Harry Potter and the Path of War

Harry Potter and the Path of War

Chapter Eight: Return to semi-normality

Harry awoke to bright sunshine burning through his eyelids, and he groaned, squinting his eyes shut as hard as he could. He really didn't want to get up and jog around Little Whinging today, he was too tired. Remus won't mind if I miss one jog he thought stupidly and rolled over, to snuggle into his warm and comfortable pillow again and go back to sleep.

However, when Harry rolled over, all he felt was soaking wet grass in his face, a few blades of which went straight up his nose and into his ears. That woke him up, and Harry sat up quickly spluttering, looking around in confusion at the dewy grounds around him, with the sun rising over the clear blue lake in front of him. He realised after a second that he wasn't in Little Whinging anymore, but back at Hogwarts, and had slept outside last night. He shivered, and then suddenly sneezed. I'm going to pay for this, Harry thought, and sneezed again. Looking at his watch, he saw that it had just gone six o'clock in the morning. Harry breathed a sigh of relief; with any luck, he could still get back to the dormitory and pretend he had been there all night, before Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville got up at seven.

Harry cursed as he got to his feet. What the hell was I thinking? He wondered, as he checked his Invisibility Cloak (which was now quite muddy, he noticed) was covering him completely and began to make his way up the lawn back to the castle. How could he be so irresponsible as to sleep outside by the lake all night, without telling anyone? If he had woken up a few hours later, everyone would have noticed that he wasn't there; Ron and Hermione would be worried sick, Snape would have more ammunition to throw at him for acting stupid, and everyone would be looking for him . . .idiot! He said to himself, and slapped himself round the top of the head.

As he trampled over the wet grass, still slightly groggy from just waking up, Harry thought about how strange it was to be getting up and not going for a jog; after all, he had been doing it for over six weeks now, and it had become part of his daily routine. He would have to find a different route to jog now that he was back at Hogwarts he supposed, and stopped for a minute to look around, to see where would be suitable. The Quidditch Pitch was a possibility he supposed, but it would get a bit boring just running round and round a circular pitch every morning. Around the lake seemed like a good idea, but it was a bloody big lake, and he wasn't sure he could cope with a run all the way around it. In the end, he decided to just go for it and see how far he could get around the lake, and resolved to do it the next morning.

Making up his mind Harry turned and continued on his way to the castle, but as he walked, he heard a shrill, bone-chilling cry from behind him, a cry which froze him in his tracks. There was complete silence for a second, where Harry felt he could actually hear his frantically beating heart trying to escape through his chest, before another two similar cries sounded through the Hogwarts grounds.

They sounded to Harry as if they were answering the first cry.

Taking a deep breath and gripping his wand tightly, Harry turned slowly around, and looked in the direction of where he thought the cries had come from; the Forbidden Forest.

As he surveyed the borders of the Forest from his position on the Hogwarts lawn, looking for the source of the evil-sounding cry, Harry could not see anything. He scanned the rest of the grounds anyway, in case he had been mistaken on where the cries had come from, but found nothing unusual. As he was beginning to wonder if he had just imagined the entire thing, he caught a small movement above the Forest. Looking up, Harry felt his breath catch in his throat.

There were three Thestrals hovering in the air above the Forest, their leathery black wings beating the air around them loudly, their tightly-fitting black coats making them look even more skeletal from where Harry was standing. They were no longer uttering their shrieking cries, but merely hovering above the trees in an upright position, the only sound being the swishing in the air of their powerful beating wings. Their bright white eyes were fixed, despite his Invisibility Cloak, on Harry.

Harry stood frozen for a minute, looking at the grotesque beasts dazedly, before turning and running, not stopping until he had pulled open the large oak doors of the Hogwarts Entrance Hall and slammed them again, reaching the safety of the interior of Hogwarts, panting, with his heart hammering madly in his chest.

Harry leant on the inside of the doors, trying to regain his breath and calm himself down, his mind filled with the image of the hovering Thestrals. Why were they just hovering like that? He wondered, and why were they looking right at me? He thought, remembering their white eyes looking straight at him. He was still considering this when he regained his breath and, standing up straighter, was greeted with the second sight that morning that made him stop in his tracks.

Professor McGonagall was standing at the foot of the marble stairs, fully dressed already, a tray containing the Daily Prophet, a stack of toast and a jug of pumpkin juice in her hands. She was staring open-mouthed at the large oak doors, which Harry realised she would have seen pulled open and slammed again seemingly of their own accord, as he was still wearing his Invisibility Cloak. She had probably heard his loud breathing as well, he realised.

Harry cursed silently at his stupidity. Why had he not looked to see if there was anyone in the Entrance Hall? He had been taught a spell by Remus over the summer that allowed him to see through doors and walls, and he could have used that. Or, maybe, he could of just not opened both of the large doors at the same time, when all he had to do was open one of them, and even then only slightly. Then again, he hadn't exactly been thinking when he had ran into the Entrance Hall. After all, he had been running away from giant bats that looked like they were about to swoop down and eat him for breakfast. . .

He was half-heartedly thinking about running for it when McGonagall suddenly dropped the tray she was holding (making a very loud noise, as the glass jug of pumpkin juice exploded on the marble stairs and the stack of toast went flying) and withdrew her wand quickly from her robe pocket, pointing it steadily at the middle of the oak doors, directly where Harry was standing. Harry gulped.

"Who's there?" McGonagall suddenly demanded in a steely voice, her eyes narrowed and her wand steady, pointed directly at his heart, Harry noticed. "Show yourself!"

Harry swallowed. Don't really have a choice now he thought (he reckoned McGonagall would curse him before he had a chance to run for it, now she had her wand out and trained on the doors, and he wasn't going to try and curse her), and pulled the Invisibility Cloak off, trying to ready himself for McGonagall's wrath, and half-prepared for her to start throwing curses at him as if he was an intruder anyway.

She did not, however, suddenly start attacking him, but lowered her wand. She looked relieved for a second, before narrowing her eyes at him. Harry braced himself.

"Potter?" she said, glaring at him suspiciously, and Harry nodded. "What are you doing outside at this hour?"

Harry swallowed, trying to think up a good excuse. "Er, well, I woke up early, so I went for a walk," he said, in what he hoped was a convincing voice. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"You went for a walk?" she repeated, looking disbelieving, and Harry nodded vigorously. McGonagall's eyebrows raised even higher.

"Well if you only went for a walk, Potter," she said, "why are you out of breath? And why is there mud all over that Invisibility Cloak of yours? Did you go for a walk on your back? Or did you roll down the lawn to the Quidditch Pitch for a quick game?"

Harry faltered, trying furiously to come up with another excuse and at the same time trying to look innocent, and McGonagall made a frustrated noise in her throat.

"Tell me the truth, Potter." Harry sighed, not having the energy to bother to lie anymore, and suddenly very angry with McGonagall, for no reason he could think of.

"Fine," he said, "I had a nightmare, about Cedric Diggory and the Department of Mysteries, and about the people who died yesterday at platform nine and three-quarters."

He left out the part about the prophecy, and avoided saying Sirius' name.

"I woke up and was scar. .I didn't want to go back to sleep, and I didn't want to stay in the dormitory, so I came outside for a walk, and I fell over in the mud by the lake. That's what I was doing outside at this hour."

Harry looked at McGonagall in defiance, ready for her to start shouting at him, but feeling strangely better for getting everything off his chest, despite still lying about the fact that he had slept outside all night. To his suprise McGonagall didn't start shouting at him again; instead her face softened slightly, a slight expression of pity on her face, infuriating Harry, but she still looked stern.

"Be that as it may, Potter," she said, "it is no excuse to risk your safety so early in the morning. Now go back to your dormitory until breakfast."

He could see the pity on her face even more clearly now.

Harry nodded, angry that McGonagall was feeling sorry for him, which he hated anyone doing, and quickly walked through the Entrance Hall past her and up the marble stairs, hearing her vanish her tray of now inedible breakfast as he did so. As he turned a corner, he suddenly realised that McGonagall had seen his Invisibility Cloak; she had even commented on it. Why didn't she consficate it? Harry wondered. Has Dumbledore told her I'm allowed it? Harry shrugged; it didn't matter, the fact is he had it.

He did not turn around or slow down until he reached Gryffindor tower, unsure whether McGonagall would change her mind about confiscating his cloak or punishing him for being out so early, although Harry wasn't sure if he could be punished for being out at six o'clock in the morning. Probably could be for sleeping outside all night though, he thought. Idiot.

As he approached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry groaned out loud, and suddenly felt like kicking himself hard. He still didn't know the password! What an idiot! He thought, and realized that he was getting quite tired of calling himself an idiot, especially so early in the morning.

Feeling he might as well try, Harry rapped hard with his knuckles on the portrait, waking up the slumbering Fat Lady as he did so ("young man, whatever are you out so early for?"), and was suprised when a timid voice called out.

"Who's there?" said the voice from the other side of the portrait, inside the common room. Harry recognized the voice, and sighed in both relief and exasperation.

"It's Harry," he said resignedly, and was greeted with a gasp and quick footsteps, and no more than a second later the portrait swung open to reveal Colin Creevey, a wide smile on his face as he looked at Harry.

"Hi Harry!" he said, as eagerly as ever. "What are you up so early for?"

"Oh, just fancied a walk, you know, get some fresh air and all that," he said vaguely, holding his Invisibility Cloak behind his back and trying to distract Colin from it.

"What about you?" he asked, and was confused when Colin suddenly looked embarrassed.

"Oh, I just. .well, I had a bad dream," he muttered. Harry looked closely at him.

"A bad dream?" he said suspiciously, and Colin looked down. "What kind of dream?"

Colin looked up quickly at him, and Harry was suprised to see that he had dark shadows under his eyes.

"It's nothing, just stupid dreams about You-Know-Who," he said, obviously trying to sound casual, but Harry stared hard at him, a feeling of dread in his stomach.

"You're having dreams about Voldemort?" he said sharply, making Colin jump backwards slightly. "What kind of dreams? What does he look like? Are you seeing him with his Death Eaters? Planning things? Talking to them? Torturing them?"

"No, nothing like that!" he said, looking terrified. "I never see what he looks like, he always has his hood over his face. I just se. .see him going to. .to my house, and. . .and hur. .hur-hurting my mum and dad, and my little sister. That's all I see, I just see it over and over and over again."

He looked close to tears now, looking down again, and Harry sighed, suddenly feeling terrible for upsetting him so much, but not really knowing how to make him feel better."I'm sorry Colin," he said quietly, and Colin looked up in suprise at his apology.

"I just had to know what kind of dreams you were having about Vol. .about You-Know-Who," he corrected himself quickly, not wanting to upset him anymore by saying Voldemort's name again. "It's just, if you were having particular dreams about him, they could have been important, and certain people would need to know about them."

Colin nodded and lowered his eyes to the floor, wiping his eyes violently as he did so.

"Sorry Harry," he mumbled to the floor, "just being a baby. Don't worry about it."

Harry gripped him by the shoulder suddenly, and Colin looked up at him, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face as he looked into Harry's.

"Don't be stupid Colin," he said firmly, "you are not being a baby. Would you call me a baby?"

Colin's expression turned to one of disbelief. "Of course not!" he said, looking incredulous that Harry would suggest such a thing of him, but Harry shook his head in disagreement.

"Well you are, right now. Do you want to know why I was up so early?" he said, unsure of why he was saying this to Colin Creevey, of all people. Colin looked curiously up at him.

"Why?" he asked. Harry sighed, letting go of Colin's shoulder and standing up straight again. He looked down at Colin in understanding.

"The same reason as you. You're not the only one who has nightmares, you know."

Colin's eyes widened. "You. .you as well?" he choked out, and Harry nodded.

"I've been having them all summer, really bad ones. So you see, by calling yourself a baby, you're also calling me one. And I know you don't think I'm a baby," he added, knowing Colin's hero worship of him. Colin shook his head vigorously.

"No, of course I don't! So. .so I'm not having these nightmares because I'm a baby, or because I'm a coward?" he said shakily, and Harry shook his head.

"No, it's neither of those things. And I'm sure it's not just you and me who are having nightmares because of that bastard," he growled suddenly, making Colin look at him in alarm. Harry fixed him with a hard stare.

"Remember that none of this is your fault. If something. . .if something does happen to your family, it's only one person's fault, and you know who that is." Colin nodded, looking terrified again, and then looked up at Harry with such fierce determination that Harry was startled.

"Are you teaching the DA again this year, Harry? I know you said on the train yesterday that you weren't, but. .well, it seemed like you were, sort of, fibbing, or holding something back, or, or something, you know. . ." Colin's voice dissolved into nothing, and Harry smiled, wondering how hard it must be for him to accuse Harry Potter of lying, and to his face as well. Harry was about to answer him when Colin started talking again, this time very fast.

"I mean, I suppose you had your reasons for not telling me the truth, or maybe you were telling the truth, but well, I really need your help, Dennis does as well, we're going to need it aren't we, and. ."

"Colin!" said Harry, holding up his hand to shut him up. "Colin, calm down for god's sake. I'll tell you the truth then, but if you tell anyone, anyone at all, then I'll never speak to you again. Ever. Understand?"

Colin nodded mutely, looking terrified at the prospect of Harry never talking to him again. Harry sighed, and directed Colin over to a dark corner of the common room. He wasn't exactly sure why he was telling someone this, and someone like Colin Creevey as well; he supposed it was because he knew how it felt to have important information held back from him, and he didn't want to go and do the same thing himself to someone else.

"I am going to teach the DA again this year," he said quietly to Colin, "but I'm not going to start it up officially, it's staying a secret.

"And," he continued, holding up his hand, as Colin smiled excitedly and opened his mouth to speak, "on no account is anyone going to be allowed to join unless I know I can trust them completely, both with keeping the DA secret, and with any other information I want to stay inside the group. That includes you Colin, and your brother as well. I can't afford for anything to happen like last year. The war has started now, and students need to be able to defend themselves, and the DA is the best way to do that at the moment. If anyone betrays it, or if you tell anyone what I just told you, the DA may have to come into the open, and people will die, because Voldemort will find out that people are supporting me, and he will go after them and their families. Do you understand?"

Colin nodded, looking shaken by Harry's grim words, yet there was a determination in his eyes that Harry had not seen before.

"I won't let you down, Harry," he said shakily, despite the strong determination in his eyes, and Harry smiled grimly at him.

"I hope not."

He said goodbye to Colin and started to make his way towards the dormitory stairs, checking his watch to see that he only had half an hour left before the other boys got up, when Colin's voice stopped him.

"Harry?" it said hesitantly, and Harry turned.

"Yeah?" he said, and Colin swallowed, looking like he was trying to build up all his courage to say whatever it was he was going to say.

"You're. . .you're going to beat You-Know-Who, Harry," he said, with such a strong belief in his face and in his words that Harry stared. "I've always known it, since I first read about you, that if he ever did come back, it'd be you who got rid of him in the end. You. .you will, won't you? I mean, you will be able to, won't you?"

Colin faltered at the sudden dark look on Harry's face.

Harry stared past Colin and into the fireplace behind him, the words of the prophecy coming to the front of his mind again.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. . ." But Voldemort was so powerful. .how could he ever have enough power to defeat him? Harry shook his head.

"I'll try my best, Colin," he said quietly, prepared for Colin's face to fall, but, strangely, that seemed to be enough for him, as he nodded, looking serious for once.

"Then you will, then," he said. Harry just nodded and told him to try and get more sleep, and turned his back on him and walked blindly up the stairs to his dormitory with his mind filled yet again by the words of the prophecy.

Luckily when Harry opened the dormitory door, he found Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville still fast asleep, snoring behind their bedcurtains. Harry crept over to his bed, noticing idly that his vomit from the night before had disappeared, and lay down on top of the covers. He looked up at the roof of the bed above him, and tried as hard as he could to clear his mind, knowing that distressing thoughts about the prophecy would only weaken his Occlumency defences and give Voldemort easy access to his mind and thoughts. Instead he concentrated on the disturbing sight of the three hovering Thestrals above the Forbidden Forest, looking directly at him. Why had they been looking at him like that? Harry wondered. It was clear to him that they could look through Invisibility Cloaks; it couldn't have been a coincidence that he was standing exactly where they were looking. No, they had definitely been looking at him.

Harry shivered. What was wrong with them? He thought. Last year the Thestrals hadn't had a problem with him, they had even seemed to like him; he had even ridden one all the way to London! So now, a few months later, why were they all just staring at him like he was food? It didn't make sense. He remembered seeing the rest of the Thestrals yesterday, carrying the carriages of students up to Hogwarts in the rain and lightning; they had all been staring at him then as well, and Luna had said they had been smiling at him. What was going on? Harry wondered, frustrated and confused with the Thestrals behaviour.

He shook his head, trying to forget about the disturbing creatures and everything else besides, and after a difficult struggle he managed it, closing his eyes and seeing the pure white light that he now, as a fully-trained Occlumens, saw everytime he shut his eyes.

Harry lay in relative peace for a while, his mind blissfully clear, until, at seven o'clock, his and Dean's alarm clocks went off, and the day began.

* * * * * * * *

"So Vanya's an Auror?" Ron said quietly, as Harry finished his story of what he had found out in Dumbledore's office, leaving out the part about his Spell Construction lessons with Dumbledore. They were sitting alone at the far end of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall at breakfast, where Ron and Hermione had been listening to Harry's account of his meeting for the last fifteen minutes. Their argument the previous night was now settled, after Ron had suprisingly taken Hermione off into a corner of the common room and apologised to her when she had come down from the girl's dormitory for breakfast. "And Dumbledore reckons he's not up Fudge's arse like Umbridge was?"

Harry nodded. "That's right. Kingsley's worked with Vanya for years, and he said that Vanya's definitely not a Fudge supporter, and that there's an equally good chance he's not a Death Eater either."

"Well Dumbledore's Veritaserum testing will tell us where his loyalties are," Hermione said quietly, although she had voiced her concerns earlier about whether the verisateum testing was right or not. "Anyway, he didn't really look like a Death Eater to me, just a very serious person. You know, just very grim, like he'd seen a lot of horrible things in his life. Like Moody."

But Ron was still frowning.

"I'm still not sure about him though," he said slowly. "Are there ways to get around telling the truth under Veritaserum? Like, you know, if you can do Occlumency really well or something? And besides, he was glaring round at everyone last night at dinner the same way Snape does." Hermione sighed.

"It's impossible to avoid telling the truth under Verisateum," she said loftily, in what Harry called her 'bossy voice'. "The most you can do is avoid answering the question, and only a handful of people have ever managed to do that, as it takes a lot of willpower. And besides Ron, just because he looks like Snape does, that doesn't mean he's a Death Eater."

"Well Snape is a Death Eater isn't he?" said Ron loudly, and Hermione slapped him on the arm and Harry put his hand quickly over his mouth, squeezing it shut. Ron looked angrily at them for a minute, before his eyes suddenly widened, obviously realising what he'd just said. Harry pulled his hand away from Ron's mouth, and the three of them looked around the Hall, but nobody seemed to have heard Ron's comment, luckily, being immersed in their own exciting first-day-of-term gossiping. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and looked at Ron and Hermione, who were now glaring at eachother.

"Honestly Ron," said Hermione, "how stupid can you be? Anyone could have heard you!"

Ron opened his mouth to speak, rubbing his arm where Hermione had hit him, but Harry cut him off before he could get a word out.

"Don't you two start arguing already, lessons haven't even begun yet," he said, and Ron and Hermione fell silent, still glaring at eachother. Harry helped himself to a bowl of porridge, and as he was eating the morning post arrived. His usual Daily Prophet was dropped in his porridge by the delivery owl, the porridge promptly jumping out of the bowl and on to his face and robes. Harry was about to wipe it off when the main headline of the newspaper caught his eye: Harry Potter saves the day at Platform nine and three-quarters!

"Ugh," Harry said disgustedly, throwing the paper away from him in to the middle of the table, "not more of that. You can read it if you want Ron."

Ron shrugged, and scraped the porridge off of the paper with his hand and began to read the front page. Hermione gave him a disgusted look, and unfolded her own paper, which had landed neatly in her nap.

"Scourgify!" Harry muttered, cleaning the porridge off of his face and robes, and stared hard down at the table and not at Ron and Hermione, as they read about what a great hero he was. After a few minutes reading Ron whistled.

"Wow Harry, I never knew you took on four Death Eaters at a time!" he said, sounding impressed. "That's not the story you told us!"

"That's because I didn't," Harry snarled, still not looking at Ron or Hermione, and getting angrier and angrier. "They're just trying to make me into some sort of bloody hero. It's not all about me is it?"

"Hmmm, let's see. . . 'Harry Potter, the saviour of the wizarding world'. .'The Boy Who Lived fights like an Auror,' says onlooker Geraldo Fishmonger'. . . 'Harry Potter's growing signs of leadership and power' . . .'Harry Potter's brave and self-sacrificing stand against You-Know-Who at platform nine and three-quarters' . . .and that's just the first three pages! Wonder what's on the next page, eh superboy! Oh, that's better!" Ron exclaimed, and Harry looked up at him. He watched Ron's eyes get brighter as they travelled quickly down the fourth page of the paper, and by the time he had read it he had a huge grin on his face. He passed the paper to Harry.

"Here, have a look at that," he said, grinning "you'll like that."

Harry gave Ron a suspicious look, but Ron just carried on grinning. Hermione, sitting next to Harry, looked down at his paper to see what page he was on and flicked to it in her own paper. Harry himself looked down and immediately saw the headline; Is this the end for Fudge's Ministry? Making a noise of excited curiousity, he quickly flattened out the paper and began to read.

'The invasion and consequental mass murder of Hogwarts students and parents at Platform nine and three-quarters by You-Know-Who and his followers yesterday spells the end for Fudge's reign as Minister of Magic, according to many political commentators and insiders within the Ministry it emerged last night. The Ministry's complete lack of defences in place at the platform to prevent such a massacre has been met with widespread outrage and anger throughout wizarding Britain. 'Cornelius Fudge should be thinking very carefully about his position as Minister of Magic,' said Almed Detourt, a leading member of the Department of Magical Transportation early this morning from his desk. 'It is the Minister of Magic's responsibility to provide adequate protection for the students of Hogwarts until they reach the station of Hogsmeade, and if we cannot trust our current Minister to provide this protection, a new Minister must be sought, who will not fail both ourselves and our children in this vital aspect of safety.'

Mr Detourt's was not the only cry of outrage aimed at Minister Fudge. 'Other aspects of the Minister's defences against the threat of You-Know-Who and his followers must be questioned following this appalling event,' declared the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement

Madam Amelia Bones. 'While my Department is doing everything it can to ensure the containment of this threat, we cannot possibly expect to contain it fully without the support of a fully competent Minister of Magic behind us. We can only do so much'. Many other influential members of the Wizengamot have also expressed their concerns about Fudge's competence as Minister of Magic, and it is not only leading members of the wizarding community that have expressed these concerns; it has been understood by this reporter that Mr Fudge's private secretary is currently suffering from servere burns in St Mungos, from the amount of Howlers aimed at Mr Fudge since the battle and massacre of Platform nine and three-quarters. The Minister's private office has consequently been shut following this.

The majority of the wizarding community of Britain is still coming to terms with it's anger and feelings of disappointment and betrayal in Fudge and his government by their ignorance over the past fifteen months of the imminent threat of You-Know-Who, who has been, according to Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and the Boy Who Lived Harry Potter, at large since last June. Following this outrageous year-long policy of ignorance and denial, it is this recent shocking lack of defence at the meeting place of innocent children that has finally inspired many to declare that Fudge's reign as Minister of Magic is now over. It is the opinion of this reporter also that we, the wizarding community of Great Britain, should begin our search for a new Minister of Magic; one that will not fail us, and one that will protect us from the threat that these dangerous terrorists pose to our society'.

Harry leant back from the table and breathed out deeply. Hermione too leant back, having finished the article at the same time as Harry, and she was frowning. Ron was still smiling.

"Oh it's not that excellent Ron," she snapped, making Ron's grin falter, and causing him to stare at her incredulously.

"What? It's 'not that excellent'? Hermione, do you want Fudge as Minister of Magic? We might've been able to have You-Know-who under control by now, if it weren't for Fudge!" Hermione sighed.

"You're missing the point Ron. Yes, if Fudge wasn't in power we might have been in a better position, but that's happened now, we can't do anything about it. What I'm worried about is that when Fudge is kicked out, which he inevitably will be, there's going to have to be elections for a new Minister. And then there's the possibility that a Death Eater might become Minister of Magic." Ron eyes widened in realisation, and he nodded, but still looked as if he didn't entirely agree with Hermione.

"Well yeah, there is that risk, but there's also the fact that a brilliant new Minister could be elected, who'll actually fight You-Know-Who instead of just pretending he doesn't exist. We could wind up with a Minister who uses all the Ministry's power against You-Know-Who, and that includes like two hundred Aurors or so. It's worth the gamble, isn't it? Anyway, I'm sure they'll be tests and stuff to make sure everyone who runs for the election is alright though. No Death Eater's going to become Minister of Magic."

Ron nodded to himself as if that was the end of the matter, but to Harry's eyes he didn't look too sure. Hermione was looking at Ron strangely, and she as well did not seem very confident that a Death Eater could be prevented from becoming Minister of Magic. Harry swallowed with great difficulty as he thought about it; "A Death Eater might become Minister of Magic". . .or Voldemort could put the new Minister under Imperius. . .maybe Fudge was already under Imperius. .

"Timetables!"

Harry jumped, twisting quickly, both in his chair and in his thoughts. Behind him stood Professor McGonagall, who glared down at him. Harry squirmed, remembering their encounter only a few hours ago. Maybe she had changed her mind about punishing him. . .

However, it appeared that she hadn't changed her mind. "Don't be late for my lesson, you three," was all she said, giving them their timetables before turning back to the staff table. Harry reached for his timetable to see what lessons he had today, and quickly found them; Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, double Charms, and Spell Construction.

"Got Vanya first," Ron said, "that should be interesting. An Auror for a teacher, eh? Maybe we'll actually get to use our wands in DADA this year, god forbid."

"Hopefully," Harry muttered, looking down his timetable for the rest of the week. He noticed he had Healing tomorrow, with someone called Healer Elfrida.

"Excellent!" Ron said suddenly, making Harry and Hermione look at him curiously.

"I've got the first two periods tomorow morning off," he said as an explanation. "Have you two?"

"No, we've got Double Potions," Hermione said briskly, making Harry groan, and Ron grimace.

"Tough luck mate," he said, slapping him on the back and smiling grimly. "Double Potions first thing in the morning. Least you got in, though."

Harry looked at him; evidently, Ron was still upset that Harry had got in and he hadn't. Hermione wisely did not say anything, although she looked like she was bursting to do so. Harry, also feeling it was better to say nothing to Ron, returned to his Daily Prophet.

As he read further articles on the "Battle of Platform of Nine and Three Quarters" (which it seemed to have been officially termed now), on how he had apparently 'rallied those brave few to his cause', and how Voldemort had fled the scene 'in the face of Harry Potter's fury', Harry realized vaguely that he was beginning to feel angrier and angrier. And when he saw that, twelve pages in, the names of the victims had still not been mentioned, he became aware that his hands holding the paper were shaking violently, and his vision was starting to go blurry. He could no longer see the paper in front of him, and the Great Hall was beginning to move around. .the paper in his hands seemed to have become a big black and white blob. . .

Those bastards, he thought, hearing the paper rustle loudly in his trembling hands, I'm no hero. .

"Alright, that's enough!" said a voice in front of him, and Harry felt his hands suddenly become lighter. Blinking rapidly, he saw that the paper had been ripped out of his hands by Ron, sitting across from him with a angry and anxious look on his face. "Stop reading that crap, it's just doing you're head in."

"Ron's right, Harry," said Hermione quietly from his right, putting a calming hand on his arm, "you can't keep reading this if it's going to do this to you."

Harry nodded numbly, and let his hands drop to his lap. Hermione patted his arm, and Harry turned to see her looking anxiously at him, with Ron across from him with an identical look on his face, except his was more riddled with anger on his best friend's behalf. His head relatively clear now, Harry smiled weakly at the two of them, wondering what he'd done to deserve such great friends.

"Sorry about that," he said to the two of them, trying to forget his anger over the Prophet. "Just got carried away."

They looked sceptically at him, so Harry smiled at them, in what he hoped was a reassuring way.

"Look I'm fine now, okay? Come on," he said, trying to lighten the mood, "let's go see if we can use our wands in DADA this year."

Ron snorted.

"Oh but I'm going to miss learning about Defensive Magical Theory oh so much," he said in a mock-sad voice, and Harry and Hermione laughed, making Ron grin. The three of them shouldered their bags and made their way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom, the depressing words of The Daily Prophet effectively gone from their minds.

Or gone, at least, from two of their minds; one of them continued to go over the same eight words in their head, doubt and fear gnawing them as they did so.

'Harry Potter, the saviour of the wizarding world.'

* * * * * * * *

When Harry, Ron and Hermione arrived at the entrance to the classroom, they found a large group of students assembled at the door, chattering to eachother excitedly. The three of them joined the back of the queue.

"What do you reckon he'll be like then?" said Ron to the two of them, and Harry frowned.

"Dunno," he said, "hopefully he'll be alright."

He was still having trouble forgetting the words of the Prophet, and shook his head to stop thinking about it. "What about you, Hermione?" he said, trying to distract himself.

"I'm not sure," she said, biting her lip. "I think he's definitely going to be. . .well, I think he'll be intense, really, judging on how he was in the Hall last night. It just came across in his body language. And I think. . "

But Harry and Ron never got to find out what else Hermione thought, and Harry finally managed to get rid of the haunting words of the Prophet in his mind, because at that moment footsteps were heard at the end of the corridior from which the three of them had come. Looking up Harry saw Professor Vanya striding down the corridor towards them, his black robes billowing out behind him, making him look remarkably like Snape in Harry's opinion. When he reached the class and stood silently in front of them, a few students gasped at his scar, which started above his left eye and diagonally went down over his eye and mouth to the middle of his chin. He looked at the class for a minute expressionless before sweeping past them and into the classroom without a word, the door opening by itself as he approached. Harry and the rest of the class looked uncertainly around at eachother, wondering whether they should go in or not, when a low and quiet voice was heard from within the room saying "enter." The class, still looking at eachother uncertainly, entered slowly.

There were only three seats left when they entered the room; the seats in the front row. Vanya was staring at them standing there, and they scrambled for their seats. As Harry did so, he noticed Malfoy glaring at him from the back row, where he was sat with Crabbe and Goyle. Harry glared back at him.

He was broken out of his glaring by a sudden hard tug on his robes by Hermione, which made him realise that he was still standing up, and that the whole class was staring at him, including Vanya. He quickly sat down, feeling like an idiot, and got his wand and textbook out quickly. Hermione sighed in exasperation.

Vanya was now leaning against the front of his desk rubbing his chin, looking down on the class with a calculating look, as if he was sizing them up. As Harry was beginning to feel irritated with this, Vanya spoke, making eye contact with each student as he did so.

"This year," he began, in a quiet voice, though they caught every word, "you will begin your NEWT level Defence Against the Dark Arts studies. Every single one of you have achieved at least an 'Exceeds Expectations' grade at OWL level Defence Against the Dark Arts, and so I am expecting a certain degree of competence from you. I will be your teacher for your NEWT level Defence Against the Dark Arts studies, and not merely your teacher. At times, I will be your teacher; at others, I will be your guide, pointing you in the right direction; at others, I will be your assistant, and, at others, I will be the pupil, and you the teacher."

Ron and Harry looked at eachother in confusion, but before curious whispers could break out across the classroom Professor Vanya continued speaking. Harry glanced to his side; Hermione's eyes were shining, her full attention on Vanya.

"There will be several different sections in this course," he continued, "none of which you will already be familiar with, and none of it which I will prepare you for. For many sections of this course I will not even tell you that we are going to study them until we do, bar a few exceptions. Learning to deal with unexpected situations is a skill I expect you all to accomplish by the end of the course, as well as many other skills, skills that may very well save your life one day. As I hope you all now realise, not every section in this course will be on a normal teacher/student level. You will be working independently without the guidance of a teacher much more than you are used to, preparing detailed projects and the like. You will learn to think for yourself and use your own initiative more rather than simply being spoon-fed by a textbook or a teacher, although that will, inevitably, come into the course. You will learn how to make the best of any situation that requires you to use your Defence Against the Dark Arts skills, and how to analyse these situations in the best possible way.

"Most importantly you will learn how to fight, and fight you shall. I will train you to fight as well as I possibly can at NEWT level, and at the end of the course I expect every single one of you to be at a level that would give you a realistic chance of being considered for an Auror placement. If even one of you cannot show this in the NEWT final exams, I will fail the entire class, as I have the power to do. If doing well to save your lives seems too unreal to you, as it will to most of you children, maybe that will bring the importance of you perfecting this course home to you. Do you want the rest of your class baying for your blood, because you didn't work as hard? Want that on your conscience? I didn't think so.

"Ultimately it is my aim in this course to prepare you as strongly as I can for your entry into the wizarding world away from the safety of this school, where it is probable that you will come into contact with the Dark Lord's followers, or perhaps even the Dark Lord himself. I assure you, without the help I am offering you, when you come into contact with a Death Eater, or even You-Know-Who himself, you will die. You need this training."

Vanya sat down on top of his desk, folding his arms and staring down at his class indifferently, ignoring the horrified looks on most of the student's faces.

"Any questions?"

The class was completely silent. Harry glanced around. Many of the students looked completely scared out of their wits; Lavender and Parvati both seemed to be trying not to cry, Seamus looked like he was considering jumping under the table and never coming out again, and Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley were looking warily at the door, as if they expected Voldemort and his Death Eaters to burst through it at any second. Draco Malfoy looked bored. Neville, sat alone at the table behind Harry, looked scared but determined, as did a few others around the room. Harry nodded at him before turning to look at his friends. Ron looked angry, and was glaring at Vanya (probably because he called us children, Harry thought), and Hermione looked torn between tears, fear and anger. Vanya spoke again.

"I make no apologies for what I just said," he said, looking at them each in turn. "You may feel it is harsh, but the world is harsh. You must learn this; otherwise, you will not survive.

"Now," he said, standing upright and withdrawing his wand, "let's get to work."

The class suddenly looked very nervous.

"One thing that we are going to be doing in this course that I will tell you about beforehand is this; we will be having regular Duelling lessons. Once a week, on the Wednesday morning double period to be precise, the entire lesson will be devoted to actual Duelling. We will begin this practice today. Stand up, and form a line at the back of the room."

Ron looked at Harry in alarm, evidently remembering that Vanya was an actual Auror, and Harry shrugged. He, Ron and Hermione quickly made their way to the back of the room with the others. Neville tripped over his stool as he stood, looking nervous, and Justin Finch-Fletchley walked into the side of his table. Hermione looked apprehensive, Harry noticed, as he took his place with the rest of the class at the back of the room.

Vanya flicked his wand suddenly, and the tables and chairs quickly flew to the sides of the room. Harry felt Hermione tense next to him, Ron take a deep breath, and heard Ernie Mcmillan utter a small whimper.

"Now," said Vanya, "you will each be Duelling me today, instead of eachother, which is what you will usually do in the Duelling lessons. I wish to see how well you would perform against someone far beyond your normal level of combat."

Vanya seemed to put a menacing threat behind these last few words, and Harry heard Dean Thomas gulp from a few places down the line. Vanya smiled strangely, and Harry felt the class take a collective breath, although he himself stayed calm.

"Alright, let's start on this side," Vanya said, nodding at the other end of the line to where Harry, Ron and Hermione were standing.

"And you are?" Vanya questioned, looking to his right at someone who Harry could not see.

"Draco Malfoy," the person replied, and Harry tried, and failed, to prevent a gleeful smile coming over his face. This is going to be good, he thought, Malfoy getting knocked about by an Auror. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ron grin too.

"Lucius Malfoy's son?" Vanya questioned, and Harry barely heard Malfoy's quiet reply of yes. It sounded like he was gritting his teeth. Vanya made no further comment.

"To the front of the room, Mr Malfoy," he said quietly, and Harry saw Malfoy step out of line and walk silently up to the front of the room, withdrawing his wand as he walked. Vanya too walked to the front of the room and gestured for Malfoy to stand in line with him face to face, although Harry noticed Malfoy was only up to Vanya's nose.

"We bow to eachother, Mr Malfoy," Vanya said, making the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand up, remembering someone else saying those words. "Come, the niceties must be observed . . . Dumbledore would like you to show manners . . Bow to death, Harry. ." Harry shook his head, and brang his mind back to reality. Hermione turned to him anxiously, but he mouthed I'm fine, and she nodded and looked to the front of the room again. Harry smiled at her concern, and looked back to Vanya and Malfoy, who were now ten feet away from eachother at separate ends of the front of the classroom. Both had their wands raised. Harry grinned; Malfoy won't know what's hit him.

"On the count of three," Vanya said quietly, his eyes locked on Malfoy. "One . . . two . . . three . ."

"Protego!" Malfoy said quickly, creating a shield around himself immediately, and it was lucky he did for less than a second later a red light had smashed forcefully into it which made him stagger backwards. He raised his wand immediately.

"Stupefy!" he cried, but Vanya simply sidestepped the spell looking bored, and said almost casually, "Expelliarmus!"

Malfoy however dodged the spell, although it was a close thing; it seemed to have hit the sleeve of his robes. Vanya sent another disarming charm at him, but Malfoy dodged it and cried, "Prosterno!"

The spell to Harry's suprise hit Vanya in the arm, but didn't knock him down as Harry knew it was meant to, but merely made him take an awkward step backwards. Malfoy raised his wand again, but Vanya had already sent a stunning spell at him. It hit him square in the chest, and Malfoy fell backwards on to the hard floor, knocked out.

Many of the class were sniggering, including Ron, but Harry was now troubled. Malfoy had actually got a hit on an experienced Auror, in an equal duel . . .he's a good duelist Harry thought, realising suddenly that he had never really had a proper duel with him, without something happening to stop it before the end. Harry looked at Hermione, who gave him a meaningful look; we'll talk about it later. Harry nodded.

Vanya had now revived Malfoy and pulled him to his feet, handing him back his wand which had rolled away when he had fallen. He shook Malfoy's hand briefly, looking at him with narrowed eyes, before gesturing for him to rejoin the line of students. Malfoy looked shaken to Harry as he watched him walk back to the line, but when he made eye contact with Harry he smirked widely, looking as cocky as ever. Harry noticed, to his immense irritation, that he was no longer missing any teeth.

"Next!" Vanya said from the front of the room, and Crabbe lumbered towards the front of the room. One disarming charm later, it was Goyle's turn; one impediment jinx later, and it was Blaise Zabini's turn.

As the duels progressed, not one person managed to duel with Vanya as well as Malfoy had. Most students had gone for simply trying to block or dodge all of Vanya's spells, and had all been hit on the second or third one. Seamus had simply tried to run away from Vanya, ducking behind the tables and chairs at the side of the room, before Vanya had stunned him with a well-aimed spell. The others had attempted to attack Vanya instead of just defending themselves, and had all been hit after Vanya had sidestepped their first spell and sent a quick spell back at them.

"Next!"

Harry turned to see Neville walking forwards, his wand arm shaking. Everyone, including Neville, knew the drill by now; walk to the front of the class and bow to Vanya as he bowed to you, step five paces back from eachother and listen to him count to three, and then duel.

"One . . . two . . . three . . Durus Pulsus!"

Neville dodged the spell and raised his wand to attack, but was forced to duck when Vanya quickly shot another spell at him. He jumped to the side still in a ducking position and fired a spell at Vanya, but missed by miles, forcing Ron to yelp and duck as well. Vanya shot a confundus charm at his chest and Neville pulled his entire body sideways, the spell just grazing his side, and pointed his wand again at Vanya.

"Stupe. ."

"Expelliarmus!"

Vanya's disarming charm hit Neville in the arm, and his wand flew in a wide arc and into Vanya's waiting hand. Vanya walked over to Neville, who was now sweating profusely and breathing hard, and gave him his wand back. He then shook Neville's hand hard.

"Excellent," he said, "best so far. Excellent manuevouring. Back in line. Next!"

Neville walked back, looking dazed, and bashfully pleased with himself. The entire class was staring at him incredulously, and Ron in particular looked completely gobsmacked. Malfoy snorted, and Seamus patted Neville on the back as he rejoined the line, saying loudly, "that was much better than Malfoy, Nev!"

Harry smiled to himself, and looked down the line. It was only Dean, who was going forwards now, then Ron and Hermione, and then it was his turn.

Harry secretly smirked to himself. He had been training with Aurors in Duelling all summer, and he was pretty sure he could give Vanya a run for his money. We'll see who's a child he thought, thinking up a strategy for his duel with the Auror.

But then Harry remembered something Moody had said to him during one of his lessons in the summer, something about keeping his new talents under wraps. . .

"Don't show your hand until you have no other choice."

That was it, Harry thought. He had told Harry that, although he had all these new skills, he shouldn't show them off in front of people who could tell his enemies about them. Apparently he should try to look as weak as possible, so they underestimated him. "Lull them into a false sense of security," he had said, and Harry had to agree it was a good idea, but it didn't mean he had to like it.. So, Harry decided grudgingly, I won't duel as well as I could do against Vanya. Don't show your hand. Right. Got you.

But then. . .

Hadn't Dumbledore said that Vanya was most definitely not a Death Eater, and more than likely not a supporter of Fudge either? Who would he tell, if Harry duelled exceptionally well against him, or even beat him, as he had beaten Kingsley a few times? No, Harry decided, I'm going to duel as well as I can. Can't let Vanya get away with calling me a child. Can't let Malfoy show me up either. . .

And then Harry remembered:

Malfoy.

Damn it.

He had forgotten about Draco Malfoy, who was definitely in a position to tell Voldemort about his new talents. Even if his father was in prison, he was sure Malfoy had contacts amongst the Death Eaters, ready to tell them immediately when he heard something juicy about Dumbledore or Harry. He may even be one himself Harry thought, although he found this unlikely, considering Malfoy's age. But he'll still be able to tell Voldemort about my duelling, he realised irritatingly.

Harry sighed dejectedly. Just going to have to grit my teeth and do it he thought, annoyed at the fact that he couldn't show Vanya how good a dueller he was, or pay him back for calling him a child. I'm still going to do better than Malfoy though, he thought stubbornly, even if I do have to lose.

"Ennervate."

Harry looked up just in time to see Vanya reviving Hermione, who he had apparently stunned. He gave her back her wand and pulled her to her feet, shaking her hand as she stood shakily. Harry saw him say something quietly to her, but couldn't hear what was being said. Hermione smiled however, and started walking back towards the line. Vanya looked at Harry, and his eyes lit up. Harry stared back at him expressionless, although inside he was smarting because he wasn't allowed to try his best.

"Next!"

Harry took a deep breath, and began to walk forwards. Ron patted him on the back as he went. He gave Hermione a small smile as he passed her, and she mouthed good luck at him. Harry snorted to himself. Like he needed luck when he was losing on purpose. . .

"So Harry Potter," said Vanya quietly, as Harry stood in line with him, vaguely noticing that he was the same height as his professor. "Let's see if the legends are true. Ready to duel?"

Harry nodded, not saying anything, and withdrew his wand. They bowed to eachother, Harry remembering Nate's advice from the summer to never take your eyes off of your enemies' face when bowing to them, and turned and took five paces back from eachother, making them ten feet apart. Harry took another deep breath. Don't show your hand until you have no other choice. He sighed, accepting that he was going to lose, but determined to at least put up a good fight for a few minutes. He assumed his usual duelling stance, his wand held high above his shoulder and and his other hand pointed nails first at his opponent's heart, and braced himself for whatever Vanya threw at him.

"One . . . two . . . three . . Percutio!"

"Protego!" Harry cried, blocking the spell, and ducked Vanya's next spell. He fired an impediment jinx at Vanya, not expecting it to hit him, and was not proved wrong. Vanya jumped lightly to the side, missing the spell, and fired another spell at Harry, who blocked it with the slashing movement that Nate had taught him. Vanya ducked the deflected spell from this movement and Harry jumped backwards, beginning to circle Vanya, who began to do the same thing to Harry. I've got to hit him once to be square with Malfoy, Harry thought, as he circled around the classroom, I've already lasted longer than him. .

"Sopor!"

Harry barely put up a shield in time to stop the spell, and berated himself for losing focus. Just got to hit him once. .

"Expelliarmus!" Harry cried, pointing his wand at Vanya, who blocked it quickly. This, however, had been Harry's plan, and as Vanya fired off his comeback spell, Harry sidestepped it and cried, "Durus Pulsus!"

The spell knocked Vanya forcefully into the back wall of the classroom, but he recovered quickly and sent a quick stunning spell at Harry. Harry put up no defence, feeling he'd at least proven he was a better Duellist than Malfoy, and a second later he felt nothing at all as he fell to the floor stunned.

"Ennervate."

Harry sat up quickly, now used to the feeling of being stunned from his summer lessons, and allowed Vanya to pull him to his feet and give him back his wand. He did not, however, give Harry any words of praise, as he had done with Neville (and presumably Hermione), but merely glared at him.

"Stay behind after class, Potter," he said coldly. "Now get back in line."

Harry stared at him, wondering what was wrong with him, before coming to his senses and walking back to the line. He noticed that some people averted their gaze as he looked at them. Malfoy was looking at him with a look on his face that Harry didn't like; it looked calculating, somehow. Parvati and Lavender were looking at him strangely, and Ron, Dean and Seamus were staring at him with their mouths open. Harry ignored them, got back in line next to Hermione (who was staring at him in suprise) and stared hard at the floor, wondering if perhaps he'd gone a bit too far in proving he was better than Malfoy.

He was distracted from his thoughts by the sudden scraping sound of wood on stone, as Vanya made all the tables and chairs return to their normal places, and told them to sit down. Harry made his way to his place and sat heavily, stuffing his wand back in his pocket and staring at the worn wood of the table below him.

"Well," Vanya now said, "that's your first lesson in Duelling with me over. I hope you learnt something, and I hope you all now see what you are facing in this course. Needless to say, I am very disappointed that, out of thirty-two students, only five of you actually managed to put up a decent fight. Thirty-two duels in less than twenty minutes. Pathetic. I expected better of you all. Sharpen up, all of you. Next time I won't go easy on you." The class looked incredulously around at eachother as Vanya glared round at them all, before shaking his head slowly.

"Now, it's to the theory; get out your textbooks and read and make notes on chapter two Duelling Techniques. Get to work."

Harry got to work immediately, not looking up once. He could hear his name being said in poorly whispered conversations throughout the room, before Vanya told the class that the next person to speak would have a silencing spell put on them for the rest of the day, and the class promptly shut up.

Harry was grateful for the silence.

After an hour he finished making notes, and sat in silence until Vanya told everyone to put their quills down.

"That concludes today's lesson," Vanya said, as people shut their textbooks and put away their quills. "Homework; look up and learn ten spells appropriate for Duelling combat, and make a list of what spells you have learnt, and how long it took you to perfect each one. Work in pairs, but you need ten spells each, not ten between two. You will be performing them on eachother next Wednesday. For this Wednesday we will be Duelling again, but this time you will be Duelling eachother. Class dismissed."

Harry told Ron and Hermione that he'd catch up with them in Transfiguration (knowing full well they would wait for him anyway) and walked up to Vanya's desk as the rest of the class filtered out, many looking fearfully at Harry as they passed him. Harry sighed wearily and stared hard at the wall behind Vanya's desk, determined to ignore the stares of his classmates.

As soon as the last student had left the room, Vanya conjured a chair on the other side of his desk. Harry sat, and Vanya steepled his hands on his desk, which Harry noticed were potmarked with small scars. He glared at Harry over the top of them.

"Mr Potter," he said quietly, his eyes looking directly into Harry's, although Harry could not feel him attempting Legilimency. "If you do what you did today again, I am going to ban you from this class."

"What?" said Harry, confused and outraged, "why? What I have done? I didn't do anything wrong, I did better than anyone else!"

"Yes, you did do better than anyone else," Vanya said, stopping Harry mid-rant, "but even though you performed better than I expected, it was not your best. I could tell that you were holding yourself back during the duel, and I will not accept it. I expect everyone in this class to perform to the best of their ability, to give me one hundred percent every single lesson, and you did not give me that today. So I say to you again; Harry Potter or not, if you slack in my lessons again, I will ban you from this class."

"Slacking?" said Harry, hardly believing his ears. "I wasn't slacking!"

"Were you performing to the best of your ability?" Vanya said swiftly.

"No, but I. ."

"Then you were slacking, Mr Potter."

"I have my reasons for not 'performing to the best of my ability,' Sir," growled Harry.

"Which are?" Vanya prompted.

"I. ." Harry glanced around the large classroom, with the door wide open, and with Vanya's eyes fixed intensely on his.

"I can't tell you."

"Then I am afraid I cannot let you continue in my class."

"What? Sir, what does it matter if I'm not doing as well as I could, I'm still doing better than everyone else!"

"Yes, but you are not working to the best of your ability."

"What does that matter, as long as I get an 'Outstanding' grade in the NEWTs, what does it matter if I don't perform amazingly in class?"

"Because you will be always holding yourself back, and that could have negative effects on your talents when you are not holding yourself back, outside of my lessons."

"But that's not your concern, that's mine," Harry said, and Vanya looked at him strangely, looking as if he disagreed. Harry quickly blocked his mind from certain thoughts and cut Vanya off before he could say anything about the wizarding world depending on him.

"Sir come on, can't we come to an arrangement or something?"

"No, Mr Potter. You either perform to the best of your abilities, or I dismiss you from my class."

"What if you speak to Professor Dumbledore about it? I'm sure he can explain to you my reasons for holding back. Will you speak to him?" Harry pleaded.

Professor Vanya leant back in his chair and scratched his chin, evidently thinking, and giving Harry a calculating look as he did so. After a few minutes, he spoke.

"Tell me, Mr Potter, are you holding back because of me?" Harry looked at him.

"You, Professor?" he said, and shook his head. "No, not you. Someone else."

Vanya scratched his chin again for a few minutes before speaking again.

"Then I feel that I may have a solution to this. Are you free tomorrow night, at eight o'clock?"

"I think so, Professor."

"Good. Then meet me here, and we will try and settle this little problem. Now, I've kept you too long. Go." Harry nodded, shouldered his bag and made his way to the door. Just as he was about to leave, Harry turned and asked Vanya a question.

"Professor? What are we going to do tomorrow night?"

Vanya looked up from his desk, and smirked.

"We are going to Duel."

* * * * * * * *

Harry suprisingly found Neville waiting for him with Ron and Hermione at the end of the corridor leading to the DADA classroom as he emerged after finishing talking to Vanya. Apparently Ron had cornered Neville to demand how he had done so well against Vanya. Harry asked him as well, and Neville grinned sheepishly.

"I've been practicing Duelling over the summer," he said quietly, as they walked quickly up the stairs to Transfiguration. "Only on how to jump around and dodge spells though, I couldn't practice actual spells out of school. I only lasted longer than most people with Vanya because I'm good at dodging, not because I'm good at proper Duelling."

"You still did well though Neville," said Hermione defensively, making Neville smile and mutter thanks to her.

"So did you Ron," she added, smiling at him. Ron tried not to look smug at Hermione's praise, and he turned to Harry excitedly.

"Did you see me hit Vanya with that disarming charm?" he said proudly, and Harry, completely thrown by this, stared at Ron incredulously.

"You hit him as well?" he said, and Ron nodded smugly.

"Didn't you see? Yeah, I got him after about ten seconds. Probably a fluke I reckon, considering I was laying on the floor when I fired it, but I'm still proud of it. I mean, remember what Vanya's job is?" he said, glancing sideways at Neville quickly. "And I still got a hit on him!"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, well done. How did you do, Hermione?" he asked, and Hermione glowed.

"I didn't actually hit him, but Professor Vanya said I was one of the best in the class. He said I had the perfect temperament of patience and calculation for a Duellist, and had excellent manuevouring." Harry smiled at her, and nearly tripped up the stairs in doing so. Ron turned to him.

"Anyway Harry, how come you did so well in there? That was amazing!"

"Well I've been having lessons all summer, haven't I?" he said. "I picked up a few things up from that."

"More than a few things," said Neville, grinning. "That double-spell thing you did when you hit him was unbelievable!"

"And that blocking movement you did with your wand," Hermione said, looking keenly at Harry. "Is that a spell, or is that just part of the magical atmosphere of your wand that deflected the spell? Or was it. . ."

"It's because of the magical atmosphere of your wand that the spell was deflected, and it's the power of the 'magical signature' of your wand and the magic inside of you that decides if you can deflect more powerful spells," Harry interrupted her, and Hermione nodded as if this made sense to her. "And can we stop with this 'Harry's great' rubbish now? I didn't do that well."

Ron, Hermione and Neville shook their heads at him, grinning, but were forced to stop telling him how well he had done as they had now reached the Transfiguration classroom, and were ten minutes late.

After a berating from Professor McGonagall for being late when she had specifically told them not to be, Transfiguration passed uneventfully for Harry. McGonagall warned them on the dangers of taking it easy because there were still two years before the NEWT exams, reminding them that it was a two-year course and that there would be assessments throughout the year that would count towards their final grade. She then spent forty-five minutes describing the course in intricate detail, referring them to what seemed to Harry like an entire library full of books for background reading (nearly all of which Hermione had already read), and lectured them about staying focused at all times.

"So much for Christmas, then," muttered Ron, as he and Harry copied down the course aims and objectives from the board. "'Stay focused at all times'! Why doesn't she just move all our beds into the bloody classroom?"

Harry muttered his agreement, and Hermione sighed and shook her head at them. When the bell went, signalling the end of the lesson and breaktime, Harry was the first one to the door.

"What's your hurry?" said Ron in suprise, as he and Hermione rushed to catch up with Harry. "It's break now!"

"I've got to go the library," Harry explained, and began to walk quickly down the corridor. Ron suddenly sprinted past him and stood in Harry's way, his mouth wide open and his face incredulous.

"To the library? At breaktime? On the first day of term? What's up with you?" he said, his voice going squeaky at the end. Harry looked up at him.

"I reckoned I'd get a headstart on NEWT Potions," he said, having come up with this excuse in Transfiguration. "You know, I'm in that class by a thread, I reckon I should make sure I can take anything Snape throws at me."

"Good idea Harry!" said Hermione, beaming at him. "I'm glad you're taking this seriously. Do you want some company? I'm sure I can do some more background reading. After all, you can never do too much!"

Ron turned to her now and backed up against the wall, the look on his face showing clearly that he thought that the whole world had gone insane.

"Er. .no it's alright Hermione, you go relax with Ron. I'll see you both in Charms, alright?"

"But Ron can come do some as well! Yeah, me and Ron can start on our homework for Professor Vanya!"

Ron's eyes widened in alarm, and he backed away and shook his head helplessly. "Come on Ron," she said, grabbing his arm.

"No, it's fine!" said Harry, in a high voice that made Ron and Hermione stop and stare at him. He cleared his throat. "No, it's fine, alright? I'll see you in Charms next lesson."

And with that Harry turned and strode quickly along the corridor and across the castle to the Hogwarts library.

He quickly found the Spell Construction section of the library, and got to work looking for books. As he did so, he saw Madam Pince nod approvingly at him from her desk.

After fifteen minutes of looking, Harry had found twenty three books that he thought would help him prepare for his lessons with Dumbledore, and he reckoned there was probably loads more in the Restricted Section. Maybe Dumbledore will let me in there to look. . .

Harry shook his head and glanced down at his watch, seeing that there was only five minutes until the end of break. He shook his head again; he wasn't going to be able to start researching now, and he couldn't possibly carry all the books around with him. In the end he simply rearranged the Spell Construction section so that all his books were on the same shelf next to eachother, ready for when he came back at lunchtime.

Dumbledore had given him this chance to start the work on the spell for the Line of the Protectors now, and, Harry thought with determination, as he remembered the names of the innocent children who had died yesterday at platform nine and three quarters, he wasn't going to waste it.

* * * * * * * *

Charms passed uneventfully like Transfiguration, with the exception of Ron and Hermione making Harry feel guilty for leaving them so suddenly and Professor Flitwick falling backwards off the pile of books he always stood on in lessons, the topmost book actually having little footholds in it's cover now having been so worn in. Flitwick like McGonagall lectured them on the dangers of taking it easy because they didn't have life-altering exams this year, and warned them he would be frequently testing their skills throughout the year, after which he promptly tested them to see that their Charms OWL results were deserved.

"What a day," said Ron wearily, as Flitwick finished testing him on banishing charms and moved on to Terry Boot across the room. "First Duelling with Vanya, then McGonagall harping on for god knows how long, and then a Charms OWL repeat! Why couldn't they just, for once, give us an easy Monday?"

"An easy Monday!" said Harry, and laughed dryly. "Who's ever heard of one of them?"

Hermione sighed.

"You two really do exaggerate, you know," said Hermione. She had beaten her OWL result in Charms by almost a quarter in Flitwick's testing, and was now making notes in her new textbook. Harry turned to her.

"We don't exaggerate!" he said, and Ron nodded in support. Hermione snorted in disbelief.

"It's only school, you know, just lessons."

"Yeah, well, they're hard!" said Ron emphatically. "Especially on a Monday!"

Hermione did not respond, but laid down her quill and looked oddly at the two of them. Ron gave her a pointed look and made a motion with his hands, as if waiting for a comeback. When she said nothing, he looked confused.

"You know," she finally said (Ron looked relieved), "I find it ridiculous that after everything we've done since first year the thing that you two complain about most is schoolwork."

Harry and Ron looked at eachother in confusion at Hermione's deep thoughts, and shrugged simultaneously. Hermione laughed quietly, and smiled at them. Ron again looked confused at this, and Hermione gave him a strange look before returning her attention to her textbook and quill. Harry and Ron gave another shrug, and started playing hangman on a corner of Harry's parchment.

When the lunchtime bell rang Harry and Ron both breathed hugely over-exaggerated sighs of relief, making Hermione both shake her head in exasperation and smile affectionately at them. The three of them packed up quickly and made for the Great Hall for lunch, where Ron dove into his food dramatically as if he hadn't eaten in months.

"Pell Construson after lunch," he said through a huge mouthful of beef casserole, and Hermione gave him a disgusted look over the rim of her goblet of pumpkin juice and turned to Harry.

"So Professor Thorlaug's your teacher from the summer?" she said quietly, glancing around, and Harry nodded.

"Yeah, Nate Gonzales. You both met him yesterday at. .well, you met him yesterday." Hermione's face looked suddenly stricken at the mention of yesterday. Ron, seeing this, swallowed his large mouthful of beef casserole immediately (in what looked to Harry like a very painful move), and tried to move the conversation quickly along.

"Uh, so Harry," he said hastily, glancing anxiously at Hermione. "Is he an alright bloke, this Nate Gonzales? Good teacher? He's not another Snape, is he?"

Harry laughed, but Hermione still looked stricken. He plunged on quickly.

"Um, nah, he's not like Snape, he's alright. And yeah, he's a good teacher. He does get a bit strange when he's teaching though, compared to how he is the rest of the time. Gets really serious. He's not mean like Snape though."

"Is he like Vanya?" Ron prompted quickly, and nodded at Hermione. "You was right about him, Hermione. Intense! Bloody right he was intense. All that stuff about meeting Death Eaters and dying if he didn't train us. And I can't believe he called us kids; what a twat! And he could have given us a chance in those Duels, couldn't he? Saying he was disappointed in us. . what did he expect, sixth year Hogwarts students are going to be able to Duel properly with fully-trained Aurors? What an idiot. . ."

"Ron!" said Hermione sharply. "Don't insult him like that! That was only our first lesson!"

Ron shrugged, and muttered, "I was only joking," but he looked glad that Hermione was now feeling well enough to have a go at him.

"At least I got her to smile," he said under his breath to Harry, who shared a private grin with him. Hermione glanced around again.

"What does Nate do then, Harry?" she said, looking curious. She seemed a lot better now. "I mean, do you know what job he had before he decided to be a Hogwarts teacher?"

Harry swallowed, not exactly in the mood to let all hell break loose by telling Ron and Hermione that Nate was a murdering Hitwizard the rest of the time he wasn't doing his Order duties.

"Er, I'll tell you later. I've got to get back to the library now, do some more research for Potions." Ron stared at him.

"Again?" he said. "Harry, it's the first day of term, will you just relax?"

Hermione slapped Ron on the arm, and Harry smiled.

"I can't, I've got too much to do. I'll see you in Spell Construction, alright?" he said, as he stood up and shouldered his bag.

"What have you done with the real Harry?" he heard Ron shout after him as he left, and Harry grinned.

* * * * * * * *

"You're a minute late," grinned Ron, as Harry came running up to the old Transfiguration classroom that was now the Spell Construction classroom. "Lucky 'Mr Serious' isn't here yet."

"Yeah," Harry panted, vaguely thinking that the running he had started doing in the summer was good for getting around Hogwarts as well as fighting Death Eaters. As he regained his breath, he noticed that they were the the only three people in the corridor.

"Why are you two still outside?" he asked, and Ron and Hermione looked at him as if he'd asked a stupid question.

"We were waiting for you," said Hermione simply, and Ron nodded.

"Can't let you bound in looking like an idiot, can we?" he said, grinning.

"Most certainly not," said a voice from down the corridor and the three of them spun around, Harry drawing his wand quickly as he did. He lowered it when he saw who it was, and smiled.

"Hello Professor Thorlaug," said Harry, grinning as the red haired Viking-looking Spell Construction teacher walked down the corridor towards him, "Professor Thorlaug" actually being Harry's Duelling Techniques teacher Nate Gonzales in disguise. He smiled as he reached the trio, and nodded at Harry as if he was meeting him for the first time.

"Mr Potter. I've heard great things about you." His smile widened, and he shook Harry's hand firmly before averting his gaze from Harry to Ron and Hermione, standing awkwardly at Harry's side.

"And this must be Miss Granger," he said, extending his hand to her, which she shook nervously (although Harry remembered her meeting him yesterday). "'The smart friend that everyone's always going on about', wasn't it?"

Hermione's cheeks went pink, and Thorlaug turned to Ron.

"And this must be Mr Weasley, the lanky redhead that won Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup last year," he said, shaking his hand as well. "Well done."

Ron's ears went red, and Thorlaug grinned at him, before walking forwards towards the classroom door.

"Right then, let's get to class. And remember, Mr Potter," he said quietly, "to address me as Professor Thorlaug."

Harry nodded at him, grinning, and "Thorlaug" nodded to Ron and Hermione. "I doubt you two will have any problem."

Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement, both still looking flushed from the compliments Thorlaug/Nate had given them.

"You three go in first," he said. "Can't let you bound in looking like idiots, can I?"

The three of them nodded and entered the classroom, taking seats at the only table that was left. Harry noticed to his irritation that it was situated next to the table which Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were sitting at, and he gritted his teeth; had Malfoy chosen every subject that he had?

Malfoy sneered at them as they sat down in their seats, and Harry and Ron glared back at him. that Crabbe turned hastily away when Ron glared at him, and Harry smirked. Hermione was busy getting out her equipment for the lesson and was paying no attention to Malfoy or his bodyguards, and Harry and Ron reluctantly followed suit.

A few minutes later Professor Thorlaug walked into the room, and the student's chattering subsided quickly. The smile he had worn when speaking to Harry, Ron and Hermione was now completely gone from his face, replaced with a expression of utmost seriousness. He walked to the front of the classroom and began pacing up and down, wand in hand, looking down at them as he did so. After a minute he stopped pacing and stood facing them with his thick arms crossed, looking a very threatening figure with his long hair and severe red moustache and beard, and his hard blue eyes looking down seriously at them.

"Welcome to NEWT level Spell Construction," he began, and Harry was startled to find that he was speaking in a strong and loud voice, quite unlike Nate Gonzales' usual quiet and levelled way of speaking.

"This subject is new to Hogwarts this year, and I am glad that there has been such excellent appreciation and interest in it," he said, surveying the room quickly with his eyes. Harry thought 'excellent appreciation and interest' was a bit far, considering there were only fifteen or so students in the class out of the entire year.

"This course will be unlike any of you have ever studied," Thorlaug continued. "The nature of the subject of Spell Construction is such that it would be impossible to teach you in the usual manner in which you are accustomed to being taught, so instead my role here will be to be your guider, and not your teacher. Much of the course demands that you learn the subject by yourself, through your own mistakes and corrections. As a teacher of Spell Construction, my powers are limited. I can teach you the basics of Spell Construction, but only to a certain extent; you must teach yourself to obtain higher marks. Simply using the textbook and my teachings will not get you an 'Outstanding' grade in your NEWTs. Indeed, you will struggle to even get an 'Exceeds Expectations' if you decide to use that method. What will get you the high marks is the ability to perfect this subject through personal practice, patience, dedication, mistakes and corrections, with me acting as your guide along the way, helping you along when both you and I see fit for me to do so."

He paused and stared at them for a second, presumably to let everything he had said sink in. After a while he continued.

"Spell Construction is the study of, obviously, constructing spells from scratch, and this is a vastly difficult and complicated process. There are many areas of study involved in creating a spell, which can be split into five, as they are called, Aspects. There is the Language Aspect, that needs to be understood to perfect the incantation for a created spell. There is the Element Aspect, which categorises the newly-created spell into one of the groups that all spells belong to. There is the Signature Aspect, which applies to your own level of magic and power. There is the Atmosphere Aspect, which applies to the world around you, and, of course, there is the Magical Aspect. You will be learning about all five of these Aspects, and you will need an extensive knowledge of them before you can progress on to creating your own spells independently.

"There will also be a large element of research involved in this course to assist you with these studies, and to give you a more thorough background knowledge of Spell Construction in general. You will be researching famous spell constructors of the past, and will be studying both their methods and their personal diaries, diaries which detail the spell-making process in a way that you will find most valuable.

"I need scarcely say that your studies of the Five Aspects and the additional research that you will be undertaking will take up most of this year. The subject of Spell Construction is vast, and as such you will only be learning a percentage of it's entire study at NEWT level, for it would be impossible for me to teach you much more. After the Five Aspects are perfected and your knowledge of the idea of constructing spells is extensive, the rest of the subject can only be taught by personal mistakes and corrections, by attempting to create your own spells.

"But this does not mean that you will be building up an extensive knowledge and learning the Five Aspects quickly and progessing on to creating your own spells immediately; far from it. As I said, the beginnings of Spell Construction that I will teach you (that is the background knowledge and Five Aspects) will take up much of this year, and so if some of you came to this class thinking of it as a quick way to be able to create your own spells, think again. If we stay on schedule we should have the Five Aspects and background knowledge covered by around the end of May to the beginning of June, and that's at the earliest. If I feel then that you are efficient enough to begin work on creating your own spells, I will consider letting you do so, perhaps on creating minor spells for small injuries or something similar, to prepare you for the more complex spells you will be creating next year. Otherwise, however, you will be taught in a traditional classroom manner. It will not be until next year that my role as a guider and your role as a student perfecting yourself through your own mistakes will come into play. Now then, let's get started."

Professor Thorlaug cleared his throat, making the class jump as the sound echoed through the classroom, and surveyed them all with his hard blue eyes.

"Now," he said, "let me ask you all a quick question; what spells do you think it would be useful to create?"

Several students put their hands up immediately, and Professor Thorlaug indicated that Terry Boot should answer the question. Hermione, who had been bobbing up and down in her seat with her hand in the air trying to get noticed, slowly put her hand down, looking disappointed.

"A spell to organise my schoolwork would be nice," he said thoughtfully, and Harry heard Malfoy snort derisively from the table next to him. Terry reddened, and Thorlaug asked, "anyone else?"

Several hands shot up again, and Thorlaug answered them one by one.

"A spell to shut people up."

"A spell that tells you exactly where the Snitch is."

"A spell that makes it hot all year round."

"A spell that makes you irresitble."

"A spell that does your homework for you!" said Ron, and the class laughed. Thorlaug put up a hand to silence it.

"Yes yes, these all sound like useful spells," he said, the look on his face showing that he clearly thought nothing of the sort. "But can anyone come up with anything less. .trivial?"

A lot less hands went up this time, but Harry and Ron put their hands up, as did Neville, suprisingly. Thorlaug nodded at him to answer the question.

"A spell that can detect people using the Unforgivable Curses," he said quietly. Many of the girls uttered small gasps, and Harry immediately turned to look at Malfoy, ready to rip him to pieces if so much as a nasty expression formed on his face. Malfoy however (after glancing warily at Harry) wisely neither moved nor spoke, and Harry returned his gaze to Neville, who Ron was staring at with a sympathetic look. Thorlaug was now nodding at him, his blue eyes cold.

"Yes, they've been attempting to create that one for years," he said, his voice hard and unemotional. He pointed to Hermione, who still had her hand raised.

"Go on then."

"A spell to find out if someone's under the Imperius Curse," she said grimly, and Thorlaug nodded again.

"Another one they've been trying to crack," he muttered. He nodded at Ron. "What about you, Mr Weasley?"

"A spell that can detect anyone who's a Death Eater," he said, and looked pointedly across the table at Malfoy, who looked back at him expressionless. Harry noticed that several people around the room glared at Malfoy as well.

"A fine choice, although there are already many ways to discover if somebody is a Death Eater or not. What about you, Mr Potter?"

"A spell that will keep the prisoners of Azkaban locked up now that the Dementors have left it," he said, and Thorlaug nodded. Lavender Brown let out a little cry, and many of the students turned to look at Harry, fear in their faces. Those he made eye contact with turned away quickly.

"You'll have to talk to the Ministry yourself about that one," he said, frowning. "All they're relying on at the moment to keep the scum inside is the walls, the sea, two dozen guards and a couple of weak imprisonment charms."

He lapsed into silence for a minute as if in deep thought, his hands balled into fists, before seeming to come to his senses by shaking his head.

"Enough of this," he said, unclenching his hands and moving around his desk. "Let's get to work. Please turn to page fourteen; 'an introduction to the complexities of Spell Construction.'"

The class passed quickly after that as they made notes on and discussed the introduction of the textbook to Spell Construction, and before Harry knew it the bell had gone and everyone was packing up their things and leaving. Professor Thorlaug winked at Harry as he left.

"Sounds bloody difficult this, don't it?" said Ron as they walked out of the classroom, the last three out. "All this research and these 'Five Aspects'? It's harder than I thought it would be."

"Well you didn't expect creating new spells to be easy did you?" said Hermione loftily, giving Ron a superior look. "It's one of the hardest things you can do with magic."

"Not as hard as getting you to stop showing off," Ron muttered. Harry sniggered, and Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"Don't you start as well, you and him are just. .oh."

The three of them had just turned a corner, and found themselves face to face with Draco Malfoy and his cronies. Harry clenched his hand around his wand in his pocket, ready to draw it at a moment's notice, and balled his other hand into a fist. Crabbe and Goyle saw this, and flexed their muscles threatingly. Ron had already drawn his, and was practically growling at Malfoy. Hermione put a warning hand on his arm, doing the same with Harry, who was willing Malfoy to start something so he could hit him again for what he had said yesterday.

"So Potter," he said softly, "I didn't realise you felt so strongly about the prisoners of Azkaban escaping."

Harry said nothing.

"What, the prisoners of Azkaban which include your scumbag of a dad?" Ron snarled, his hands balled into fists and clenching his wand tightly in one of them. Malfoy turned to stare at him, but made no move to draw his wand.

"Yes, I mean my father as well," he said quietly, and then turned back to Harry. "They'll be out soon, Potter. We all know that. And then you'll wish you'd never been born."

Harry moved forwards towards Malfoy, shrugging Hermione's hand off lightly, and felt a twinge of satisfaction when Malfoy took a stumbling step backwards. Ron sniggered.

"What's the matter, scared I'm going to hit you again?" Harry said, and Malfoy's grey eyes stared hatefully at him. Harry bent down, being taller than Malfoy now.

"If your father, or any one of those scum, tries to do anything against me that I think you had some part in, you won't just wish you were dead, you will be dead. Understood?"

Malfoy said nothing, but simply smirked at Harry, although it looked very forced and fake. Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Hermione there, looking angry. Ron, behind her, was staring at him strangely. Harry allowed her to pull him away from Malfoy, and he gave him a final snarl before allowing himself to be taken down into a unused corridor, where Hermione rounded on Harry.

"What did you do that for?" she said, her eyes blazing. Harry grimaced.

"Sorry. Do you think I went too far?" he said, and Hermione's eyes blazed even brighter. Harry took a step backwards.

"Too far?" she shrieked shrilly. "You threatened to kill him! Do you know how much trouble you can get in for that?"

Harry took another step backwards from her, but folded his arms defiantly.

"I'm not apologising for it," he said firmly, and Hermione made a growl of frustration in her throat.

"Hermione, lay off him will you?" said Ron, coming to stand next to Harry. "Malfoy's always winding us up, and we've all lost it with him at one time or another. Even you did in third year!"

"Yes, but none of us have ever seriously threatened to kill him before!" she said, her eyes still blazing. Harry looked at the ground, ashamed at himself for upsetting Hermione, but not sorry for threatening to kill Malfoy. Looking up at Hermione, he saw her eyes visibly soften towards him.

"It was scary, Harry," she said quietly. "You. .you looked really serious about it. Like you actually would kill him. You. .you wouldn't actually kill him, would you?"

Harry felt it would be better at this moment to not tell Hermione the truth. He couldn't honestly say to Hermione that he wouldn't kill Draco Malfoy; if Lucius Malfoy did anything to the Weasley's, or Hermione's parents, or even the Dursley's, he wasn't sure what he would do to him. So he lied.

"Of course I wouldn't kill him," he said softly, taking a step towards her. "Do you believe me?"

Hermione nodded slowly, looking close to tears, and then she suddenly bounded forwards and pulled Harry into a tight hug, crying into his shoulder. Harry froze, and looked over Hermione's head at Ron, who shrugged helplessly, looking as if he was glad it wasn't him being cried on.

After a while Hermione released him, wiping her tears on her sleeve fiercely, and turned to the two of them, looking very young.

"Sorry about that," she said quietly to them, and Harry and Ron shook their heads, telling her that she didn't need to apologise. She shrugged off their words, and continued. "It's just I'm not really having an easy time of it at the moment. You know, I haven't seen you both all summer, and then after everything that happened yesterday at the plat. .platform, and then all this with Malfoy and all, I just. . ."

She trailed off. She looked so alone and small in front of the two of them, sniffling like a little girl, and Harry and Ron looked at eachother. Nodding in resigned agreement and bracing themselves, they both moved forwards to envelope her in a three-way hug.

Hermione uttered a small cry of suprise as they did so, and then clung to their arms tightly, as if scared that they would both dissappear if she didn't. Harry and Ron gave eachother alarmed looks over her head, as she sobbed softly below them. After a while she released them, and looked at their faces and laughed weepily.

"You two are so awkward," she said, smiling through her tears, before wiping them away again. Harry and Ron smiled uncertainly back at her, and she laughed weepily again before suddenly looking fiercely determined about something.

"Come on, let's go get started on professor Vanya's homework," she said briskly, despite her tears, and began striding down the corridor in the direction of the library. As Harry and Ron jogged to catch up with her they grinned at eachother and, for once, didn't complain about going to the library straight after class.

* * * * * * * *

Wonder what Hagrid wants to talk about Harry wondered, as he trudged difficultly through the deep mud left over from the monstrous storm the night before. Hagrid had said at dinner that Harry should come alone tonight, without Ron and Hermione, because what he wanted to talk about was 'top secret'. Harry was feeling slightly nervous now; if even Ron and Hermione weren't allowed to know what Hagrid wanted to talk about, then it must, in Harry's opinion, be very secret.

Harry looked over at the shadowy Forbidden Forest as he walked and shivered, remembering the strange behaviour of the Thestrals since he had arrived at Hogwarts this year. He couldn't understand why they had been behaving so strangely; always staring at him, even flying above the Forbidden Forest to stare at him; what the hell was wrong with the damn things? he wondered.

He hadn't told Ron or Hermione about the Thestrals staring at him yet, or about seeing them above the Forest that morning. He couldn't really, considering that he wasn't going to tell them that he had slept outside last night, and so how would he have seen the Thestrals above the Forest?

Anyway, even if he did tell them, it wouldn't make a difference. There was just no point, really; he already knew what their reactions would be. Ron would laugh at him, and become worried in his own way, and Hermione would bite her lip and be openly anxious, and research frantically in the library for Thestral behaviour patterns. Maybe I should do that, Harry mused. Might tell me why they keep staring at me.

At that moment Harry sneezed violently, and yet again cursed himself for sleeping outside. Yeah right I'm doing that again he said to himself, sneezing again, as he had been doing all day. He knew sleeping outside in Scotland in September had been a bad idea; now he had a evil cold, having been sneezing and sniffling all day. He made a note to go see Madam Pomfrey as soon as he could, for some Pepper-Up Potion.

Harry shook his head to bring his trailing thoughts back to reality, and realised he was now approaching Hagrid's hut, and that the bottom of his robes and his boots were now completely covered in mud. Hagrid won't mind the mud he thought vaguely, and knocked hard on his front door.

As he had a few times before Harry found himself face to face with a crossbow when Hagrid's door was opened, but when Hagrid saw who it was he lowered it immediately. Fang barked happily from within the hut.

"All righ' Harry?" Hagrid said, grinning and patting Harry on the shoulder, making him stumble heavily, but luckily avoiding falling to the floor. "Come on in, we'll get goin' in a minute."

"Get going?" said Harry bewildered as he fought off Fang, who had jumped on him as soon as he'd walked through the door. "What do you mean, 'get going'? Where are we going?"

Hagrid looked at Harry as if he was mad.

"Where d'ya think we're goin'?" he said. "The Forest, o' course. Now, yer look a lot different than ter how yer looked las' time I saw yer. How was yer holiday?"

"Why are we going in the Forest?" said Harry quickly. "It's not something to do with Grawp, is it?"

At the mention of Hagrid's giant half-brother Hagrid seemingly forgot all about Harry's summer holiday and broke out into an enormous grin, his face swelling with pride and his beetle black eyes looking suspiciously bright as he looked at Harry.

"Aw yeh should see him now, Harry," he said, his eyes glazing over. "He's learn' loads now, he can talk proper english and everythin' . . asks me fer stuff, yer know, an' he an' Fang love eachother! An' he keeps askin' for someone called 'Hermy!' I thin' little Grawpy's go' a crush!"

Harry grinned, anticipating Hermione's face when he told her that, before saying uncertainly, "we're not going to see him tonight though are we Hagrid?"

"Eh? Oh no, not tonight, we're doing summat else tonight. And blimey, we better be off as well. If yer wan' though, I can' take yer ter see 'im tomorrow. Yeah, an yer can bring Ron an' Hermione with yeh as well!"

"Er. .we'll see," said Harry, kicking himself for dropping himself in it. "So then, what are we doing tonight?"

Hagrid's face became serious, the motherly expression he had had when talking about Grawp fading away.

"Dumbledore's had word," he said quietly, "from Firenze. Apparently the Thestrals wan' ter see yer."

Harry froze.

He remembered how the Thestrals had stared at him since he had arrived at Hogwarts this year, how they had been hovering above the Forest that morning, staring at him, and how he had wondered what they were doing. Now, it seemed, he was finally going to get an answer. He shook his head.

"The Thestrals want to see me?" he said, looking at Hagrid. His stomach suddenly felt strange. "Why?"

Hagrid shrugged.

"Don' ask me, all I know is that they do," he said, and stood up suddenly. "Come on, we'd betta be' off."

"But. .but why?"stammered Harry.

"I told yer, Harry, I don' know. Come on Fang!" he said, opening the door, and Fang barked loudly and rushed past him outside.

"But. .but. ."

"Look Harry," said Hagrid, fitting a quiver of arrows for his crossbow over his enormous moleskin coat. "I don' know anythin' more than you do. All I know is that the Thestrals want ter see yer, and I'm suppos' ter take yer to 'em. And we're goin' ter be late if we don' get a move on', so hurry up."

Harry followed Hagrid out of the cabin, shutting the door behind him, and jogged to catch up with him. The sun was beginning to go down now, and the rain clouds had disappeared, being replaced with a colourful sunset, that had turned the sky blood-red.

Harry caught up with Hagrid as he took his first step inside the Forest, and Hagrid looked down at him and smiled.

"Sorry if I was rude inside, Harry. I'm a bit on' edge at the moment what with everything that's goin' on, and it's jus' I was expecting you a bit earlier, and I was worried we wouldn't be ther' on' time if we chatted any longer."

"Well why do we have to be there at a specific time?" Harry said. "Is it like some big meeting of Thestrals, or something?"

"No idea," said Hagrid. Harry's stomach did enough flip.

"What do you think they want me for then, Hagrid?" he said. "I mean, it's not like they can talk to me or anything."

Hagrid scratched his bearded chin, seemingly in thought, before speaking.

"I'm no' sure," he said, still scratching his chin. "The only connection I can' think of that ye'd hav' with em' is the fact that you and yer friends rode some of 'em ter the Ministry las' year.

"Although," he added, a sad smile gracing his face. "Everything does seem ter happen ter you, doesn' it?"

Harry remembered him saying the same thing when he had been entered against his will for the Triwizard Tournament, and he smiled bitterly.

"Yeah, it does," he said quietly.

Hagrid patted him on the shoulder, and Harry, while stumbling to stay upright, walked face-first into a tree. After a moment he realised it was Hagrid's hand, Hagrid having put out his hand to stop Harry walking without turning around to see where he was.

"Ow!" said Harry, rubbing his nose, before Hagrid said sharply, "ssshhh!"

Harry stopped complaining, and moved to the side to look in front of Hagrid. He saw that they had come to a dead end; directly in front of them was an enormous oak tree, with a base that curved round them to their left and right, and above this were thick, impenetrable vines. In the centre of this curved base stood a lone Thestral.

The Thestral looked somewhat older to Harry than the Thestrals he had previously seen, but also much larger than any he had seen. It seemed to have numerous scars on it's torso, and it's black leathery wings looked fragile, as if they were going to snap any second. It's hooves seemed to be damaged somewhat, and it's legs were skinnier than any horse or Thestral he had ever seen. It's pupiless eyes were fixed on Harry.

Harry made no move to move towards it, and Hagrid was looking uncertainly between Harry and the Thestral. After a minute, in which Harry and the old Thestral stared into eachother's eyes, the old Thestral began to move forward towards them, until it was less than a foot away from Harry and their eyes were level. What happened next nearly made Harry faint.

"Potter," it hissed croakily.