Tmcd72: Thank you! I appreciate the support!
I'm sure they are happy for your welcome, and thank you for all the support. I loved writing about Blackstone. I had to research three different types of architecture to paint the right picture, and I still don't think I did it justice.
And I'm currently writing the next chapter. I love the enthusiasm!
Harry's eyes fixed on the dapper-looking stranger. His strong chin was covered by rugged stubble, and his long, shiny black hair was pulled back into a loose bun. Even from a distance, Harry saw the man's intense silver eyes—they matched Andromeda's. Sirius Black smiled at him, nodded, and with a friendly smile and shooing motion, gestured as the students left the Great Hall. A shocked and silent Harry was guided out by Hermione, who pulled him by the arm. When Harry and his friends arrived at Gryffindor Tower and he realized he was being dragged into his dorm, he stopped and turned around, nearly walking back out of the portrait hole to find and speak to, or yell at, his godfather—Harry wasn't sure which he wanted to do more. It took Ron and the twins restraining him, and Hermione sitting fully on him, to stop him.
"Tomorrow, Harry, tomorrow we can track him down and talk to him, attack him, turn his hair fluorescent pink—if you want. But right now, you've been through a terrible ordeal. We all have, with those foul creatures fluttering about. Please, Harry, let's go to bed," begged Hermione. He resisted at first as she pushed him towards his four-poster, but with Harry's eyes dragging, and his own growing apprehension about talking to his long-lost godfather, it didn't take much to convince Harry to go to bed.
The next morning, Harry woke to the ringing of the mechanical alarm clock that the boys' dorm shared. Bleary-eyed and tousle-haired, he went through his morning ablutions with the rest of his dorm mates, having to endure Seamus and Dean excitedly talking about the release of the new Firebolt, a topic that lasted them all the way down, seven floors, to breakfast. He quickly found his way over to Hermione, who had already made his plate and was already eating her own chosen breakfast.
"Good morning, you two!" came a familiar voice from behind them as Daphne strode up and pushed Ron straight down the bench so she could sit next to Harry, causing a disgruntled and befuddled shout of "Hey!" from Ron as he lost his balance and fell to the floor. This made most of Gryffindor House and Daphne herself burst out laughing. "How are my favourite lions doing this morning? I just had to get away from Slytherin! Tori is driving me mad. Luckily, she's too shy to come over here."
"We're fine," came an echoed call from the two Gryffindors. "I slept like the dead last night; after everything, I was exhausted," said Harry after he swallowed his food. The two girls nodded in agreement. "It's good she's excited, though. I was a nervous wreck my first day."
It was 30 minutes later when they all had their class schedules and were off to their first class. Transfiguration first thing in the morning was almost as good as Charms as a wake-up call. Students were always required to use their brains, and the class was loud, boisterous, and full of energy.
"This year in class, you will be focusing on mastering beginner transfiguration and starting intermediate-level spells. This will include complete switch visualization practice; the ability to complete a new transfiguration correctly the first time through internal visualization; cross-species switches, turning one animal into another, completely altering its behavior; and intra-material mediation—giving one material the properties of another, such as cushioning and hardening charms. We'll cover a few other things, but these are our main focuses. For the rest of class, I want you to read, or reread, the first chapter and write notes on it. There is no point in beginning more practical lessons on the first day of school." Molly Weasley was definitely coming into her own as a teacher. She seemed happier and far less stressed this time around; a year of experience makes quite a difference, it seems.
Charms class afterward went very similarly: a quick rundown of the syllabus with explanations of the course aims, and then either reading the textbook or reviewing the practical side of the previous year's spells. Everything was going great the first day. Harry quickly learned that he enjoyed Ancient Runes a great deal. Sadly, his good mood was shattered directly after class when they ran into Ron on their way to Arithmancy.
"That flaking little toadstool!" cursed Ron. "He messed up Hagrid's first class by insulting a hippogriff like an idiot and got a gash on his arm. Right in front of that Ministry auditor, too; just you wait, he'll try to have Hagrid fired."
"Who?"
"Who? Who?! Who else! Malfoy! The ignorant git." Ron said, throwing his arms up in the air.
"Like hell, he'll get Hagrid fired. Not if I have anything to say about it," supplied Harry.
"Yeah, I—" A chime sounded through the halls. "Damn! That's the warning, and I still have to find the North Tower!" Ron ran off in search of his class, allowing Harry and Hermione to find their own way to Arithmancy. Harry stopped and watched when he heard Tracey Davis calling Ron; both then sprinted off.
Thirty minutes into the class, and Harry could already tell that Arithmancy was going to be a difficult class. The teacher, Professor Vector, was almost as unyielding as Professor Binns, except she stopped to answer questions. But they had already spent an entire class learning about the basic equations for arithmetic principles—and, to Harry, it was like speaking Chinese. The math formulas and equations weren't difficult to understand or follow, but the meaning behind everything and the process of knowing which numbers meant what was a terrible quagmire of uncertainty. When Harry asked for clarification on whether a 28, being split into seven, should signify rain or drought, the answer should not have been, "Yes!" Still, Harry assumed clarity would come as the classes advanced.
Afterwards, Harry and Hermione fled back to Gryffindor Tower to relax. It was only the first day back, but Harry already felt like a wrung-out sponge. He found a two-person couch and quickly plopped down onto it, stretching his back out as Hermione sat next to him and started pulling out her books.
"Oh, come off it, Hermione!" said Ron. "You can't have homework already; it's the first day."
"Of course we don't have any homework, Ronald, but both Harry and I had several questions in Arithmancy that had very confusing or complex answers. We need to study and get as much practice as we can with what we can understand, or we will fail."
"I agree we need practice, but we won't fail the course, Hermione. You definitely won't; you're the most brilliant person in this school. Probably only the teachers could outdo you now, and that probably won't last longer than a year. Personally, I can't wait to see what Professor Lupin will teach us."
"Oh, didn't I tell you?" asked Ron, and with Harry and Hermione shaking their heads, he explained. "Well, I met him over the summer, didn't I? The twins and I stayed here quite a bit with Mum. He's the one that helped us with the map and everything. Well, Lupin is a Dark creature expert. And, according to Percy, it is 'the recommendation of the Ministry's Educational Commission that third and fourth-year students be taught how to defend against Dark creatures and only move to wizard-versus-wizard defense once the students are more mature.' The fact he actually speaks like that!" Ron said with an eye roll. "Anyway, according to Lupin, we'll be focusing on Dark creatures, building on the stuff Lockhart started last year. Should be fun, I reckon."
Harry, and to a lesser extent Hermione, looked excited about the prospect of increased practical classes.
The next morning saw a desolate start to the Gryffindors' day. Snape may have improved dramatically since their first year, but he was still a harsh and imposing teacher, and having Potions first thing in the morning saw many third-year Gryffindors not looking forward to the day. Harry and Hermione, not being among the downtrodden, sat at the breakfast table, poring over this year's Potions class, wondering just what potion he was going to start the year with.
They sat near Lavender Brown, who was talking to the Weasley twins, and Harry overheard part of their conversation.
"Come on, Lavender. You don't want to deal with that slimeball this early, do you?" said Fred.
"Yeah! No sane person would look forward to two hours with the greasy pillick this early. One bite of this and you'll be out of classes for the rest of the day!" George finished, flourishing a small square taffy at her. "It's not toxic! It won't hurt you. Just surprise Madam Pomfrey long enough to get you a note out of class for the day."
"Well…" Lavender seemed to be really considering it, and Harry decided to step in when she started to reach for it.
"Evanesco," Harry said, pointing his wand at the small, taffy-looking object, causing it to disappear and George to yelp in surprise.
"Hey!" George and Fred called out together. "We worked two months developing that!"
Harry took a Galleon from his school bag and tossed it to Fred. "Test it yourself, then."
"Five points to Gryffindor," called a voice from behind Harry, which he was unfamiliar with. Turning around, Harry saw the handsome, dapper face of Sirius Black. "Honestly, I heard you two were pranksters. You should have more class than to test your inventions on anyone but yourselves. You'll give hardworking, decent pranksters like the Marauders a bad name." Sirius huffed before turning his attention to Harry. "Glad to see you're not afraid to stand up for people, Harry, very much like both your parents, but especially your mother. She pulled the same move on me in our fifth year." The black-haired man gave a roguish grin.
Harry stared; he didn't know how to respond. Never had he been openly compared to his parents' actions before. "Err, thanks, sir." This elicited a small, sad smile from Sirius he gave a deep drawn out sigh Scratching The back of his head before speaking.
"In a different life, you'd never have called me 'sir,' and maybe in the future you won't. But I know you're busy—at some point, you could swing by Professor Lupin's office after classes. There's a lot I'd like to say to you." He sighed and started to walk away before Harry's call stopped him. "It's nice to finally meet you! And I'll swing by as soon as I can." At least Harry had something to do on the weekend.
After breakfast and the prerequisite staring contest with the Slytherin students, they were let into Snape's class. The dour man let them in, and Harry was surprised to see the chairs and tables rearranged into pairs instead of rows of three.
"Don't sit down just yet. There are certain developments we need to discuss. To better assist struggling students, the Headmistress believes we should be pairing the top-performing students with the correspondingly lower-performing students. To those intelligent enough to follow simple directions, I apologize for the inevitable drop in your grades. I assure you this was not my idea." Harry was paired with Crabbe, Hermione with Goyle, Daphne with Neville, and Malfoy with Ron. A shouting match erupted between the latter pair in under three minutes, stopped only when Snape sent silencing charms at them.
"Cease your senseless bickering at once! You're both stuck with each other, so I suggest you find a way to get along. In fact, we can discuss it over detention tonight, after dinner. Ten points from both your houses, and if I hear so much as a raised voice from either of you, it will be fifty!
Now, if we're done barking at one another like dogs fighting over a meat bone, then we can get on with the lesson."
Snape refused to let a double period go unproductively, and so the class reviewed ingredient preparation for the wit-sharpening potion most students brewed for the final exam the previous year. Harry learned that Goyle's failings in potions weren't actually from a lack of brainpower but a problem with his manual dexterity. Although the large boy wouldn't say as much, Harry suspected an unhealthy fear of sharp objects, for the boy all but refused to hold his ingredients still while cutting them. Harry solved this by taking the double period and teaching him a rather simple and easily broken sticking charm he had learned while in Mexico, "Ahuia." The last twenty minutes of class, after Goyle mastered the charm, were much smoother for their ingredient preparation.
Lunch that day was a chaotic affair as the Weasley twins set off a horde of extraordinarily malfunctioning fireworks. The Catherine wheels jolted in the air at random angles; the rockets flopped needlessly to the ground, only to spurt off in a random direction every few seconds. The firecrackers seemed to fuse with the dung bombs, unfortunately covering most of the Slytherin table with a heap of stinking fertilizer. The twins were caught and given three months' detention scrubbing the entire castle under Filch's watchful eye. The teachers were nice enough to only put Gryffindor back to zero points, and since the current leader, Ravenclaw, only had 30 points, they weren't that far behind. That didn't stop Harry, Hermione, or any other Gryffindor student from being put into fits of laughter by the twins' misfortune and admittedly wonderful (if it had worked) fireworks display.
Harry, Hermione, and Ron left the Great Hall as quickly as they could after finishing their meal, as did many other students. It was almost twenty minutes later when Professor Lupin and Mister Black arrived, ten minutes late.
Mister Lupin and Mister Black appeared to be dressed in complementary yet contrasting styles. Mister Lupin wore his usual shabby Muggle overcoat and a suit and waistcoat in shades of light and dark brown and tan. Mister Black, however, wore a black suede overcoat, a black suit, and a silk waistcoat with brown swirling patterns, and a light tan shirt. Both men wore expertly shined shoes, though Mister Lupin's were more lined and worn. The effect was intimidating. They made sure to tell the students not to underestimate one because of the other.
"Sorry, students, my apologies," Professor Lupin said, smiling and speaking in a soft and friendly tone. "Mister Black and I were tasked by the Headmistress to sort out the fireworks and subsequent mess in the Great Hall—an order I am quite sure was personally motivated." Sirius was snickering quietly. As he unlocked his classroom door and everyone filed in and found their seats (which were arranged in pairs and marked with names), Harry and Hermione sat together, Daphne was partnered with her friend Tracey Davis, and Ron with Neville.
"I would like to welcome you to Defence Against the Dark Arts. Or, as I will be referring to it for your year and my lower years, Dark Creature Defence. This year we will be learning new forms of defence against common 'dark' creatures, as well as some of the more rare ones. As a little taste of what we will be covering, I have a task that is quite difficult when done alone, but with such a large group of accomplished students, it should go rather easily and drive home an important lesson for everyone."
This morning's staff meeting, MisterFilch complained of a boggart that had taken up residence in a cupboard in the teachers' lounge. I saw this as an opportunity to give my third-years some practice. Now, before we head over, who can tell me exactly what a boggart is? The professor spoke smoothly and clearly, as if he had been teaching for years rather than a single day. And, of course, Hermione was quickest with her hand, which shot up so fast Harry was almost surprised it didn't pop out of its socket. "Yes, Miss Granger?"
Hermione looked surprised and put off by his already knowing her name. "It's a shapeshifter. When alone, no one knows what they look like, but when faced with a wizard, they take the form of what the person most fears," she replied.
"Very good, Miss Granger, and can your partner tell us exactly what defeats fear?" He looked over to Harry and met his eyes to clarify who he was addressing.
"Err… Laughter?" said Harry, rather lamely, unsure of his response; he couldn't quite remember that portion on boggarts from *Magical Creatures and Where to Find Them*.
"Very good, Harry. Laughter is what is needed to defeat a boggart. If you would all follow Mister Black and myself, we can continue in the staff room." After a short journey down a floor, they entered and saw Snape sitting in a chair, reading calmly, blatantly ignoring the rattling, chained-up armoire in the corner. The dour potions master closed his book and made to leave before being waylaid by Lupin.
"Severus! Please, no reason to leave on our account; an extra wand is always welcome."
"No, thank you, Lupin. I have no desire to watch this," Snape said before retreating, his black cloak billowing behind him.
"Well, more his loss, I suppose. Now let's continue. As I was saying in the classroom, laughter is the best weapon against a boggart. Now, most people cannot come up with a funny version of their own fears, and so I am now introducing you to a Muggle military concept: the concept of "battle buddies". In this class, you are partnered with a person you have been reported to get along with or work well with—not necessarily your friends, but someone you can work with and trust. Whenever you face a challenge in this class, you face it together. As such, I was hoping Mister Ronald Weasley and his battle buddy, Mister Neville Longbottom, would assist me with my little demonstration."
As the two nervous third-years walked forward, the armoire rattled more intensely. Neville was shaking.
"Now, as I said, in order to defeat a boggart, you must laugh. So you will start us off; the charm you will need is "Riddikulus"." It took about five minutes for the class to perfect it. "Good. Now, it's a simple spell. Just imagine something to make your target funny and cast the spell at the boggart; it's actually a form of transfiguration, so those with an affinity will have an easier time with it. Now, Neville will charm Ron's fear and vice versa. It is always wise to tackle dark creatures, especially boggarts, at least as a pair; you can manage alone, but having a partner you trust at your back is a lot easier."
"And safer. I still remember the one that Marlene McKinnon stumbled upon in that abandoned classroom on the fifth floor. Poor girl had been at it for nearly 10 minutes and was in a right state when Pe-a-a friend and I stumbled upon her. Every time she cast her spell, it transformed into another one of her fears and, well, with only one target to focus on, some of the more powerful boggarts can resist the Riddikulus charm. However, the more targets, the more agitated and confused they get until you're left with something utterly nonsensical or just funny," chimed in Sirius.
Lupin looked over at his assistant teacher and nodded in acquiescence. "Yes! I saw a boggart do that very thing; the creature got confused and turned itself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening. Now, Neville, what is it that you most fear?"
"Me? I—I don't know! I'm scared of everything."
"Just think deep down what your greatest fear or worry is," supplied Lupin supportively. "Would it help if Sirius and I shared ours?" At Neville's scared nod, they both continued.
"Well, my greatest fear isn't a physical thing but an event: being alone again, that I'm still locked in Azkaban and my mind finally broke."
"And mine is that my illness gets the better of me and I lose myself to it. Now, Neville seemed to be struggling, so Ron, why don't you share?" said Lupin.
"Err, spiders. I really, really don't like them."
"Simple enough for a fear, and many options to improve it with our newest charm," said the middle-aged man. "Now that you've had time to consider, Neville, what would you say so Ron can get some ideas?"
"I—I—I d—don't kn—know, sir," Neville said, hyperventilating at the apparent possibilities of his fears.
"Well, unfortunately, Neville, the best thing I can teach you in this class is how to face your fears with a lion's pride. So, on three, you're going to jump into the marked circle, and we will all see what Ron makes of your fear.
One.
Two.
Three! And Neville leapt, seeming to surprise even himself with his own daring. The chains on the armoire snapped as the doors flung open, revealing a pitch-black interior before slamming shut again. It seemed to sit there silent for a minute before four slender fingers slid from behind the door and slowly opened it. What was revealed was a pale, emaciated man, bent over and stooped, with wandering, unfocused eyes and wearing a fraying, thin, powder-blue robe and worn-down slippers. It wasn't only Neville who reacted to this man's appearance, but Harry noticed both professors expressing sour recognition.
The man's slow, meandering walk had the entire room staring as he slowly shuffled to Neville and, bending low over their fellow student, the shade of fear spoke in a near whisper that still echoed around the room.
"Mum told me what a disappointment you are, Neville, how weak you are, and how you'll never—" The thing emitted a choked sound just after Ron leapt forward and shouted, "Riddikulus!" The thing's robes twisted into the black and white robes of a priest, and its hair turned into a large, misshapen head—the man had the appearance of a friendly bishop preaching a sermon. But the hat kept getting bigger and bigger, and soon the hat toppled right over the priest, shutting him from view. Lupin pulled Neville from the ring. But still, the giant mitre sat there until some unknown force knocked it over, revealing a head-hole—an elephant-sized spider to Ron and the room at large—as it made its way, one hairy leg at a time. It scuttled toward Ron to induce more fear from the boy, but—
"Riddikulus!" called Neville. Suddenly, the spider had skates on all eight legs and scuttled, using each leg for balance. This made the entire class laugh, and Ron backed away. Then, all the pairs in the class were brought into the circle. Seamus's banshee was made into a rubber chicken by Dean after his severed hand did a tap dance. Parvati's mummy was unbound in a whirlwind by Lavender Brown after her jack-in-the-box shot out butterflies. Malfoy's black-robed figure was turned into a snowman that was blown away by the wind before reforming into a bottle filled with brown liquid, only for Malfoy to charm it into a swimming pool. Finally, Harry and Hermione were called, and a twelve-foot-tall mountain troll stepped from the armoire. Harry, taking inspiration from a completely bewildering tapestry he had found exploring the school last year, dressed the troll in a bright pink tutu and made it do several pirouettes before it deflated into a black mist that fled back into the cabinet. At that point, Lupin was about to intervene, but Professor Black put his hand over the professor's mouth, stopping him.
Finally, from the cabinet emerged not a troll, banshee, or dementor, frightful though they all are. In fact, nothing came from the armoire at all; the entire armoire transformed into a cupboard and staircase. The tiny door opened, revealing a small, broken figure clutching its chest and face as sobs racked its slight frame—sobs that had already lost sound, the young boy's voice giving out. Hermione stepped up and raised her wand, only to be stopped by Harry. "No, let me," he said calmly.
"My greatest fear is waking up back in my cupboard under the stairs one day, having this all be a dream my fractured mind cooked up after my uncle beat me too harshly. But I know how to make it funny…RIDIKULUS!" This terrible scene changed. Harry was jumping up and down on Uncle Vernon's massive stomach like a trampoline, clutching the all-too-familiar Hogwarts letter. This got a loud round of laughter from the crowd of children. Finally, Black let Lupin go. "Now, Neville, finish it off!" Neville stepped back into the circle; the gray-haired man formed again and tried to approach, but the man's robes grew too long and tangled around his feet, which were now standing on ice. He flailed his arms and legs, trying to keep his balance, and fell hard, spinning around and shattering into a thick black cloud of dust as Neville let out a loud and powerful "HA!" The dust faded. And everyone was surprised when a loud bell rang through the class, signaling the class change. As they were gathering their things and preparing to leave, Lupin called out the homework.
Speaking very fast, he said, "Everyone! I want a one-foot essay on what one of your other fears is and how to properly counteract it. I'm giving ten points to everyone who faced a boggart, and an additional ten to Neville for facing it twice, and five each to Hermione and Harry for answering my questions. Have a good rest of your day!"
As the students filed out, Harry, Hermione, and Ron hung back once he saw the other two making no move to leave. Harry approached the two teachers, looking at Mister Black. "You stopped him from stopping me," he said to Sirius before directing himself to Lupin. "Why?" was the young man's simple question.
Lupin looked awkward. "Because I thought that what you most fear must be Lord Voldemort, and, fake or not, I didn't think having that appear in class would be very safe." Harry appeared relieved.
"Good," the young lord breathed. "I thought that—"
"I do not think you are weak, Harry. Quite the opposite, in fact. I know you have an innate strength of will. Although I must say I wasn't expecting—"
"My childhood was... not pleasant. I don't remember most of it because of Dumbledore's meddling, which I'm grateful for. Actually, I don't need therapy for stuff that didn't happen," said Harry cheekily, which caused Sirius Black to snort.
"Your childhood must have been on par with mine. I wish I could forget it as well. Something else for us to discuss when you come around in a more private setting," the black-haired man smiled.
"But you all should get back to Gryffindor Tower and prepare for dinner! I have it on very good authority that the kitchens got hold of a particularly flavorful shipment of salmon and Dungeness crab." True to Mister Black's words, there was a seafood feast that night for dinner.
Before Harry realized it, he was facing his first weekend, and the talk Harry knew he needed to have with his godfather. Friday's classes had flown by with a busy day of Charms, Herbology, and a torturous but enlightening double class of Arithmancy. Now he lay in his four-poster bed; curtains closed against the morning sun that would shine directly into his eyes. He was hiding, he knew it, yet couldn't stop himself. The apprehension filling his chest made him nearly catatonic. Still, he wouldn't be able to hide forever. Five minutes hadn't gone by when his curtains were flung open to reveal Hermione. Her hair was somewhat lustrous and shining in the light.
"Good morning, Harry! Ron said you were awake but sulking, so I thought I'd come get you," she said, smiling.
He tilted his head to the side, still looking at her hair. "You've done something to your hair," Harry said, for he had never seen Hermione do anything to her hair, and she had indeed done something; his bushy-haired best friend was no longer bushy-haired. It was smoother and more lustrous, more of a cascade of tight curls than a nest of frizzy static.
"Oh! Yes! Lavender bought it. It's apparently a new formula marketed under "Sleek Easy," and she asked me to try it to see how effective it is. I rather like it, but it does take a rather long time to apply. "What do you think? You're the first person to actually pay attention," said Hermione with a bright smile.
"I think it suits you, but I like your natural hair."
"Oh, Harry... thank you. So, you're meeting Mister Black today?" At Harry's nervous nod, she continued, "Well, I'm here for you. So is Ron, as long as you don't have that meeting during lunch." Hermione was giggling at her own jest, which received a reluctant laugh from Harry as well. "When are you going?" she asked hesitantly.
"Lunch, funnily enough. Mister Lupin thought food would ease some of the tension. What do you want to do until then?" Harry looked at Hermione with hopeful eyes.
A few short minutes later, Harry found himself deep in conversation with Daphne and Hermione as the former taught the other two more about pure-blood etiquette.