as she rushed back into her room.

Sighing, he turned back to his room. He didn't really want to change. His aunt Petunia had always said he had a disgusting body, which had made him very self-conscious. He was worried what Hermione would think.

But he also knew that if he balked, she would pester him until he finally gave in to her.

On the other hand, if he didn't go to change, she would surely notice a certain reaction of his to seeing her in such a small swimming costume.

Oddly enough, Dudley hitting puberty last Spring and discovering girls had started an era of détente between the two boys. His cousin had needed a place to stash his porno magazines, and the only room that they both knew his mother would never voluntarily enter was Harry's room.

Threatening Harry wouldn't work, Dudley was smart enough to figure that out, surprisingly. Harry could simply destroy the magazines and how would Dudley complain to his parents about it? Beat him up? He did that anyway.

Plus, ever since Harry had started Hogwarts, the only thing his aunt and uncle had ever raised against Harry had been their voices. It just wasn't fair, in Dudley's opinion.

Nevertheless, they had come to an agreement. Dudley hid his magazine in Harry's room and they both perused them at their leisure.

Lately, Dudley had added drugs of various kinds to his stash — which Harry had no interest in sampling.

So, Harry was no stranger to the nude female body. However, seeing Hermione in as near to that state as possible without her actually being starkers was a different matter entirely. Real life was not the same as a picture, especially when it involved a girl he knew quite well!

He hustled into his room. The thought of what she might look like in a swimming costume had affected him rather quickly, he was chagrined to note. While in there, he intended to do what boys his age had been doing for thousands of years in similar situations.

.o\O/o.

Author's Note: Consider what we know about the Room of Requirement. How do we know that the room doesn't consist only of a store room and that everything else that happens in it takes place only in the imaginations of the students in the room? They could all be dreaming about what happens in the room, and they would never know the difference. Thus, Hermione and Harry could be dreaming that they are being taught advanced magic in the room for twelve days, not actually interacting physically in a room where time is sped up! Dobby, of course, has been told to help keep up the charade.