Iuga Sortis II

Seven

There was something about the new DADA professor that was oddly familiar to him. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he could swear he'd seen her somewhere before . . .

". . . And now, we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, all the way from the United States. I welcome Professor Roberts to the teaching staff at Hogwarts . . ."

For some unknown reason, his eyes went immediately to the Slytherin table. They first spotted an injured Crabbe. He'd broken his leg just so magic couldn't repair the damage, so it had to heal the Muggle way.

He smirked at the irony of the situation. I'll bet his parents loved that diagnosis . . .

He moved on from Crabbe to see Goyle looking very confusedly at the Head Table.

What else is new? I'll bet his own reflection confuses him!

He chuckled to himself and moved on to the next person.

Malfoy.

His lip curled in disgust, looking at the blonde-haired boy.

First his father takes my godfather away, then he has the nerve to take Ginny's heart as well!

Prick.

Harry remembered last year when Ron asked him if he had feelings for Ginny. He'd answered Ginny was like a sister to him.

He'd lied through his teeth.

He was attracted to the youngest Weasley as he'd never been attracted to anyone, but she didn't fancy him like that.

Not anymore.

Once again, Potter, your timing reeks!

Why did it take him so long to realize what was staring him in the face? Talk about being slow on the uptake . . .

He groaned.

"All right there, mate?" Ron asked.

"I've been better . . ."

"We all have," Ron said sadly. He clapped Harry's shoulder and squeezed it. "At least the new DADA professor isn't Umbridge!"

"What if she's worse?" Harry moaned.

"The only way it could be worse is if You-Know-Who taught the class himself!"

"That would be counterproductive, wouldn't it?"

"Pretty much."

"She looks familiar somehow," Hermione mused. She was sitting in front of Harry, and Ginny was in front of Ron.

"Like Nia," Ginny said matter-of-factly.

Click.

"Are they related?" Ron asked.

"Are you kidding me? It's as if Professor Roberts spat Nia out! Of course, they're related! She's Nia grandmother!" Ginny said, exasperated.

Harry looked at the Slytherin table and saw a scowling Nia glare at her plate. Sure enough, the new DADA professor at the Head Table could pass for an older version of the third year sitting beside Malfoy.

He suddenly felt a sting of animosity against her.

At least she had a grandmother.

"What's this? Cater to Slytherins Part II? Bad enough we had that horror Umbridge last year! Perhaps this is Dumbledore's new plan to keep the Slytherins from following Voldemort?"

Both Hermione and Ginny glared at him, and he felt his cheeks heat with shame.

"Oi! You may be on to something there, Harry! Too bad it's not going to work. Ferret Boy is as much of a tosser as he was before . . ."

"Shut up! Both of you!" Ginny exclaimed.

Ron frowned. "Are you defending that git?!"

Ginny's face turned red--from anger or embarrassment, Harry didn't know. "Did it ever occur to you maybe we should trust Dumbledore's decisions?"

Ron snorted. "Every single professor for DADA, except for Lupin, has been a nightmare! No fewer than THREE of the five we've had have tried to kill or harm Harry at some point or another--four if you count that prat Lockhart--"

"Ron . . ." Hermione warned.

Ron merely rolled his eyes. "What's to say this 'Professor Roberts' isn't out to get him, too? Hell, she's Roberts's grandmother! Roberts is best friends with Malfoy! Am I the only one seeing the problem here?"

"You do have a point, Ron . . ." Harry considered aloud.

Ginny huffed. "This is ridiculous. Whether we want to admit it or not, Malfoy is not a Death Eater! Since when are the sins of the father the sins of the son?"

"Since a Malfoy beget a Malfoy!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "You've been reading my dictionary again, haven't you, Ron?"

"A fascinating book, I must say . . ."

She pursed her lips. "I guess anything beats that awful Quidditch Through the Ages . . ."

Ron looked indignant. "That is blasphemy! You will not besmirch that book!"

"Two more dictionary words, Ron! You're on a roll . . ."

Ron began to sputter, and Harry laughed. They might've been a couple, but they were still Ron and Hermione.

"Well, I'd appreciate if you'd keep your insults of my friend to a minimum," Ginny muttered.

"Malfoy?" The edge was back in Ron's voice.

"Nia."

"But she--"

"She is the reason why Crabbe's leg is busted, or did you forget the story Fred told us?"

Harry looked at the girl in question again. Nia--the girl who was best friends with evil's spawn--attacked one of the spawn's lackey; apparently she hit the spawn himself at one point. Nia--the girl who'd been his research partner during Easter holiday last school year to help him figure out why he dreamed of a lion-headed god who looked oddly like him. Nia--the girl who had these cute little dimples that would show whenever she laughed particularly hard.

He frowned.

Where the hell did that come from?

In a word, Nia Roberts was an enigma.

"Oi, Harry! Gonna eat?"

"Wha? Oh. Yeah," he said, and he slowly picked up his fork.

He stared at the food.

"Have you developed a new method of eating we common folk don't know about?" Ginny teased.

Hermione laughed at the quip, and Harry felt the corners of his mouth lift.

"I would hardly call you common, Ginny."

Ginny snapped her mouth shut, and her face colored again. Harry was sure it wasn't from anger.

"Oh, but me and Hermione you would? I see how it is!" Ron said with mock annoyance.

"Oh, sod off, you prat!" he laughed.

The remainder of dinner passed by with revelry, and Harry's dark mood drifted away.

Until it was time to go upstairs.

Ron, Hermione, and now Ginny left to lead the first years to the tower, and he was suddenly alone, despite being surrounded by a throng of people.

Alone . . . seems that's all I'll ever be . . .

Suddenly a body collided very heavily with his.

"Doesn't feel too good to be shoved, now does it?" a voice drawled. Laughter could be heard as the students left the hall--none of whom offered to help them.

"Flippin' punk! Would if I could hex the bejesus outta him," the body on top of him muttered as it rose from him.

Harry was relieved he could breathe again.

"So sorry about that. Here, let me help you up . . ."

His eyes locked to her amber ones as he put his hand in hers.

An electric shock passed through them, and she let go of his hand in a hurry. He fell flat on his behind.

"Sorry! Static . . ." She shook her hand and offered it to him again.

"No, thanks, I got it!" Harry said as he scrambled to his feet.

"All right, never say a Slytherin didn't help a Gryffindor," she warned.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

She rolled her eyes. "Whateva, man. See you around."

He watched her walk out the Great Hall. For some reason, he didn't want her to leave just yet. There were a few things he needed to understand first. Harry walked quickly into the corridor and caught up with her.

"Is Professor Roberts really your grandmother?"

She stopped and turned to him. "What's it to you?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

Nia narrowed her eyes at him. "If you think I suggested her to teach here, then you're wrong. This is between her and Gra--I mean, Professor Dumbledore."

Harry caught her slip of the tongue and wondered what she meant. "You do realize your best friend's father killed my godfather, don't you?" he sneered.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You do realize my best friend is dating your crush, don't you?"

Harry felt his ire rise. "I'll just bet you and he brewed some kind of potion to make her date the ferret!"

"Or maybe, just maybe, Ginny used her own brain for once and decided for herself she'd rather be with Draco than with you. You may be the Boy Who Lived, but you're still just a boy."

She might as well have slapped him, so forceful were the words.

"Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?!"

"I can talk to you however I please!"

"No, you can't! You Slytherins think the world revolves around you . . . there's a war going on, for Merlin's sake!"

"Don't get all high and mighty on me! You're the one who started this argument in the first place. I bet you think I'm going to tell Draco, so he can start taunting you, and that way you won't feel guilty if you hex him or something. You sure you're not supposed to be in Slytherin, Potter?"

His blood turned to ice at the question. For the past five years, he'd ask himself that very question--if he'd been Sorted into the right house. Even with Dumbledore's insistence that only a true Gryffindor could've pulled the sword out the Sorting hat, Harry still didn't feel he deserved a spot in the best House at Hogwarts.

"Don't ever insinuate I should be in the House of Voldemort."

"You make Slytherin sound like such a bad thing," she said with a frown.

Harry laughed hollowly. "Are you joking? Your own founding father didn't want Muggle-borns and half-bloods in Hogwarts! He only wanted purebloods, just like Malfoy."

"Do you know why?"

"Why else? Slytherin didn't think they were good enough."

"Who told you that?"

For some reason Harry began to blush. "Binns . . ."

Nia snorted. "Hearsay. Don't you ever do research yourself?"

"Why would Binns lie?"

"To the victor go the spoils. All you have to do is read Hogwarts, A History to figure that out."

"You're just angry Slytherin was a bigot!"

"Or maybe he wanted to head off a war like this at the pass. He knew many families wouldn't want them to be here, and they would probably do anything and everything to keep them out, like a war. Well, lo and behold, here we are."

"So you agree with him?" Harry scoffed at his own question. "Of course, you do. You are a Slytherin after all."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes, I am a Slytherin, and no, I don't think people of mixed blood shouldn't be here. If that were the case, I wouldn't be in this school, either."

"Right. Do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?"

Nia looked confused. "I've heard of it, but I don't know what it is . . ."

"It was a place Slytherin built, where he housed a Basilisk, a snake that kills Muggle-borns and half-bloods upon sight--to finish his 'noble work.' Explain that."

"I can't . . ."

"Because your House is EVIL! There hasn't been one good person from that house!"

"Snape--"

"Snape is a Death Eater! Did you know that?"

"What?"

Her gasp was so soft, yet it tugged his heart strongly. Nia's face turned ashen, and her amber eyes were wide. He didn't mean to say that, not out loud and definitely not to her. He'd overheard Angelina talking to Fred once and realized who Snape was to Nia.

"Nia I'm--ouch!"

His hand immediately went to his cheek where it throbbed from the strength of her slap. His eyes watered, and he blinked back his tears only to see hers streaming down her face.

"He is a professor here! He works closely with Dumbledore! He's my fa--Head of House! He wouldn't do anything to endanger this school!"

"But--"

"Don't talk to me, Potter! You've said more than enough . . ." she seethed and left him standing alone in the corridor. Alone.

Again.

He sighed and began to walk to his Tower. He was no more than ten paces away from the portrait when he heard a hoot.

"Oh look, it's potty wee Potter!"

Harry rolled his eyes.

Now I wish I was alone!

"Go away, Peeves!"

"Can't! Not just yet! I got something for you . . ."

Whatever it was, Harry was sure he didn't want it.

When he felt the torrent of cold-water pour on him, he knew he was right.

"Peeves!"

"It's not from me. It's a gift from Roberts! Such a lovely child, just like her mother . . ." Peeves cackled as he went on his merry way.

Harry's teeth chattered from the force of his trembling body. He muttered expletives as he walked the rest of the way, blindly searching for his wand in his robe pockets. Suddenly the portrait door swung open.

Great.

"Harry?"

No! Anyone but her!

"Don't want to talk about it, Gin ..."

"But you're all wet."

"Gee, never would've guessed." He felt her glare at him, but he did not care. All he wanted was his wand, so he could dry himself.

"Arefacio!" Ginny exclaimed. Harry's robes dried, and he gave her a look of gratitude.

"Thanks, Gin."

"How did you get wet in the first place?"

He scowled as he walked to her. "Your friend stuck Peeves on me. He dumped water on me."

Ginny turned up her nose at him. "I think it was toilet water. You smell something awful."

His eyes widened, and he sniffed his arm. Sure enough, it reeked. "Bloody Roberts!"

"Roberts? Nia did this? What did you do to her?"

"What did I do to her?" he asked, aghast. "I'm standing here smelling like a toilet you ask what I did to her?"

"Yes. Let's fix that, shall we? Odorifera!" The stench went away, but now he smelled like flowers.

"Ginny!"

"Rather lilacs than a toilet." She shrugged. Harry's dark mood returned, and he marched past her to the portrait.

"Password, dear?" the Fat Lady asked.

He opened his mouth to reply; yet no sound came out.

He didn't know the password.

He looked to Ginny plaintively, but she smirked. "By all means, be my guest," she said, presenting the portrait to him.

"Aren't you going to tell me the password?"

"Oh no, you seem in such a hurry to get away from me you couldn't even wait until I told you. Looks like you're stuck with me for awhile."

"There are worst people I could be stuck with," he said with a grin.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Twizzlers!"

The portrait nodded and swung open. Harry gave her a weird look, and she shrugged. "What? It's a candy Nia gave me. I liked it!"

"It might've been poisoned," he muttered.

"What was that?"

Harry ignored her question and walked into the common room. Hermione was reading her Arithmancy book (already?!), and Dean and Ron were playing wizard's chess. Or rather, Ron was beating Dean to a bloody pulp in wizard's chess.

"I don't even know why I bothered to play with you," Dean moaned as Ron's knight trampled his queen.

"Dean," began Ron with what Harry would call an evil smirk, "just think of this as a, as a sort of demonstration, if you will . . ."

"Demonstration of what?"

Ron's grin became wider, and Harry felt sorry for Dean. "Of what my brothers and I would do if you ever touched Ginny--"

"RON! YOU GREAT BIG PRAT! I COULD KILL YOU!" Ginny exclaimed as she began to smack him upside the head.

"Gin--ouch!--Gin, wait a min--dammit, woman! Hermione!"

"Yes, dear?"

"Get her off me!"

She merely turned a page of her book and did not look at him. "I warned you last year not to get in her business, and you told me to stay out of it. This is me staying out of it."

Ron's mouth dropped in shock. "But--but 'Mion--Ginny! Give me back my wand! No! Don't take it to the girls' dorms--GINNY!"

The common room laughed as Ron tried to chase Ginny up the stairs, only to have them turn into a slide and send him back down.

"Bloody hell!" He growled and stomped up the boys' stairs and slammed the door.

"I knew there was a reason I liked that girl," Harry said.

"What? You like Ginny?" Hermione asked. He groaned but felt his cheeks heat. "Huh, I guess Ron was right then. First time for everything, I suppose . . ."

Harry chuckled and sat down next to her on the couch.

"You two being together is an anomaly."

Hermione smirked. "I see you've been hitting the dictionary as well."

He grinned. "No, that's just one of Ron's favorite new words. He wouldn't stop reciting it all night one time. And he was usually referring to you."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Is that so?"

Harry swallowed nervously. "Yeah. He'd say, 'Hermione is an anomaly because she looks so meek yet is stronger than ten giants put together.'"

She blushed. "He said that about me?"

He grinned. "Yes, he did."

She shrugged. "I guess that's romantic, coming from Ron anyway . . ." Hermione tried to look nonchalant, but he knew she was pleased.

"Right, Hermione."

She shook her head and put down her book. "But this isn't about me. This is about you and Ginny! Oh, Harry, this is so perfect! We could be siblings-in-law!"

He blinked his eyes fast and sat back from her. "Really, Hermione! Aren't we getting a little ahead of ourselves?"

If Hermione wasn't blushing before, she was flaming now. "Forget I said that . . ."

Harry couldn't let this go, however. "I know you're organized and think about the future, Hermione, but how long have you thought of marrying Ron?"

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms. "And what makes you think I'm going to tell you?"

Harry looked sad. "Hermione! I though we were best friends!"

"We are, but you can't tell me your loyalties lie more with Ron than with me. I was just the know-it-all at the beginning. Seems like I still am . . ."

"No, Hermione! Don't think like that!"

She shrugged.

"I love you, so does Ron."

"You love me?" she asked in a small voice.

Harry smiled at her. "'Course I do. You're such a great friend, Hermione. I probably would've been dead by first year had it not been for you!"

She smiled a little. "Ron loves me?"

His smile became wider. "Does he? He's mad about you, Hermione!"

She snorted. "More like mad at me . . ."

"Not hardly, Hermione. He's crazy about you."

"The same way you're crazy about Ginny?"

Harry didn't answer right away. While he was attracted to Ginny, his affections for her were nowhere near the same level as Ron's for Hermione. Then he grinned. "The same way Mr. Weasley is crazy about Mrs. Weasley . . ."

Hermione's face brightened like dawn on a new day, then twilight came. "Then why can't he just tell me so?! Ron can be so thick sometimes."

Harry groaned at her change of attitude. "Honestly, I think he's a little scared."

"Scared of what? Do I look scary to you?" Her brown eyes flashed, and she sat up straight, her hands at her hips.

Harry hesitated in his answer again. "You are a bit intimidating, Hermione."

Her shoulders slumped. "Is that why you won't tell Ginny how you feel? Are you intimidated by her?"

He snorted. "That, and the fact I know she doesn't like me that way."

Hermione looked sympathetic. "Don't be like that, Harry. She's liked you for years; I'm sure Michael Corner was just a substitute for you."

Or someone else . . .

"What's with the frown?" she asked.

He shrugged in defeat. "I think I'm just destined to be alone. It may turn out I won't need a love because I won't be around to love." He remembered the prophecy Dumbledore told him at the end of term:

And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives . . .

A hand slapped his arm. Hard.

"What is it with girls smacking me around today?" he muttered under his breath.

"Don't you ever say a thing like that again!" Hermione chastised, not hearing his comment. "Everyone is destined for love."

Just then Ron came downstairs again with an innocent grin on his face.

"Hermione!" he sang. Hermione and Harry looked at each other skeptically before she smirked.

"Which hex do I need put you in before you promise to leave her alone and I get your wand back for you?"

Ron's face reddened madly, and he gaped at her. "Hermione!"

"That's the only way you're getting your wand back, Ron."

"But 'Mione!" Ron pleaded again.

She affected a yawn, stretching her arms lazily as she stood. "I'm tired, Ron. I'll see you and Harry in the morning." She placed a chaste kiss to Harry's cheek and a light one on Ron's lips before going upstairs. Ron was too shocked to return the gesture.

"I can't believe she just left me!" he said once he left his trance.

Harry snorted. "Ron, she's got you wrapped around her little finger."

Ron opened his mouth to retort but settled on a scowl. He sat down next to Harry dejectedly.

"Why does she have to be such a damn know-it-all?" he asked.

"I think it's because that's one of the things you like most about her, and she knows it."

A silly grin formed on Ron's face. "What's not to like? She's perfect. I'm surprised you didn't go for it when that Skeeter woman was putting you two together."

Harry shrugged. "She only had eyes for you, though I couldn't say the same thing for you . . ."

"What do you mean by that?!"

"Fleur notwithstanding, you were horribly thick in fourth year," Harry broke to him. "Still are in a way . . ."

Ron shoved Harry back on the couch and began to wrestle him. "I'll show you thick . . ."

Harry grunted from Ron's weight. "I get it! Damn, Ron, geroff! I can't breathe . . ."

"Say I'm not thick, mate!"

"Can't very well do that now, can I? I'll bet you outweigh Hagrid!"

A look of indignation washed over his face. "You think me fat?!"

"Dammit, no, Ron! Only you're buffer than before . . . you are hurting me!"

"Really?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, now get off!"

Ron obliged his request with a grin. "You think so, mate?" He flexed his biceps, and Harry groaned.

"I should've never told you that . . ."

"Think Hermione likes it?"

"I think she likes anything that has to do with you, Ron," he answered honestly.

"Thanks, mate."

There was silence for a while.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"What I said to Dean . . ."

"What about it?"

"You know that applies to you too, right?"

It was Harry's turn to do the shoving.