Choices and Consequences

He'd no Ron to work with in Potions this year and to sympathise with his usual plight, so he was looking forward to this lesson even less than he had in previous years, if that were possible.

When he arrived in the Potions dungeon, somewhat out of breath having hurried through the corridors to make it to the classroom on time, he was fortunate that Hermione had saved him a seat next to her. Although there were still a couple of minutes left before the bell was due to ring to signal the start of the class, it was clear that Harry was the last to arrive.

He glanced around the room and took in the array of sixth year students that were attempting NEWT-level Potions. It was a smaller class than he'd had in previous years, even though all four Houses were combined for NEWT-level classes.

Hermione, Dean and Parvati were the only other Gryffindors present and there were just three students from each of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw in the class. Of the Slytherins, Malfoy was the only one of his crowd to be there, though Millicent Bulstrode, Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini were also present.

Harry was surprised that neither the reduced entry requirement nor Snape's normal bias had enabled more Slytherins to get into NEWT Potions. He supposed that even Snape couldn't overlook the gross incompetence of Crabbe and Goyle when it came to their OWL scores.

As usual, Snape strode into the classroom at the very moment the bell sounded for the start of the lesson. Harry suspected that he deliberately waited in his office for that moment, so that he could apprehend any latecomers, even those arriving a few seconds after the official start of class. Snape walked over to his desk and stood behind it, surveying the class.

"So, fourteen students keen to learn the deepest secrets of potion-making that Hogwarts allows?" he began with his usual sneer, his words drawling and echoing around the dungeon.

"Such a shame that few, if any, of you have the talent, temperament, or technique to master the fine art. Consider yourselves privileged that I've been persuaded against my better judgement to allow into my class those who achieved other than an 'Outstanding' in their Potions OWL."

Harry stifled a small chuckle at the thought of Snape's likely reaction when he'd found out that only two students had legitimately qualified for his NEWT-level class. The greasy-haired Potions professor looked up at the small sound but, unable to identify its source, continued as though he'd not heard anything.

"You will all be required to improve your performance, even those of you who scraped the top OWL grade, if you are to achieve your NEWT in this subject. There will be no slacking. There will be no shenanigans in my class. Anyone who disrupts these lessons will leave and will not be permitted to return."

This last was delivered with particular invective, and Snape stared directly at Harry as he did so.

"Do I make myself clear?"

A muted chorus of "Yes, Sir," echoed around the dungeon from the students.

"Good. Make sure you remember that."

Snape walked over to his blackboard and swivelled it around to display a list of ingredients.

"We shall start with a practical lesson, and you will work on your own," he told them, directing the emphasis of his words at Hermione, who had the decency to blush at the insight.

'Typical of him,' Harry thought as the professor cast his gaze across the room. 'Starts by making us do the work instead of actually teaching us anything.'

His attention was drawn back to the front of the class by the Potion-master's words.

"Pay close attention to the instructions on the board. You have one hour to brew the potion described."

The instructions didn't identify the potion, but after a quick read through the ingredients on the blackboard, Harry had a vague recollection of brewing it before.

He left his desk and collected the ingredients from the store cupboard. He was glad that he'd had lessons during the summer that made up for the inadequacies of Snape's teaching, though he had to admit that he'd worked much harder than he ever had in any of his Hogwarts Potions classes. But, for once, he could actually recognise the ingredients, and understood the properties they had that made them useful in potion making.

As he collected the ingredients together, it struck Harry that the combination looked decidedly familiar, either from studying the textbook over the summer, or perhaps from one of the other Potions books he'd picked up, and he paused a moment once he got back to his desk to see if he could locate the reference in the book.

Something about the quantities used didn't seem quite right, and he wanted to check up with Snape's own Potions text.

Before he'd done more than open the cover though, a hand slapped down on the book.

"I don't recall telling you to utilise your textbooks for this exercise, Potter," Snape sneered as he looked down at the Gryffindor.

"I just wanted to check something in relation to the ingredients, Sir," Harry replied politely, reigning in his exasperation at Snape's interference.

"I think not." Snape picked up Harry's textbook and strode back behind his desk from where he could oversee the entire class. "You may collect your book at the end of the lesson."

Harry fumed at this, but realised he'd have to get on with his potion without looking up his hunch about this particular recipe. Anyway, Snape's actions had basically confirmed Harry's suspicion that there was something amiss about the instructions they'd been given.

He looked across at Hermione, whose wide eyes suggested little except a hope that Harry would keep his temper, and she shook her head at him in the knowledge that even if they tried to talk, it wouldn't take Snape long to start taking House Points from Gryffindor and issuing detentions.

He looked towards the front of the classroom and could see Snape's hawk-like eyes upon him, almost daring him to ask Hermione his question.

He sighed deeply and went back to preparing his ingredients, with his suspicion in mind, and carefully re-read the instructions on the blackboard, then got on with following them as closely as possible, concentrating carefully on his work.

He completed the task just before the hour was up and without anything going wrong as far as he could see, but he still couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was something wrong with the instructions.

Bottling the required amount in three medium sized flasks, he placed the potions on the desk in front of him and withdrew his wand, casting an imperturbable charm on them so that they couldn't be disturbed, whether maliciously by Malfoy as had been known to happen in the past, or accidentally.

He sat back down in his seat with relief at having finished in time, and apparently correctly, noticing with satisfaction that he was one of the first few to have finished his work. Hermione looked across at his results and nodded and smiled at him, as they appeared identical to those in the flasks on her own desk, and again Harry felt a glimmer of triumph that he'd completed the assignment without having to be prompted or helped by his bushy-haired friend.

Having a few moments to spare, Harry leaned back in his seat and had time to think about the potion he'd just created and what it would be used for, and had to catch hold of the edge of the desk when a burst of insight caught him unawares and he nearly fell backwards off his chair.

With a gleam in his eye, Harry realised that he knew exactly what the potion was, and why it looked so familiar. It hadn't been the quantity that was wrong, he figured, it was the fact that the potion in his book had required a slightly different ingredient.

He wondered why on earth Snape had given them instructions to use troll's blood, rather than giant's blood - he remembered from the research that John had made him do into the use of blood in potions that the troll's blood would probably make the effects of the potions last much, much longer than the same potion with giant's blood, which normally lasted only 1-2 days.

The only question was: who on earth needed a potion that would allow them to go without sleep for such a long period, and why?

The hour came to a close shortly after that, and although it was apparent that one or two of the potions weren't complete, Snape insisted that they bottle what they'd got.

Michael Corner's potion was a dirty brown colour rather than the deep red that most of the class had developed, while Dean Thomas's was exceptionally thin and runny, presumably because he hadn't had time to let it cool and add the final ingredients before decanting it into flasks.

"Your homework from this class is an essay of eighteen inches of parchment on the potion you've just made, what the properties of the ingredients contribute to it and what it's uses are, to be handed in at the start of Wednesday's class," Snape informed them.

A muted groan rose from the class. First lesson of the new term and they already had homework.

"Now, Mister Potter," he continued, "without showing off and doing part of everyone else's homework for them by telling us what the potion is and what it does, I want you to tell me what you were going to look up in your textbook."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the sallow-faced Professor, wondering where this train of questioning was going to lead.

"I wanted to check the recipe against that in the book, because I thought that I recalled this potion had a slightly different ingredient," he replied carefully, trying to avoid a detailed explanation.

"Which ingredient, Potter?" Snape demanded. "Whatever made you think that you knew better than me, and to question the instructions I wrote out for you?"

"The troll's blood, sir," Harry responded truthfully. "I thought that the recipe in your textbook specified Giant's blood instead."

"Thank you, Potter, take two points for Gryffindor, for actually reading the textbook before the start of term and for paying attention," Snape said with a grimace, to the surprise of the whole class.

"Now, to keep those two points, please describe Troll's blood for me."

Harry started to list the properties of Troll's blood, but before he'd got past the first comment about strengthening potions, Snape cut him off.

"Not it's properties, Potter. What does it look like?"

A small noise of frustration from Hermione distracted Harry for a moment, as he turned toward her to see what the problem was.

"Miss Granger, I see you understand my question," Snape said, turning to Hermione with a roll of his eyes.

"Please enlighten the rest of the class for me, since they clearly came into NEWT-level potions totally unprepared," he said, gesturing dismissively at the rest of the students.

"Whilst the properties of giant's and troll's blood are sim-" she started but was rudely interrupted.

"Briefly, Miss Granger. Don't recite the textbook to me," Snape told her snidely.

Hermione blushed, but took a deep breath and started again.

"Troll's blood is orange, not red like most humanoids. They have less iron in their bloodstream," she explained.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. Now can somebody else tell me what that means for the potions you've all just made?"

Hermione had her head in her hands on the workstation top, so it was clear that she understood what the problem was, even if nobody else did. Parvati tentatively put her hand up.

"Miss Patil?"

"It means we've actually used giant's blood after all?" she suggested.

"Not necessarily, but you're on the right lines."

Malfoy looked smugly at all the others, clearly having figured out the problem, and raised his hand.

"The problem, sir, is that although we know that what we've used in the potion isn't troll's blood, since we know that troll's blood is orange, and the ingredient we used was red, we don't actually know what the ingredient was."

"Thank you, Mister Malfoy," Snape said with a smile. "Slightly inaccurate, but take five points for Slytherin, nonetheless. Miss Granger, you have something to add to that?" he asked, seeing Hermione raise her hand again.

"Yes, sir. We should be able to determine what the ingredient actually was from two sources: the physical properties of the ingredient itself and the effects of the resulting potion, sir," she said.

"Very good, Miss Granger. I'll let Gryffindor keep the points that Mister Potter earned if you can tell me why the latter method might not be appropriate."

Hermione thought for a moment. "Because the effects of the potion might only be obvious by ingesting the potion, and if you aren't totally sure what the ingredients are and how they react together, it's probably not wise to test it in that manner?" she asked.

"Precisely. Another reason, though not as important for safety reasons, might be that the effects of some potions don't become evident for several hours or even days, which if Mr Potter correctly understands the implications of using troll's blood instead of giant's blood in this particular potion, was probably one reason why he wanted to look it up in his textbook."

Harry nodded at this, as although he hadn't figured this out at the point where Snape had confiscated his text, he would certainly have been looking it up had he still got the book to check against.

"Now, what's the important lesson that you need to remember about this? Mr Macmillan?"

Ernie hadn't raised his hand, and looked a little startled to be called on to answer the question. "Um, make sure we've got the right ingredients, and concentrate on getting the instructions correct?" he offered hopefully.

Snape sneered at him. "That should be evident even to a Hufflepuff," he said scathingly. "What I'm talking about is making assumptions. You all blithely went off into the store cupboard and picked up a flask labelled 'troll's blood' assuming that was what it contained.

"None of you questioned the fact that the ingredient was the wrong colour, and seemingly only Mister Potter understood what potion he was making and recalled the fact that it should have been made with giant's blood, not troll's blood."

Snape looked disgusted at having to single out Harry for praise, even if it wasn't a particularly glowing tribute, though his disgust seemed to be at least partially aimed at the rest of the class for forcing him into it, especially the Slytherins who should have been much more awake to the point he was trying to make.

Harry grudgingly concluded that Snape had a pretty good point. Everyone in the class had made the assumption that all the ingredients were correctly labelled, without stopping to consider the implications of an incorrectly brewed potion. For the second time this lesson, Harry was thankful for the extra potions tutoring he'd had from John over the summer.

"Now that you've all got the point, I want to see three flasks on my desk from each student. One House Point will be awarded to each student who provides me with three flasks of the deep red coloured potions that I know you should have brewed. Anyone who had at least one flask of deep red potion will have no points deducted, but those who can't provide one full flask, or whose potion is not the correct colour, will have two points deducted."

Most of the class had managed to earn a point as they deposited their work on Snape's desk, although Michael Corner lost points for Ravenclaw with his brown coloured potion, and Dean's runny results earned him a scathing glance from the potions-master and no points. Only Susan Bones failed to provide a full flask of potion, as she had mistakenly only decanted a small sample before clearing the remainder away, not realising she would have to submit it. Although her potion was the correct colour and consistency, there just wasn't sufficient of it to satisfy Snape, and Hufflepuff were deducted two points.

"Interesting," Professor Snape drawled once all the samples had been delivered to him for judgement. "At least the majority of you managed to brew the potion correctly, even if you did use an incorrect ingredient. For your homework assignment, you should assume that you have actually used giant's blood, as the textbook indicates. Class dismissed."

The students shuffled out, muttering to themselves about the way that Snape had tricked them, but Harry felt that it had been a useful lesson, one of the rare few he'd had in Potions.

The odd one or two students that were taking both Potions and History of Magic rushed off to their next lesson, but the vast majority either headed to the library to get a start on their homework, or back to their common room to relax before lunch.

Harry hung back for a few moments to retrieve his textbook from Snape, since although he had known by the end what the potion was, he certainly didn't feel comfortable attempting his homework without the aid of the book.

"I see you've learned a few things over the holidays," Snape noted with a sneer as Harry approached his desk. "I do hope this means you're actually prepared for my classes for once?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, not particularly wanting to hang around the dungeons while Snape had a go at him. It was probably only that reason that stopped Harry from pointing out how much he'd learned form basic textbooks that he could have done with back in his first year.

"Make sure it continues."

The Potions master glared at Harry with hard eyes, making him feel a little nervous until he realised that he could feel another presence in his mind.

He slammed it out as quickly as he could, not caring whether it meant that Snape knew his Occlumency was significantly improved as well, and hid a smirk at the flash of realisation that went across Snape's face, which was carefully covered up by a sneer and a calculating look in the man's eyes.

"Here, Potter," Snape held the textbook out to him, without any further acknowledgement of Harry's skills. "Don't hang around, I've got another class to prepare for."

"Sir?" he asked tentatively. "Would you mind telling me what the ingredient was that was marked as troll's blood?"

Snape peered at him for a moment, and Harry continued with his train of thought.

"I mean, I'm presuming that the potion was for actual use, since you asked us to supply so much - normally you'd just want a small vial to mark us from - but the Asomnolus potion-"

Snape let out a soft chuckle, startling Harry, who had seen little evidence of humour from him in the five years he'd been at Hogwarts, and cutting off the sentence.

"Can't you guess?" he asked with a feral grin. "The fact that I actually collected the samples should mean something to you. Now get moving so I can sort out these useless second year Gryffindors."

Harry didn't press the issue further, but his mind was working overtime as he wandered back up to Gryffindor Tower.

The only reason he could think for Snape to actually collect the potions and keep them was be if they were actually useful. That either meant that it was giant's blood they'd used, or possibly that was actually troll's blood they'd used, but it had been dyed red for the purposes of the class, so that Snape could make his point about examining the ingredients before using them.

The possibilities were starting to make his head spin though, so he put thoughts of his Potions lesson behind him.

After his free period, Harry made his way down to the Great Hall for lunch, where the major topic of discussion among most of the students was how well, or otherwise, their morning classes had gone. Some of the sixth years, including Ron, had enjoyed a free morning, since they weren't attempting NEWTs in either Potions or History of Magic, and of course the Gryffindors that had dropped Potions were eagerly awaiting a report on Snape's behaviour that morning.

Some had heard rumours that he'd been even more vindictive than usual and had ragged on the whole class for their poor attitude, but Harry and Hermione both felt that the lesson had been pretty reasonable, although Hermione wasn't quite so keen on Snape's methods of getting them to pay proper attention to the ingredients they were supposed to be using.

The library had apparently been full of gossip among the students that had gone straight there after the Potions class, and Harry was surprised that Madam Pince hadn't turfed them all out to continue their noise elsewhere, but there had been no sign of anyone in the Gryffindor common room when Harry had returned there, and he'd spent an hour relaxing and sorting stuff out in his trunk for future use.

Once again, the first years were segregated from the remainder of the Hall and sat at their own table immediately in front of the teachers' dais, where a few of the staff, including Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Flitwick had emerged to spend their lunchtime with the students. Harry wondered whether they had turned up specifically to keep an eye on the first years or whether it was simply a coincidence that they had all decided today that they would dine in public.

Harry finished his meal and asked Hermione and Ron to come with him to talk to the first years again. As he settled down with them he noticed that they were much more relaxed about his presence now, particularly compared to how they had been that morning. He asked them how their morning had gone, and whether Dumbledore had resolved the situation with their Sorting.

As he talked to them, he noticed the six prefects from the other Houses that he had approached that morning to break the ice with the newcomers all started to make their way over to the table as well, and joined Harry and his friends.

A sandy-haired boy named Graham Wallace explained that after breakfast, Dumbledore and McGonagall had told them that, for the first time in around a thousand years, they were not going to split the first years up, so they wouldn't be allocated to a particular House.

"Did he say how they were going to look after you?" Harry asked him. "Each of the four Houses has a teacher that looks after their interests: Snape for Slytherin, Flitwick for Ravenclaw, Sprout for Hufflepuff, and McGonagall for Gryffindor," he added.

"Professor Dumbledore said that the Muggle Studies teacher, Professor Charles, would basically be looking out for us," replied a skinny lad Harry thought was called Richard. "We met him this morning, an he seems to be okay."

"I'm just disappointed that I won't have the opportunity to get to know my cousin's friends a little better," sniffed the outspoken Nicola Mavelli. "After all, if they're worth him knowing, there might be some benefit to socialising with them for me too."

Now that was the more traditional Slytherin attitude, Harry thought, someone who understood that networking and contacts might be just as important as knowledge or courage or loyalty. Looking at Irene and Matthias, he could see that they were thinking the same way, and Irene gave Harry a quirky little grin as though to say: 'I know what you're thinking'.

"So how are you all going to get to know the rest of the school then?" Harry asked them, but none of them could really provide an answer.

He was still a little worried about them becoming isolated as a unit of first years, rather than integrating within the school, and thought something more proactive ought to be done to try and prevent that, even if it wasn't really his place to instigate it.

He turned to Ron, first of all. "How would you feel about us eating our meals here with the first years, rather than at the Gryffindor table?" he asked.

Ron looked a little taken aback at the suggestion. "I'm not sure really. It's not as though it would make any difference to what we get served to eat," he commented with a grin at the popular characterisation of him as being primarily concerned with what went into his stomach. "I don't mind really, as long as it's not just me. What about you others?"

The other prefects looked at each other, but nobody had any particular objections.

"I don't think we'd want to commit to that for every meal, Harry," suggested Susan. "We still like to have dinner with our friends, you know." There were a few nods from the others at this.

"Well you could bring some of them, too," Harry suggested. "I'll have a word with Dumbledore and see what we can do about it."

Privately, Harry thought that it didn't really make much difference where one sat, whether at the House table or not, but in recent times it seemed almost an unwritten rule that you didn't go and sit at another House's table. Harry couldn't even recall anyone being invited to dine with another House in the five years he had been at Hogwarts, and could only imagine that it was this sort of divisive tradition that the Sorting Hat was tired of.

He would have been perfectly happy to eat his meals with students from other Houses, and perhaps starting to get people from across the school to sit with the first years would help spread that attitude.

As the students left the Hall, Harry stepped up to the teacher's table.

"Professor Dumbledore? Have you any objection to more than the first years using this front table?" he asked.

"No, Harry," the Headmaster replied. "Did you have something in mind?"

Harry explained his concerns about the first years becoming isolated from the rest of the school and how he thought it would be helpful to allow anyone from any House to join the first years so that they could get to know them.

Dumbledore looked at Harry with interest over his half-moon spectacles.

"I can't see that I have any particular problems with this. I'll make sure that there's room for fifteen or twenty extra people. I did think you'd perhaps been speaking with Alastor Moody."

Harry didn't really have an answer to that - he hadn't seen Moody since they were on the train, and he hadn't realised that the former Auror was actually staying in the castle.

"Ah, perhaps not then," the Headmaster acknowledged, at Harry's blank expression.

"Mister Moody was keen for me to take the Sorting Hat's words to a greater degree than simply not Sorting the first years. I thought you were perhaps going to suggest that all the years mingle, rather than sit by House."

"Oh I see," Harry replied thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought of that really, but I suppose it's an extension of what we're already doing."

"Indeed," Dumbledore noted.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Do you know why the Sorting Hat has done this?"

"Not really, I'm afraid. I can only surmise that it feels a show of unity is required, as indeed it reminded us that it had suggested last year. What that means for the school, I cannot be sure," Dumbledore sighed. "Anyhow, I think it best not to share my speculation in public. Perhaps if you were to come to my office later, as I have a few other things to talk to you about as well?"

Harry nodded, and the Headmaster said he would send for him after classes had finished, then pushed his chair back from the dinner table and headed out of the Hall.

Harry found it strange to be taking lessons with the fifth years, as he headed up the steps to the Astronomy Tower. He didn't know any of them that well - this class consisted of Hufflepuffs and Slytherins - but he supposed that was the price to pay if he wanted to retake his Astronomy OWL. There were a few people he did know though, since the other sixth years that had opted to retake Astronomy had also joined the group for the first lesson of the year.

It was a bit confusing, with different class plans for each of these sessions, as they had been arranged to coincide with different sections of the timetable to allow everyone to attend - this particular fifth year class clashed with the NEWT Ancient Runes class, but fortunately none of those re-taking had actually opted to study Runes at NEWT level.

The other sessions would be a Wednesday evening practical session that would be shared with the NEWT classes, a fourth year Wednesday morning class that Harry wouldn't be able to attend since it clashed with his NEWT Transfiguration lesson, and a Friday afternoon spot that matched up with History of Magic on the timetable, and would contain fifth years studying towards their own OWL.

It seemed as though Professor Sinistra had gone out of her way to ensure they had plenty of opportunity to review their OWL classes before they retook the exam shortly before Christmas, although she insisted that they keep quiet in class and allow the fourth and fifth years to answer questions, since they were learning the subject for the first time.

After an hour of Astronomy, Harry and the other sixth years headed off to their next NEWT class, Defence against the Dark Arts. As Harry arrived at the Defence classroom, he could see that it was almost full already.

For the first time in Harry's experience at Hogwarts, the class was large enough to have needed the classroom magically expanded, and it was much bigger than it appeared from the outside.

He found a seat with Ron and Hermione and stole a look around the room, seeing who was present for this particular class. Surprisingly, all the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were there, as well as about half the Slytherins.

Only when Harry questioned Hermione about it did he realise that the only sixth year students that were absent at all were five Slytherins: four that had failed the OWL (including Crabbe and Goyle, to Harry's satisfaction), and Daphne Greengrass, who he learned was the only person to have chosen not to take the Defence NEWT.

A babble of noise went around the room as the students talked to their friends as they waited for the teacher to arrive, and Harry could hear Parvati and Lavender speculating why Daphne had chosen not to take this class.

The chattering stopped almost instantly as Professor Silverwood strode into the room, his gaze sweeping from side to side to take in the students assembled before him, as he made his way up to the desk at the front of the classroom.

"Good afternoon, all," he greeted them softly, and was met with "Good afternoon, Professor" from a number of students in response, though nowhere near as half-heartedly as had been the case in Umbridge's first class a year ago.

"I understand that you've had a fair range of teachers instructing you in this particular subject, ranging from Death Eaters to Dark Creatures, and quality from the best to the utterly miserable," he addressed the class. "I can assure you that I will, despite the activities of my immediate predecessor, be teaching you in the practical art of Defence and not simply the theory."

This pronouncement came as a great relief to the majority of the students, and a number of them sighed audibly. Even if Silverwood was as sadistic as Umbridge had been, at least he was actively going to teach them to defend themselves, not just rely on the textbooks. Harry relaxed a little. Even if he were eventually convinced into continuing the DA, the pressure wouldn't be so great if they were actually learning practical defence in classes.

"Now, first things first, how many of you have actually used your magic in a combat situation, either in practice or for real?" Silverwood asked, scanning the class with his eyes.

Almost all the students' hands were raised. Harry was unsurprised that the members of the DA, of which there were around fifteen, raised their hands, but all the Slytherins' hands were raised as well, and a few of the non-DA students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw too.

"Okay, that's good. I have to say that I'm surprised that so many of you have had practical experience. Nonetheless, that can only be helpful.

"Of those of you that raised your hands before, how many of you have actually had to use your magic to save your lives in a combat situation, rather than simply as practice?"

This time only a few hands were raised: Harry, Hermione, Ron and Neville, but also Malfoy and Blaise Zabini. Silverwood raised his eyebrows at the number of hands in the air, even though he must have been aware from his connections in the Ministry that the first four had been involved at the Department of Mysteries.

Harry wondered idly where Malfoy and Zabini had needed to use their magic in life threatening situations, and was intrigued at the venomous looks the two were exchanging. Perhaps all wasn't rosy among the Slytherins after all, despite Malfoy's supposed leadership in the House.

Any further speculation was curtailed by Silverwood calling the six of them up to the front of the class for a demonstration.

"Right, I'm going to put you in pairs, and you're going to have to work together against me," he told them. "Mister Malfoy and Mister Weasley, you two first."

Harry and the other three stepped to one side as Professor Silverwood created a duelling area in the space behind his desk, and moved the desk to one side so that the whole class could observe. The duelling area wasn't a long platform like they had used in the duelling club back in Harry's second year, but was simply an area marked out on the floor that spanned the majority of the width of the classroom, and was five or six yards deep, allowing more manoeuvrability than the duelling platform yet still restricting the duellers to a fairly confined area.

Meanwhile, Ron and Malfoy were eyeing each other with distaste, no doubt vowing to watch their own backs as well as trying to duel against their Defence teacher, but they faced up to Silverwood as he gave the instruction to begin the duel.

Malfoy began by throwing out the most offensive curses that he could think of short of the Unforgivables. It appeared that even though he was willing to use them on Harry when he had no apparent witnesses, he wasn't yet prepared for almost the whole sixth year and one of the teachers to be aware that he was moderately proficient at them.

The first curse span across the room in a flash of blue lightning, but Silverwood erected a simple shield that deflected the curse back towards the blond Slytherin, who barely dodged out of the way of it in time as it boomeranged back towards him, finally exploding against the wall behind him .

He cast an ugly glare at Ron as though it were his fault that the spell had rebounded towards him rather than meeting its mark, and waited as Ron tried out a couple of curses of his own, a Stunning spell quickly followed by a cutting hex, which Silverwood evaded simply by stepping out of the way, before responding with a Stunning spell of his own, aimed slightly to Malfoy's left, causing him to leap to one side, directly into Ron.

Both boys fell to the floor, but righted themselves before they came to any serious harm, Ron casting a Shield spell as he heard the Defence teacher cast the Disarming curse at the two of them. The shield provided them with sufficient cover to get back to their feet, but the two students were now on the defensive, as Silverwood began to pepper them with hexes and curses of a fairly basic nature, but which kept them leaping around and casting Shield spells without being able to fire any of their own curses of in return.

Silverwood was pretty rapid, Harry noted, but was still taking time between spells to think about which spells he wanted to cast and where he wanted to aim them, even as he uttered his incantations and the spells hit on or close to their targets.

Eventually, Ron was hit by a Freezing charm that got through his defences before he was ready, and was disarmed, leaving Malfoy to fend for himself against the much more experienced opponent.

On his own Malfoy was no match for Silverwood, whose spells now came thick and fast, even more quickly than when he had been faced with two opponents. Now that he was down to one-on-one, he apparently felt less need to strategise and could concentrate on taking his opponent out. It only took a few moments before he broke through Malfoy's Shield charm and was able to disarm him as well, to the general applause of the remaining students.

He revived the two fallen students and directed them back to their seats with a word of appreciation for their effort, though the grimace on Ron's face suggested he was less than happy with his performance and the thunderous look on Malfoy's indicated his own embarrassed displeasure, then turned to the four awaiting students.

"Miss Granger and Mister Longbottom next please," Silverwood requested, nodding at the two Gryffindors.

The two Gryffindors tentatively took their place in the duelling area, and Silverwood gave them the signal to begin. Neville started by flinging as many curses as he could at the teacher as quickly as possibly, seeing how he had dealt with Ron and Malfoy. He kept Silverwood on the hop, making the Professor dodge some curses and use a shield charm to reverse others back in the direction of his attackers.

Meanwhile, Hermione used a complex transfiguration spell and turned the empty teacher's chair into a small dog, which she animated and sent forward towards the Defence teacher, snapping around his heels. The rest of the room looked on in amazement at Hermione's transfiguration, but Silverwood simply raised an eyebrow at the bushy-haired Gryffindor and as soon as he had a moment free from Neville's assault of curses, pointed his wand at the dog and made it vanish.

Hermione was a little put out that he had managed to dispose of her careful creation so easily, but put her mind back into casting offensive spells. It was none too soon, since Neville was running out of stamina, and was starting to falter in between castings as he started to run out of new spells and combinations of spells to use. She focused on keeping their professor moving so that he was sufficiently off balance that he couldn't counter-attack against Neville's curses, concentrating on aiming blasting spells and stunning spells at Silverwood's feet, but Neville had tired quickly and his wand arm drooped as he attempted to summon the energy for a further onslaught.

Eventually, Silverwood was able to start sending curses of his own back, largely at Neville who was clearly the weaker of the two at this point. He still sent an occasional hex at Hermione to make sure that she didn't think she could relax and work on more advanced magic, but spent most of his time attacking.

Neville's now had to focus solely on defence, his shield charm proving to be very effective against single spells, but sapping yet more energy from him as he kept re-casting it.

Hermione tried to break through Silverwood's own shield on a number of occasions, but although she kept him on the move by sending curses rebounding around the whole room, she was unable to penetrate the solid defences that the teacher had erected, and her own attack began to waver, as she started to run out of ideas.

Noticing the effect that constantly re-casting the shield was having on Neville, Harry turned to Blaise Zabini, who was destined to be his partner for the final demonstration of the afternoon.

"How's your shield spell?" he muttered.

"Not all that great," Zabini responded. "It might be a little better than Longbottom's and I may not need to be reset it after every strike on it, but it's still not great."

"Then how about I concentrate on shielding us both, and you work on getting through Silverwood's defences?" Harry suggested.

Zabini looked at Harry speculatively. "You sure? I'm a Slytherin, remember."

Harry chuckled quietly. "I think it's you that will need to trust me in this particular case - after all, I'm the one who'll be shielding you.

"I know Ron might think that Slytherin means evil, but I don't exactly subscribe to that view. Besides, if Malfoy can get through a duel partnering Ron without hexing him, I'm sure we can at least co-operate?"

"Sounds fine to me," Zabini agreed, as they watched Neville finally tire enough so that one of Silverwood's spells got through his shield, stunning him and dropping him to the floor.

Now Hermione was fighting on her own, and once again Silverwood concentrated on quick-fire combinations of spells designed to get under her guard at the first possible opportunity. Hermione's was able to cast as good a shield as Neville, which kept her in the fight for a while, but now she too was focused solely on defence, and gave up any pretence of taking the attack back to the Professor.

The jets of light that flew across the room towards Hermione and the sounds of the incantations were now the only things claiming the attention of the class as the watched Hermione's staunch defence against their teacher. She occasionally cast a slightly different shield as she felt her regular one weaken under the blast of some of the more powerful curses that Silverwood sent her way, but that seemed to take even more effort, and she was forced to keep fairly immobile and concentrate on casting her shield as quickly and strongly as possible.

The class was obviously impressed with her tenacity, but eventually the mental fatigue began to take its toll on Hermione's concentration, and it started to slip more often. A couple of blasting hexes forced her to close her eyes and screw up her face as she tried to focus all her mental energy on the shield, and ultimately, she was the only one surprised when the curses stopped flying for a moment or two.

Opening her eyes cautiously, she found that Silverwood was no longer in front of her, and as she turned to see if he had snuck up behind her, felt a hand on her back, pushing her forwards onto her face. Of course this finally broke her concentration, and Silverwood was able to disarm her easily.

"Very good, Miss Granger," the professor complimented Hermione on her effort as he revived Neville. "You did very well there. It was only by tricking you that I was able to get you to drop the shield. Five points to Gryffindor for your efforts," he added, handing her wand back to her and Neville's back to him as he revived him.

"That's the sort of commitment to this class that I expect from all of you," he told the class as a group. Unless you are prepared to fight to your limits, you are not going to survive against the Dark Lord's forces. Miss Granger's shield wouldn't have stopped an Unforgivable getting through, but it prevented just about everything else - you heard the range of spells I used. That is the sort of mental strength that you are going to need."

Hermione turned pink at the praise that Silverwood bestowed on her, and was oblivious to the malevolent glares she was getting from Malfoy. Professor Silverwood turned to Harry and Zabini. "Okay you two, let's see what you've got to offer."

Harry stepped forward to his spot in the duelling area, and Zabini took a position behind him where he was half obscured from Silverwood's view.

The Defence teacher's eyebrows rose at the slightly unusual formation, but didn't provide any comment, merely signalling for the contest to begin.

As Neville had done, Zabini started off with a barrage of spells that would keep their opponent on the back foot, while Harry bided his time, ready to cast his shield at a moment's notice. He also threw in an occasional hex when he was sure that Silverwood wasn't in a position to launch an attack of his own.

Their combined efforts appeared to be having some effect on the Professor's defences, especially when Harry added his own attacks, but slowly Silverwood began to start throwing his own curses back. As they had agreed, Harry took responsibility for blocking the curses that flew their way, allowing Zabini to maintain his assault.

Their co-ordinated approach meant that Silverwood had to divide his concentration between attacking and defending, allowing Harry and Zabini a lot more time to work on their own spells. Finally a good cutting hex from Zabini got through the shield, and Harry followed it up with a stunning spell while Silverwood was distracted and dealing with Zabini's hex.

Unfortunately, although Harry's stunner was on target, Silverwood was able to dodge out its way and, even though he got caught up in a minor tripping hex that Zabini had placed neatly for that purpose, was able to get his shield back up again to deflect the disarming spell that Harry fired off.

Of course, this put him back on the defensive once again, and Harry was able to take more opportunities to attack instead of focusing entirely on the need to protect the two of them.

Almost fifteen minutes into the duel, the class started to get restless. It appeared that neither side would win unless someone made a mistake and it was becoming something of a stalemate but, defying logic, Silverwood ignored his defences for a moment, taking a minor cutting curse in the left arm in the process, and went back on the attack, forcing Harry to concentrate on blocking the curses once again.

A further ten minutes went by as Zabini and Silverwood threw hexes at each other and Harry concentrated hard on blocking, deflecting, or destroying those that headed their way. Eventually though, a curse slipped through Harry's shields and defensive spells, and hit Zabini in the right shoulder.

Harry hadn't heard what the spell was, only seeing the blue light as it flashed across the room at a much greater speed than anything else Silverwood had thrown at them, but he did hear the sound of bone breaking, and Zabini cursing at him for letting it through. Dropping his wand, Zabini swore and went down to his knees, while Harry concentrated deflecting the spells that Silverwood now rained down on him.

"Damnit, Potter, you had to let that one through, didn't you?" the fallen Slytherin complained.

Harry grunted slightly in acknowledgement and spared a moment to mutter back. "Sorry, he slipped that in a bit quicker," he apologised, as he ducked under a flare of red light.

Zabini looked up at Harry, and noticed the increased pace of curses that were raining down on him from Silverwood's wand. "Okay, well let's see what I can do," he grunted, picking up his wand in his left hand, but remaining on his knees.

He fired a couple of quick stunning spells back at Silverwood, who jumped to one side in surprise, not expecting Zabini to return fire once he was injured, and this allowed Harry to return fire with a disarming spell and a cutting hex, both of which the Professor barely avoided, before getting his shield up in time to block another couple of curses that Zabini sent his way.

Finally, Silverwood called for a truce. He looked at the two students with respect, gesturing for Harry to return to his seat and calling Zabini over to check on the wounded shoulder.

"Well done, you two," he noted between heavy breaths. "That was exceptional work. Ten points each for your efforts."

He wrote a quick note and gave it to the Slytherin, with instructions to see Madam Pomfrey immediately, and Zabini shuffled off out of the classroom to the Hospital Wing.

He took a few more deep breaths to recover his composure and addressed the class

"Right then, you should take pointers from that last duel. Who can tell me why what Mister Potter and Mister Zabini did worked so well?"

Ron raised his hand high in the air.

"Mister Weasley?"

"They worked as a team instead of trying to take you down individually. Oh, also Harry's pretty powerful."

This brought a laugh from most of the class, though it was noticeable that Malfoy didn't join in the hilarity.

"Very good Mister Weasley. I'm sure the additional comment was for comic effect, but essentially you are correct. They acted together.

"That meant that while Mister Potter was concentrating on dealing with my attacks, Mister Zabini was free to work on breaking through my own defences without having to worry about defending himself. That's a very powerful advantage, and it's one that most Aurors use when they are teamed in pairs or more, particularly when facing a small group of attackers."

Silverwood spent the remainder of the lesson giving them examples of situations where working as a team to combat an enemy was particularly advantageous, and most of the class took copious notes. It seemed that once again they had a Defence teacher that was interested in teaching them how to defend themselves rather than being scared that they'd use their knowledge and practical experience for 'evil'.

It didn't seem long until the bell sounded and students started piling out of the classroom. Many of them headed outside to their next lesson, Herbology, which Harry wasn't taking, and Ron and Hermione said goodbye to Harry.

He was just thinking of heading back up to the sixth year boys' dormitory to do a quick revision of his Charms text prior to the first lesson the following day when Professor McGonagall stepped out of an adjoining corridor and stopped him.

"I hoped I would catch you after your lesson, Mister Potter," she advised with a satisfied look on her face. "The Headmaster would like to see you in his office, please."