Subplot

2- Harry

Here they are at it again, Harry thought, looking out at the green blur of landscape passing the window of their train compartment rather than watching his friends sulk. He wished Ron would come off it. Ever since Hermione had written them a postcard from Bulgaria, Ron had been in a bad mood with her. Of course the last two weeks spent at the Burrow had by far been the best part of Harry's holidays, but Ron's constant needling had cast a bit of a shadow over the days. Harry did not mind Hermione visiting Krum; he liked the surly Bulgarian seeker. Imagining Hermione with such a grown-up thing like a boyfriend awakened his curiosity, of course. Unfortunately, Ron had done his best to keep Hermione from telling them much about her holidays.

When Hermione had met Harry and the Weasleys on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, she had seemed overjoyed to see them. Harry had felt the same, and Ginny had squeaked with delight. Ron had only greeted her curtly and had even frowned at her when Hermione and Ginny got into the same train compartment with them.

While Harry had decided certain things would best be left alone, Ginny wanted to know all about Hermione's time with Krum. "Oh, I'll tell you later," Hermione had said. Ron gloated at the two girls. Harry stared at Ginny, trying to keep her from pressing Hermione about juicy details in front of Ron. Ginny, however, did not give up. Had Hermione met Krum's parents? Had she been able to get along without speaking Bulgarian? Had they gone sightseeing? Hermione seemed to be reluctant to talk about it, maybe discouraged by the way Ron kept demonstratively ignoring her.

"Well, it was nice. Nothing extraordinary, I dare say - " Hermione crushed the wrapper of a chocolate frog in her hand without even checking what card was in there.

"Did he show you his school?" Harry was trying to make polite conversation. The dark look on Ron's face made him uncomfortable. Surely they weren't planning on getting into another argument before the term had even started?

"No, he wasn't allowed to, as it is hidden." Hermione looked out of the window as well, where summer-green meadows were speeding past them. "I don't think I'm too sad about that, though. Some of the stories he told me - " She shuddered. "That place would probably give me the creeps. If I had to go to Durmstrang, I reckon I'd rather stay stupid."

"That bad, is it?" Ron growled, squashing a corned-beef sandwich in his hands.

As if to save them, Fred and George burst through the door of the compartment. Each held several black paper bags in his hands. Imprinted on the bags was a red flash of lightning over the word 'Wheezebag'.

"Now that we are out of Mum's reach, we thought we'd equip you all with our first products. Enjoy, and feel free to demonstrate the use of these free samples to friends and foes alike," George said in the smug tone of a businessman. Fred handed each of them one of the paper bags. Harry examined his. It was rather heavy for its size and contained several bulky objects. Ginny gasped.

"Wheezes! I can't believe you're still at it! Mum will bite your heads off."

"At least that wouldn't turn her into a canary," Fred mused.

"Or worse," George replied happily.

Harry had pried open the staples that held his bag closed. Some of the objects in there appeared to be ton-tongue-toffees while others looked dangerously unlike canary creams. There were several bags of powder in there, two of which said 'potion spoiler'. The white quill gleamed innocently in the darkness of the bag while the silvery spoon looked completely ordinary.

"So what do these do?" He waved some of the objects in question at the entrepreneurial twins.

"Would we tell you?" Fred replied, looking as if insulted by such a vile insinuation.

"And take away half the fun?" George shook his head as if in dismay. "I think the use of the objects in the Wheezebag are best found out by free exploration."

"Let me know the worst at once," Ginny deplored them, mischief in her eyes.

"No, we won't. See it as a chance to prove your scientific spirit," Fred advised them, the door handle in his hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, Hermione took out a Daily Prophet that had been wrapped in with her bundle of Hogwarts school robes while Ginny was teasing Ron's owl Pigwidgeon with an overlarge owl treat. Torn between looking over Hermione's shoulder and watching the tiny owl twitter angrily at a treat that was larger than its whole beak while Harry's own snow owl Hedwig hooted away calmly, Harry's eyes were suddenly caught by an article on the second page:

>>Assault on Wizard Family in Wales Still Mystery.

While nationwide concern about the brutal and mysterious attack on the Kinney family mansion demands highest efforts of the magical crime investigators, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, denies the possibility of a tie-in with recent rumours of a resurrection of Dark Powers. "While we certainly have to worry about the rise of International Organised Magical Crime in Britain, there are no proofs whatsoever that You-Know-Who is back on the scene. Neither are there any indications for a connection with recent Death Eater-style riots in Yorkshire," states an official speaker for the Ministry.

Bernhard and Tracy Kinney, both aged 27, as well as their two and three year old children, were killed when an unknown group of wizards burned their down house near Caerphilly, Wales, shortly before dawn on Monday, August 29^th, as was reported by the Daily Prophet. A medical examination on the bodies gives evidence that all victims were Transfixed prior to their deaths, giving their murderers time to search and clear the family mansion. Investigators are still looking for any clue to their identities but have to fight against serious Tracehiding charms. "We are at it and will nail whoever did this monstrous deed," a Magic Crime Fighter stated confidently.

While wizard crime rates have been on a constant rise since 1947, the exceptional brutality and ruthlessness of the crime leaves the magical public in shock.<<

Harry tried to fight a slight feeling of nausea as he and the others were changing into their school robes. He watched Ginny feed the overlarge owl treat to Hedwig as Pigwidgeon had obviously given up. Here they were, feeling safe among their daily jumble of school business, Wheezebags and owl treats when not far away something terrible had already begun. He shook his head, feeling helpless. There was little he could do, other than trying to get through each of his days as well as he could, hoping somebody would find a way to stop Lord Voldemort.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arriving at Hogwarts as always meant a ride in large carriages that moved without any visual trace of horses and fetched students from the tiny platform of the Hogwarts Express. Harry looked around for Hagrid, the gamekeeper of Hogwarts, who traditionally took the students of the first year to school on a boat trip across the lake. He turned his head right and left as he was eager to meet his friend Hagrid but could not spot him. This was strange, as Hagrid, a half-giant who was twice as high and four times as broad as a normal man, wasn't easily overlooked. Ron and Hermione had also noticed that Hagrid was missing. "I can't see the boats, either," commented Ron.

"The first-years seem to be going in carriages this year, too," observed Hermione. "Where could Hagrid be?"

This worried Harry slightly. Passionate about all magical creatures that sported fangs, talons or any other dangerous trait, Hagrid had a habit of being in trouble. But as no answer to the question of Hagrid's whereabouts was at hand right then, he climbed into one of the carriages with his two friends and travelled the last bit of the journey towards their school.

"Look - they built something new there! That looks curious!" Hermione sounded excited. Harry glanced out of the carriage window, while Ron continued his examination of the Wheezebag, pretending to be not the least interested in Hermione's exclamation. On the other side of the lake stood a low building that had not been there before the holidays. It looked thick-walled and appeared to be almost windowless. Despite its pointed roof, its architecture clashed curiously with Hogwarts castle that rose against the sunlit sky at a distance.

"It looks new!" Harry remarked, a confused frown on his face. He was just so used to the ancient castle of Hogwarts that he felt the modern-looking building with its shiny blackish-blue tiles was completely out of place here.

"Well, it is new, isn't it?" was Hermione's reply. "If you ask me, I'd also say it looks gloomy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they entered the Great Hall, Ron had still not spoken anything more than the occasional grunt. Hermione appeared not to notice, but Harry did not enjoy the situation. He felt he had a pretty good idea what was wrong with his friend, but preferred not to think about what it could be, because - well, just because. When they approached their seats at the Gryffindor table, he was therefore relieved to hear Ron making normal conversation again.

"Hey, have a look at this year's candidate!"

At the staff table, just between Dumbledore and Snape, sat a tall witch with long black hair, a wearing a solemn expression on her pale face. She looked straight at them across the room, her glance guided by Snape's pointing finger. Harry's least favourite teacher wore an ironic grin; he inclined his head towards her and seemed to tell her something.

"Defence Against The Dark Arts, do you reckon?" Hermione asked Ron, her eyebrows raised in some kind of a challenge. "Perhaps they figured a witch might last us a little longer. She's quite young, too, I think."

"Not a fossil anyways." Ron sounded close to normal and slipped onto his chair. Harry felt himself relax. But apart from Ron's odd behaviour, something else was bothering him.

"Looks like she's a friend of Snape, doesn't she?" The pair at the teachers' table indeed seemed to be wrapped up in conversation. Harry frowned. "I suppose we should be glad if she doesn't last us more than a year in that case, either!"

"There's something wrong with Snape too, don't you think so? He looks different somehow!" Hermione peered over to the teachers' table. "It's just - oh, now I've got it - can you believe it? I think he washed his hair!"

Harry and Ron, who were obviously less observant about the professor's hair, hadn't noticed, but now that Hermione had pointed it out, Harry could see what she meant. Snape's black hair was neatly trimmed at shoulder's length and looked decidedly less greasy than usual; on top of that, Harry's least favourite teacher was wearing crisp new robes and something that resembled a pleasant smile.

"Chatting up the new teacher, is he?" Ron commented glumly.

"But Hagrid's still not here," mused Hermione, looking at an over-large, empty chair at the staff table.

"Wonder what he's up to now - I hope he's alright," muttered Ron. - "Hey, here come the first-years!"

The three friends watched the assembly of frightened-looking first year students brought in by Professor McGonagall, the stern-looking witch who had assembled them to be sorted into the four houses of Hogwarts. Harry saw the young students gaze at the ceiling in amazement - it had been bewitched to look like the sky outside - regard the golden plates and goblets on the table with awe, or look at the ancient, ragged Sorting Hat with apprehension. He remembered his own sorting four years ago and suddenly couldn't believe that it had been four years ago. Did time really fly this fast? It seemed like yesterday that he had stood there, not sure whether he belonged to this intimidating school of wizardry and witchcraft or not. Thinking about it, he realised that he could be counted among the older students now and that more than half his time at Hogwarts was past him. When he had started at this school, he probably had believed that fifth-year students were very old and wise, that they knew a tremendous amount of magic and were on a countdown to adulthood. So, considering the fact that he would have to take his O.W.L.s at the end of this year - was he all that wise and grown-up? He did not really think so, and all of a sudden, the thought did not appeal to him either. Before he came to Hogwarts, he had many times dreamt of being grown-up so that he would not have to bend to other people's rules anymore, could leave the Dursleys and live his own life far away from then. Right now, however, he felt a strange dread towards the time when he'd be confronted with the life of an adult wizard. What would it be like? So much had happened in these past four years, so many things that he wouldn't have believed possible and by far not all these things had been pleasurable. He shuddered at the thought of the wizard family killed in Wales, imagining what might still happen during his remaining years at Hogwarts - the terrible events of last year were already bringing about a change that certainly would not be for the better.

Loud cheering awoke him from his solemn thoughts, and he realised that he had missed the song of the Sorting Hat - he simply hadn't been listening. When Hermione turned to Ron and him and said, "This was a nice one, wasn't it?" he nodded, somehow embarrassed that he had permitted himself to be so far from the Great Hall in his thoughts. The Sorting Hat sang a different song each year prior to the Sorting Ceremony, and he felt a little stupid for not paying attention.

When Professor McGonagall called out "Ailis, Gwenwyfar," a pale, slight girl with a pinched face approached the hat and set it onto her head with extreme caution. The hat, which fell down over her eyes and covered her head almost down to the chin, pondered for a second. "Slytherin!" it exclaimed then. The Gryffindor students at Harry's table looked upon her with a little disfavour; the Slytherin House was not only Gryffindor's declared rival in all school championships, but also the house which had turned out the most dark witches and wizards over the centuries. The Slytherins, however, clapped to welcome their new member. Somehow, their cheers sounded thin and hollow in the Great Hall. That was the moment when Harry, Ron and Hermione, or probably even most of the students in the Hall, finally noticed it:

"Where's Malfoy?" wondered Harry, who couldn't make out his arch-rival and enemy. "Where are his thugs?" added Ron, referring to Crabbe and Goyle, Draco Malfoy's obedient followers, both big and rather stupid. "It seems a whole bunch of them are gone!" Hermione had been quick to oversee the whole situation. "Good riddance, if you ask me," was Ron's grumbled comment.

All around them, non-Slytherin students were murmuring in surprise and looking around whether this extraordinary dwindling of students concerned the other three Houses of Hogwarts, too. However, everyone else seemed to be in their place. With a surge of relief, Harry saw Cho Chang sit at the Ravenclaw table as usual. Whatever his chances were with her, it would still have come as a shock if she had been gone. But overlooking the assembly of students he realised only the Slytherins had disappeared in large numbers.

Professor McGonagall, who must certainly have noticed the murmurs of surprise around her and was also rather likely to know the cause for this, continued the Sorting Ceremony as if she hadn't noticed. Shooting stern glances through her square glasses at any student who kept on talking, she managed to regain the silence befitting the Sorting Ceremony rather quickly, however. Seamus Finnigan, who was in the fifth year now like Harry, Hermione and Ron, welcomed his little sister to the Gryffindor table with loud cheers; there was a number of new students coming into their house, but, as Harry couldn't fail to notice, again, very few students approached the diminished Slytherin table.

"Are they dying out or what?" wondered Ron. "So it's true, and I wouldn't believe it," murmured Hermione. "What is true?" asked Harry. But before she could answer him, Professor Dumbledore rose from his seat, and the Hall fell once more into silence.

"I'd like to welcome all new students to this school," the headmaster with the flowing white hair and beard commenced. "I hope you have a wonderful time at this institution and learn a fair portion of all the things you will need to know in the difficult times we are facing." Sounds of bewilderment blended with cheers as an answer to this not entirely optimistic statement. "Please notice the Forest on the Hogwarts ground is forbidden to all students, just as the new building behind the lake.

"I'd also like to welcome Professor Varlerta, who will teach Defence Against the Dark Arts from this year onwards - by this I mean that I hope she will stay with us a little longer than her predecessors."

Varlerta rose, took off her pointed, black hat and bowed her head in greeting, her face expressionless but her eyes smiling. Again, the students' cheers sounded a little nervous. None of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers Harry had so far had at Hogwarts had lasted more than a year. Most students eyed the tall, thinnish witch with the pale complexion curiously, maybe wondering, like Harry, what she was like and whether she would be up to the job of teaching Defence against the Dark Arts.

"... that many of our lines are missing," Harry heard Dumbledore say and turned his attention back to the headmaster, who, he realised, must be speaking of the missing Slytherins.

"Over the holidays, quite a few parents have chosen to withdraw their children from this school and to transfer them to Durmstrang or to Beauxbatons. It saddens all of us to see your table so empty." He looked to the students sitting at the Slytherin table, some of whom were shuffling about on their chairs and looking uncomfortable. "After my speech at the end of last year, there have been numerous political discussions and disagreements. However, even if it grieves us to see our students leave us, it may be just as well that no tear of disagreement runs through this school. I stand by what I said, and I am glad you who remain - and I, who will also remain here" - loud cheers throughout the hall answered this remark - "will face what is ahead of us together.

"I'd very much have liked to start this year without all this serious talk, but I'm afraid it couldn't be helped. So - what more is there to say? If we are indeed facing dark times, this piece of advice may be even more important than ever - enjoy your feast."

Cheers, well, some cheers at least, were again audible in the hall when the golden plates and goblets on the table filled with food mysteriously, steered by the magic of the house-elves in the kitchen below. Harry, however, was not ready for food yet. "Where's Hagrid, though?" he pondered aloud, obviously not softly enough for Dumbledore to miss it even among the murmurs in the crowd. The old wizard raised his hand again, and the talk and clatter died down a bit.

"Oh - for those who have wondered - your Care of Magical Creatures teacher is still away on some important journey, but will return any day now - hopefully in time for his first lessons tomorrow."

A few people cheered or booed through the food in their mouths, but many hadn't been listening. Harry asked Ron to pass him some platters and helped himself to many of his favourite kinds of food. All around him, students were tucking in happily. He sighed inwardly. It was good to be at Hogwarts again, which was like a home to him - but there was a lot yet to think about.

He knew exactly what Dumbledore had meant when he had referred to his speech last year. The old headmaster had publicly announced that Lord Voldemort, the Darkest wizard there had ever been, had regained a body and was likely to rise to power again - a truly terrible threat to all the Hogwarts students knew and loved, if not for the whole world. Harry himself had witnessed this horrifying event. He tried not to think about it, but even this effort left him slightly nauseous. He still had occasional nightmares about the encounter with Lord Voldemort and his followers, but many wizards did not believed the thing they had been dreading had indeed come to pass. The Ministry of Magic tried to hush over the event. Dumbledore, however had believed in everything Harry had told him, and had chosen to tell this truth to the whole school, although by doing so he had made himself even more enemies in the wizarding world than he already had.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In spite of all dark thoughts, Harry was glad to wake in his four-poster bed at Hogwarts once more, to have breakfast with everyone and to drift along in the jumbled flow of students who had not yet settled back into the routine completely. "What's our first lesson?" he asked as he walked along one of the countless corridors with some Gryffindor fifth years, sure that at least Hermione would already know the new timetable by heart.

"We start with the new one straight away," she replied. "I'm curious to see her approach to Defence Against the Dark Arts."

As the Gryffindor fifth years entered the classroom, they eyed it suspiciously. Obviously the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had redecorated. Besides some strange tapestries and charts on the walls, several of which Hermione identified as sheet music, the room now featured a large, sombre-looking gong, a few shamanic drums with strange designs painted on them and a large, battered double-bass. Professor Varlerta was sitting on her desk among a pile of half-torn books, legs swinging freely in front of the desk to display a set of black biker's boots showing from beneath her black witch's robes.

"She's quite weird, don't you think so?" Ron whispered to no one in particular. Harry wasn't quite sure but thought Ron might be right. "She's American, anyway, if her accent is anything to go by," added Hermione, barely audible. "Not that that's the point, though."

"Welcome to your first lesson with me - or should I say my first lesson with you?" Professor Varlerta got up from her desk to pace in front of it. "This year you are due to do Strengthening mainly, which happens to be one of the things I specialise in. Who can tell me what Strengthening is?"

Of course, Hermione's arm shot in the air, but so did a few others. Harry himself thought he might have an idea. Professor Varlerta nodded to Seamus Finnigan to reply.

"It means to Strengthen - er, to shield yourself against a curse so it won't work on you."

Professor Varlerta nodded again. "What do you have to Strengthen to be shielded against a curse?" This time only Hermione indicated she had an answer and was allowed to put it forward.

"You have to coordinate your body and mind by magic to Strengthen both against the curses of an opponent. Strengthening can be done without a wand - one of the very few kinds of magic you can do without one. It works a bit differently for each wizard and witch. And you can use it on all curses, besides, obviously, Adava Kedavra, and..."

"Stop!" Professor Varlerta's face betrayed her effort not to grin, and there was amusement in her voice. "Let's take things one step at a time, even if you're ready to teach us the whole story already. - You should be Granger, right?"

Hermione blushed purple, but held her back very straight as if bracing herself for some insult to come. However, Professor Varlerta just murmured: "Hey, that's not a bad idea. I'll come back to that in the future." She then resumed:

"We will learn several ways of Strengthening, some of which could be considered classical magic, while some of them will feel new to you. I have lived among Muggles for many years, and while I see the absolute necessity of teaching you magic, I assure you that some of the finer Muggle arts which have been neglected in these halls so far will come in extremely handy in Strengthening."

There was some confused murmur in the classroom. Muggle arts? What would they want to learn that for? Mercilessly, Professor Varlerta continued:

"I will teach you to do a mixture. We will learn spells. We will meditate. We will explore the nature of magic a bit. We will practice with and without wands. Also, we will employ music - hence the word 'enchantment'! And of course we will write extremely long essays." Someone behind Harry moaned loudly.

"Talking about music - as you may or may not have heard so far, I am doing some research on music, Duelling and Strengthening. You will have noticed my soundproof research building besides the lake. I strongly advise you not to approach it uninvited. However, I agreed with Dumbledore on taking on two or three especially talented students as apprentices who will help me with my research and will receive special training. The students will have to drop one or two of their minor subjects - say, Potions and Divination -"

Harry couldn't help but burst out laughing, as well as most students. Around Professor Varlerta's eyes a few lines twitched, but she kept her expression serious. "Anyways, although this may cause a tragic defect in your education, I hope a few students interested in the high art of music will do me the honour of signing up for my little auditions where I will chose those who show the best aptitude for my project. - Well, enough of that! Please open your books at section one - 'Strengthening - an introduction'. We will read it aloud in turns. Please all be sure to make notes on everything you find important or do not understand."

The rest of the lesson was rather uneventful: The introductory chapter of Dark Magic Won't Defeat Me by Miranda Goshawk and Gregor Forcet contained no allusions to Muggle arts. Rather it contained sections like 'A short history of Strengthening' as well as 'Curse Systematics'. Obviously there was a great deal of grey theory involved, Harry thought. However, somehow the chapter failed to give a satisfactory explanation for the fact that some curses worked and some didn't. It talked a lot about 'inherent magical strength': If the strength of the cursing witch or wizard was larger than the strength of the cursed person, the curse would usually work; if not, it would misfire. That seemed simple enough. However, Miranda Goshawk and Gregor Forcet seemed rather unwilling to explain what 'inherent magical strength' was and how to develop it.

"For your homework, please summarise the content of the chapter and critically reflect upon what it does and what it doesn't tell you. If you find it falls short of introducing you to the topic of Strengthening, write down the points you believe should be in there," the teacher told them. "And those who want to sign up for the auditions, be sure to do it today, because I want to hold them tomorrow."

"Now what kind of assignment is that?" Ron complained. "If she thinks the book is crap, why did she make us buy it in the first place?"

"I thought it was interesting, but I didn't understand it all. I will review it tonight and maybe do some background reading," Hermione said to nobody in particular.

"Will you audition for that research thing?" Harry asked. Hermione snorted through her nose. "Yes, right, audition! La, la, la!" Hermione deliberately sang a few notes, which were so out of tune that even Neville shuddered when passing them. "There's no way I will miss some of my lessons to do research on music!"

"I wouldn't mind to get out of Potions and Divinations!" stated Harry, and Ron murmured in agreement. "Minor subjects! Maybe she's not friends with Snape after all!"

"Yes, it sounds nice to miss Potions, but I suspect her auditions are really hard." Neville joined them in their conversation. "I wouldn't dare show up there, she'd probably laugh at me!"

"You might as well try it," Hermione replied. "You've got a nice voice, and I know you can hold a tune, too. I don't know what she is looking for, but she's got no reason to laugh at you!"

Neville blushed furiously, but said nothing for a while. Then, after a long pause, he addressed Hermione:

"But you think what she's doing must be rubbish."

Now it was Hermione's turn to blush - she certainly wasn't the kind to talk like that about a teacher. "Er, well, no, I didn't actually say that," she replied. "Er, maybe it's rubbish, but it might also be really great. But then, I don't have Divination but Arithmancy, which I certainly wouldn't want to give up, and I don't even think Potions is that bad - besides the obvious, of course!"

"Well, I think it is that bad," murmured Neville. Hermione nodded.

"Then I think you should really go to that audition. It's tomorrow afternoon in that funny building. Go for it, Neville!"

As if prompted by this remark, Neville tripped over his own feet and spilled the content of his bag all over the staircase.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Professor Varlerta really seemed to think Potions a 'minor' subject. As usual, the Gryffindors had their Potion lessons with the Slytherins of their year, a group that had been reduced to seven students. Professor Snape did not comment on this, but started his first lesson of the term with a long sermon about Orderly and Thorough Work, something he assured them they would need if they wanted to pass their O.W.L.s at the end of the year. Just when Snape admonished them to meet the Challenges of Adult Life with Discipline and an Organised Mind, Professor Varlerta interrupted him by dropping in unannounced without even knocking. Obviously, her visit came as a surprise to Snape, too - when he heard the doorknob turn he deepened his frown and opened his mouth very wide as if to shout at whoever dared enter. However, as he saw Professor Varlerta, he closed his mouth and actually smiled.

"Hello Verus. May I interrupt your class for a second?"

Snape said nothing but made an inviting gesture with his hand. Professor Varlerta addressed the class:

"Some of you have signed up for my auditions, and I scheduled you for this afternoon. That should be Parvati Patil, Millicent Bulstrode, Seamus Finnigan and Neville Longbottom. I'd like you to come to my research building in the order I just announced. Each will take about twenty minutes. So please come with me now, Miss Patil. The other ones I will expect in twenty, forty minutes and so on. If you will excuse them for that time?" She looked at Snape, who just nodded and smiled at her when she left the classroom together with Parvati.

"Verus! Now what's that supposed to mean? A nickname for the old dragon?" Ron snorted when Snape turned away and shuffled around noisily with a few enamelled cauldrons.

"It's Latin and means 'the true one,'" replied Hermione softly.

"Oh, how cute," said Ron with sarcasm in his voice while weighing a few firefly legs on his tiny ingredients scale. "The truly horrible one, more likely. Though he's friendly with her, it seems - lets her take a bunch of students out of his class without even..." - his voice trailed off into nothingness when he noticed Snape shoot him a very intense gaze across the room. For once, the teacher said nothing, and even when Millicent Bulstrode started packing her things to leave the classroom he merely raised an eyebrow. The class continued grating the ingredients for their Alertness Potion, which was supposed to help focus people's perception on specific tasks for a limited time - "something most of you should be taking every day in my opinion," as Snape had barked at them earlier.

An hour later, the Potions were simmering peacefully in their cauldrons - only Neville's potion was a little lumpy. "I would not recommend that anyone drinks a potion looking like THIS - it would make you all very shaky and would focus your perception on goodness knows what!" had been Snape's comment. Neville, who was still very afraid of Professor Snape, turned white and quite shaky at this putdown without drinking his potion, but then he emptied his cauldron into the waste basin in the rear of the dungeon and started to pack his things.

"What are you doing, Longbottom? The lesson's not over only because you proved once more you failed to profit from it!" Snape said icily. Neville turned whiter still, but then straightened his back and looked Snape directly in the eye.

"I'm due in Professor Varlerta's building in a minute for my audition, as she said when she was here." This time Snape raised both of his eyebrows.

"Oh, right. Mr. Longbottom is going to the au-di-tion." He seemed to savour every syllable of the last word. "The chance in your lifetime! Just watch where you are going and don't knock over all the complicated instruments! I really should have warned Professor Varlerta about what she's going to let into her sanctuary!"

Neville's bottom lip trembled, but he put his cauldron back on the shelf, shouldered his bag and left the classroom without another word. A few minutes later Seamus Finnigan reappeared, sat down on his seat next to Dean Thomas, grinned at him and whispered something in his ear. Seamus nodded vigorously until Snape told the two of them off for talking in class. The teacher ended his lesson with giving the class a lengthy essay about different versions of Alertness potions to summarise for their homework.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the evening when Ron and Harry were playing wizard chess in the Gryffindor Common Room, Ginny suddenly burst in, squeaking excitedly:

"I got it, I really, really got it! That's so cool, that's so, so cool!"

Ron looked at her in amazement. "What did you get?"

"The part! I mean, the research part! I'll be working with Professor Varlerta in her building! She's got a million instruments and complicated machines in there. She's even got a drum set and said I could play on it. And I'll learn everything about audio magic, and I'll get out of Muggle Studies and Arithmancy, and..."

"Audio magic? What's that supposed to mean?" Ron frowned at his little sister, toying with a bishop of Harry's he had just taken, a little figure that wriggled in his hand, moaned and complained.

"Magic that works through the production of sound. Haven't you heard? That's Professor Varlerta's specialty!" The voice belonged to Hermione, and when Ron and Harry turned around, they realised she might have stood behind them for a while. Ron, who was still a bit distant with Hermione, eyed her suspiciously. "I thought you said it was all crap!"

"Well, I don't anymore," answered Hermione. "I read up on it, and it's quite interesting - a new brand of magic, or rather, an old one that is being rediscovered. Professor Varlerta is supposed to be working on some rather important things now, and it's a great opportunity for Ginny to work with her." Ginny beamed at Hermione.

"So how come you did not get out of Potions like she said?" Ron asked. Just like Harry, Ron truly hated Potions and would not have easily given up the opportunity to get rid of that subject.

"Well, she had to coordinate things with our timetables and hers, and Neville wanted to get out of Potions so bad. It was either him or me, so I decided to make him happy for once."

"Neville??" Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Oh, yes, he's the other one. Professor Varlerta said she believed he's really got music in his wand."