Harry Potter and the Forbidden Passage

Harry awoke with his hand clutched to his scar. The pain was dull now but it throbbed slightly and he knew that it must have been burning for some time. He felt exhausted from a night of broken sleep, as though he had been awake the whole time.

Vague images and sounds lingered in his mind - green and red flashes of light and screaming. Horrible screams that still resonated clearly, echoing in his dreams. They were screams of fear, grief, and suffering.

Added to this was another feeling, but one that was not his own. He recognized that nauseating sensation in the pit of his stomach and the dull ache at his temples all too well. Voldemort was angry and disappointed. Something hadn't occurred as he had hoped.

Harry knew that he wasn't supposed to be having these feelings and visions. And he knew that he ought to tell Dumbledore or someone about his dreams, but what could they do about it anyway? How could some vague sensations and images possibly make any difference now? What was done was done and people were probably dead. There was nothing he or anyone else could do. No one could bring the dead back to life. No matter how young the dead were or how innocent or how much they were needed in this world.

Don't go there, Potter. Don't think of that. Mustn't think of that. Anything but that. He's dead and there's nothing you can do. Nothing. It's better to forget…but I can't forget.

He tried to empty his mind from dismal reminders of Sirius. If he could only know what had happened to him or understand why Sirius would have been taken from him so soon, he felt that he might be able to achieve some peace.

Pulling the blanket up higher, he resolved to make up some of the sleep he had lost. But sleep wouldn't come. And the chink of light coming through the thin split between the bed curtains was growing steadily brighter, while the noise beyond gradually changed from Neville's soft snoring to the shrill ring of Dean's alarm clock, followed closely by Ron's yawning.

As he listened, Harry remained silent and still. Finally, he heard the sounds he had been waiting for - numerous feet shuffling out of their dormitory and the click of the door as it closed behind them. Once they were gone, Harry still made no move to open his bed curtains. Completely exhausted, he had every intention of remaining exactly where he was for at least another hour. He certainly wasn't in any mood to go down to breakfast and face anyone at the moment.

Just as Harry was ready to drift back to sleep, he heard Ron's distinctive footfall approaching. He wasn't alone after all.

"Harry?" Ron asked tentatively.

Harry didn't have to answer. He could just lie there and pretend he was asleep. Then Ron would go away and he could be left to his solitude.

But that wasn't to be.

"Harry?" Ron repeated, pulling aside the bed curtains to find Harry with his eyes closed and his back turned to him. "I know you're awake, Harry. Come on, you'll be late for breakfast and McGonagall's passing out the schedules today."

Harry sighed but did not move. "You go ahead. I'll come down shortly."

"Fine, but hurry up. We should really start recruiting for the Quidditch tryouts on Friday, so we don't get as poor a showing as last year's."

The door clicked and he was alone at last. He closed his eyes, but something Ron had said was disturbing him. He had forgotten something…something about Quidditch, but he couldn't think what it was.

Quidditch tryouts…Ginny was planning to try out for one of the Chaser positions. He shot up with a jolt when he remembered. The broom! He had asked the clerk at Quality Quidditch Supplies to deliver Ginny's broom that very morning!

Cursing himself for forgetting, he jumped out of bed. Without even bothering to change the clothes that he'd been wearing since the day before, he ran out of the room, skipping the stairs two at a time and hurtling through the empty common room. He swung open the Fat Lady's portrait hastily, causing her to screech in indignation.

"NO RUNNING IN THE CORRIDORS!" she shouted after him.

Other portraits echoed her sentiments as he continued to run at top speed. Just as he reached the entrance hall, he heard cackling. Still running, he looked up to see Peeves bobbing around the ceiling, holding something behind his back. Only too late did Harry realize what this meant.

"Wee Potter's in a hurry. If he doesn't slow down, he might break his neck," the poltergeist cackled as he pulled out a huge bucket. Suddenly, water poured down onto the floor in front of the oak doors that led into the Great Hall.

Harry tried to skid to a halt in front of the giant puddle, but instead managed to slide directly into it and fell flat onto his backside. Rising to his feet, soaking wet, he cursed as the poltergeist floated away, cackling uncontrollably as he went.

Entering the Great Hall, Harry found the dining tables full and he was obviously the last to arrive. He hadn't wanted to attract attention, but he certainly had it now.

Striding the length of the hall, he tried to ignore the snickering coming from either side. Fortunately, most of the students seemed more interested in their breakfasts than in him. His wet trainers squeaked on the shiny stone floor, making him wince as the sound echoed through the hall. Worse, he realized that he was leaving behind a trail of wet footprints that would almost certainly earn him a detention from Filch, who at this very moment was glaring at him from across the room.

"What happened to you?" asked Ron, gaping at the state of Harry's robes when he finally reached them.

"Peeves."

Ron gave him an understanding nod.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Hermione said impatiently. "Siccaro!" she called, aiming her wand at Harry.

For a brief moment, it felt as though a warm breeze passed straight through him. And when it was over, every bit of him was entirely dry.

"Honestly," Hermione admonished, "if you had paid a bit more attention in Charms, you might have saved yourself a bit of embarrassment."

"I didn't forget anything, I was just in a hurry," he lied.

"Yeah, right," Hermione replied dismissively with a wave of her hand. "Well, we have more important things to discuss."

Harry looked at her inquisitively.

"Look at this," she said, holding up the front page of the Daily Prophet.

"The post's already come?" Harry asked, startled. He glanced at the paper for only a fraction of a second before looking around frantically for Ginny. Sitting a few seats away, she was conversing with Dean, Seamus, Neville, and some of the fifth-years. With tremendous relief, he noticed that there was no broom in sight.

"What?" Hermione asked, looking thoroughly confused. "Of course the post's come. What's wrong with you, Harry? Didn't you even read the headline?"

"Wha-? Er…no, actually. What is it?" he said distractedly, still looking over at Ginny and the others.

"Harry!" Hermione snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Pay attention. This is very serious!" she exclaimed as she thrust the paper in front of him.

Reluctantly, Harry looked down at the newspaper. There was a huge photograph of Azkaban prison on the front page. One tower had crumbled and smoke dirifted up from it as debris tumbled over a rocky ledge and down to the sea. The headline spelled out in bold type, "Attack at Azkaban."

"He tried to break in last night," explained Hermione.

"Did the Death Eaters escape?" Harry asked, addressing the most immediate and pertinent question in his mind.

"Two," Ron nodded, "before a second wave of Aurors arrived."

"Only two? Then most of them are still in there," Harry rationalized, starting to feel a bit calmer. "We all knew it would happen eventually, it could have been worse."

"It is worse, Harry," said Hermione seriously, her face reflecting the gravity of the situation. "People died last night. Innocent people. Four Aurors were murdered in the battle."

Instantly Harry's eyes lit with concern. Was this what his dream had been about? Had he been witnessing these deaths?

"Tonks? Kingsley?" he asked.

"No," Hermione said quickly, "their names weren't listed among the dead or injured."

"Who escaped?"

"Macnair and Rodolphus Lestrange. As you might guess, Bellatrix was there."

Simply hearing that name brought an acid taste to the back of his throat. He would never forgive Bellatrix Lestrange for what she had done. The very thought of that woman made his hands clench in anger.

It took a moment for Harry to gain control of his anger and frustration. It all felt so unfair. Unfair that he had to be stuck here when something like that was going on. Unfair that he had to sit idly by while more Death Eaters escaped and the murderers of his parents and his godfather remained free to kill and torture others, free to utterly and completely destroy even more families.

"I don't want to hear any more," said Harry decisively.

"But…"

"No, there's nothing we can do about it, is there? So, I don't want to know any more. Let Dumbledore deal with it," he said angrily.

Hermione was just starting to protest when Professor McGonagall came along with the course schedules. He heard groans coming from the fifth-year students as they looked at their schedules and, no doubt, noticed the double Potions class with the Slytherins.

As McGonagall passed him his course schedule, she leaned over and whispered, "Stop by my office before lunch today, Potter."

Harry nodded his assent, wondering what exactly McGonagall wanted to discuss. She didn't look angry so that at least was in his favor.

"Ugh," Ron complained, "look at our schedules. Every class is doubled and half of them are with the Slytherins." He sighed. "Well, at least I don't have to take Potions."

"I do," said Harry miserably. "First class today and it's with all three of the other houses."

Hermione was carefully studying her rather long schedule. "It sounds like there weren't enough students accepted for more than one sixth-year Potions class," she commented. "After all, Professor Snape only accepts students who achieved O's on their O.W.L.s."

"I'll bet you a Galleon that he took all the Slytherins," Ron said with certainty.

Harry hated to admit it but he had to agree with Ron. The Potions class was sure to be chock full of Slytherins. He felt rather grateful that Hermione at least would share the class with him.

They were still discussing their individual course schedules when a commotion at the other end of the Gryffindor table caught their attention. Looking up, Harry saw two large barn owls flying towards them and carrying a rather long and strangely-shaped parcel. The owls started to descend, flying so low that Harry and Ron had to duck to avoid being hit by the parcel as it flew past them.

Harry smiled with satisfaction as the package landed with a thud in the middle of the table in front of Ginny, Dean, Seamus, and Neville. The four of them stood up and looked curiously at the package and then at each other.

"Well…who's it for?" Seamus demanded.

"Any of you expecting something?" asked Ginny.

All three boys shook their heads and Ginny turned questioningly to the fifth-year girls sitting next to her and they shook their heads also.

"Look, there's a note!" said Dean, reaching over to remove a small card that was affixed to the package.

Dean opened the note, read it, and frowned before handing it to Ginny.

With a look of confusion, Ginny took the note from Dean and read it aloud.

"For…," she paused and her cheeks flushed pink, "Ginny Weasley…Gryffindor's newest Chaser."

"It can't be," she spoke softly, staring in wonder at the oddly-shaped package. Gently, as if whatever was inside would bite her if she opened it too quickly, Ginny unwrapped the brown paper packaging.

She let out a small gasp when she finally revealed the broom.

"Merlin, I never dreamed…," she said in awe as she placed both hands tenderly on the broomstick and lifted it up to examine it. "I can't believe it. Do you know what this is? Do you have any idea?" she asked rhetorically.

With a smirk, one of the girls answered sarcastically, "A broomstick?"

"This isn't just a broomstick, it's a Nimbus Chaser!" Ginny beamed with pride and excitement as she examined the broom.

"A Nimbus Chaser!" Ron nearly shouted. "Who on earth would give you a Nimbus Chaser?" he asked loud enough for the entire hall to hear.

"Ron!" Hermione admonished.

"Well, honestly, that's a really expensive broom. It's the newest model!" he said, clearly astonished. "Mum and Dad wouldn't spend that kind of money..."

"I…I don't know who it's from," Ginny said slowly. "It doesn't say on the note. It's strange, someone knew exactly what I wanted. I was admiring it in Diagon Alley just a little while ago when Dean and I were…." She paused and turned and looked at Dean inquisitively. "Wait…Dean, you didn't….did you?" she asked.

"What? Me?" Dean sputtered, nearly choking on his breakfast. "Give you the broom? Er…no, Ginny," he said, shaking his head repeatedly.

Ginny frowned and looked puzzled. "Well then who-?"

She was interrupted by Professor McGonagall, whose attention must have been drawn by all of the activity surrounding the arrival of the broom.

"Miss Weasley, you will follow me, please," said McGonagall, looking sternly at Ginny over her spectacles. "And bring your things with you." Harry noticed that her eyes rested quite specifically on the broom.

Ginny cast an apprehensive look to those around her and, reluctantly, she followed McGonagall out of the Great Hall, broom in hand.

"What do you s'pose that was about?" Ron asked, watching as his sister disappeared out of sight.

"I don't know, but it doesn't look good," Harry said glumly.

Ron spent the rest of breakfast contemplating who had given Ginny the broom. Harry found it quite amusing to make encouraging remarks as Ron's speculations progressed from possible sources like Fred and George to improbable ones like Dumbledore and Ginny's ex, Michael Corner. Thankfully, Ron never even seemed to consider that the broom was from Harry, although Hermione gave Harry somewhat unsettling looks of appraisal.

It was quite obvious that Ron was a bit jealous of his sister's gift. And reminders from Hermione that Ginny had never had a broom of her own before, unlike Ron and his brothers, didn't seem to help. Harry actually started to feel guilty about giving Ginny a broom better than Ron's. But the guilt quickly disappeared when it came time for their first class and Ron announced that he had the morning off because he didn't have to take Potions. It was Harry's turn to be jealous now that Ron didn't have to endure two hours with Snape three days a week.

As always, the thought of his first Potions class filled him with dread.

Sharing that class with Hermione just wasn't the same as sharing it with Ron, who hated Snape with equal passion. Hermione was great to have around if you needed help, but she would never voice her opinions about the class and the professor the way Harry and Ron would when they were together.

Hermione and Harry filtered into the Potions classroom and found two seats at the back of the room. As Ron had predicted, the class was filled with mostly Slytherins, although Crabbe and Goyle were noticeably absent. No doubt they had both received D's (or maybe even T's) on their O.W.L.s and even for Slytherins, Snape probably couldn't justify allowing such poor students into his advanced class.

Of course, Draco Malfoy sat in the same seat he had every year. Harry was pleased to note that Malfoy looked remarkably small and insignificant without his two henchmen to back him up. Pansy Parkinson was sitting beside him now and fawning for his attention with no success. Draco appeared to be sulking, he looked rather miserable actually. Perhaps news of his father's failed escape had not been well received.

"Bad day, Malfoy?" Harry asked coolly as he passed.

Draco looked startled as he glanced up at Harry. "Potter! What are you doing here?" he sneered.

"If you don't know what class this is, perhaps you don't belong in Advanced Potions," Harry replied calmly.

"You know what I meant, Potter," Draco snarled. "You're horrible at Potions. You took remedial lessons last year. Professor Snape would never allow you into this class!"

Hermione appeared at his side. "Every student in this class is entitled to be here, Malfoy. Now if you want to push this further, I won't hesitate to remove points from Slytherin."

Draco scowled but as he looked up, the frown disappeared and was replaced with an evil grin.

Hermione looked perplexed. "I'm serious, Malfoy. If you don't stop, I'll-"

"GRANGER!"

Hermione winced and Harry turned around to see Snape standing directly behind them.

"I believe it is solely at my discretion to take points in my own classroom. Ten points from Gryffindor for your presumption. Now find your seats before I take another ten!"

From there, Potions only seemed to get worse. Hermione was angry with him for starting the whole confrontation with Draco. There were only a handful of non-Slytherins in the class with Dean and Parvati as the only other Gryffindors. And Snape was just as loathsome and unreasonable as ever, treating Harry like an idiot whenever he had the chance. Today it was for the simple mistake of adding three Amaranth leaves instead of two to the healing potion they were making.

It came as quite a relief when the class finally ended. Two hours was painful enough but the thought of two more years of Potions when he didn't have to take it was positively nauseating. Was becoming an Auror really worth two more years of Snape criticizing his every move while Malfoy watched with glee?

When the bell rang, Harry gathered his belongings and made a mad dash for the door, leaving Hermione behind in his haste to leave. He headed straight for Gryffindor Tower, anticipating a quick lie down before lunch. Just as he reached the seventh floor, he remembered McGonagall's request at breakfast to meet him in her office. Harry groaned and returned the way he came, trudging back down six flights of stairs.

Upon reaching her office, he heard voices inside and decided to wait in the corridor. A soft breeze from a nearby window blew the door slightly ajar. He was about to pull it closed again when he saw a flash of red hair inside and heard a familiar voice - Ginny was inside and she was speaking.

"Professor, please, the Quidditch tryouts are this week and I need to practice."

"Miss Weasley, we already discussed this earlier this morning. Considering that we don't know where the broom came from, it would not be prudent to trust the source. Especially after Hermione Granger's incident in Diagon Alley, we have to be very cautious. I have already contacted your parents and they fully agree with me."

"But, Professor-"

"No, Miss Weasley, and that is my final answer! You may have the broom back in a few weeks if it passes the tests. And don't come to badger me every day about this. Now, be off with you, I have other matters to attend to."

He heard a small grunt of disapproval and the door swung open. Ginny was scowling when she left the office and didn't even notice Harry before she bumped into him.

"Oh…Harry! I didn't see you," she said with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"McGonagall asked me to meet her. Are you all right, Ginny?"

"Fine," she said stiffly, glaring at the office door. "It's just that McGonagall took my broom this morning. She thinks whoever sent it might have cursed it or something." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Anyway, she won't let me have it back until they've tested it thoroughly."

"She did the same to me when Sirius sent the Firebolt. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get it back soon," said Harry sympathetically.

"Yeah, well, we'll see," Ginny replied, unconvinced.

Harry looked at her nervously. He wanted to reassure her, but how could he without revealing that he sent the broom?

"Harry Potter?" McGonagall called from inside

"She must have heard you," Ginny said. "You'd better go in. Good luck!" she called as she started to walk away.

He watched Ginny disappear round the corner, sighed, and opened the door. Professor McGonagall was busy with some paperwork so he took one of the seats in front of her and waited a few moments for her to finish writing.

"Ah, Potter, I suppose you can probably guess why I called you here."

Harry shook his head.

"No? Well, I thought it would be obvious." She gave him a rare smile. "I want you to be Captain of the Gryffindor team this year!"

He had so convinced himself that she would choose someone else for Captain that it actually came as quite a surprise.

"What about Katie Bell?" he asked.

"Miss Bell is an extraordinary Chaser, but you both have the same number of years on the team and you've had more successes on the Quidditch pitch. I know you work hard, Potter, and you've proven that you can be a great leader. Did you know that more students achieved O's in their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.s last year than I've ever seen in all of my years at Hogwarts? And I'm quite certain that had nothing to do with Dolores Umbridge's teaching. I'm quite confident that you have the leadership skills required to make a wonderful Captain, Potter. Don't you want the position?"

"Of course," he said quickly, "I just…," he paused, "I dunno, I guess I've come to expect disappointment."

McGonagall stared fixedly at him through her square spectacles and her eyes slowly softened. "I'm sorry, Potter. I know you've had a rough time of it in the last few years."

Or my whole life, Harry thought.

"I confess that I also had hopes that this position might boost your spirits and prove a distraction from your troubles," she said delicately.

He rather doubted that anything could distract him to that extent. But still it was something he had wanted, something to which he could look forward. "Thank you, Professor," Harry finally answered. "I'll do my best."

"Good, because that's exactly what I expect of you. And please do something about those Beaters this year, Potter, and your Keeper needs more consistency. I'm not quite ready to give up that Cup yet," said McGonagall, gesturing to the bookcase where the Quidditch Cup stood prominently.

McGonagall resumed her writing, indicating that the meeting was over. But she called out to him as he stood up. "Oh, Potter, I needn't remind you that this is a privilege. If your grades start to drop, I won't hesitate to replace you. Understand?"

"Yes, Professor."

He walked to the door and had his hand on the knob, but then turned around and faced McGonagall again.

"Professor?"

McGonagall looked up, peering inquisitively at him over her spectacles.

"About Ginny's broom-"

"Not you too, Potter. Listen, I've already told Miss Weasley that she will get the broom back when we are satisfied with its safety."

"Wait, Professor, you don't understand-"

"Of course I understand. Ginny Weasley is your friend and you want your team to do well and you think this broom will help. Wood was exactly the same when we were testing your broom. I want a winning team as much as you, Potter, but I won't jeopardize one of my students over a silly broomstick." She looked sternly at him before returning to the paperwork in front of her.

"But I know who gave it to her," Harry said desperately.

The quill in McGonagall's hand became still and she looked up in surprise.

"What? Well, who is it then?" she demanded.

Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"Er…it's from …from a friend who doesn't want her to know where it came from."

McGonagall's eyes narrowed as she appraised him. "That answer is far too vague. I need a name, Potter."

"Fine," Harry conceded. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a sigh of defeat.

"I bought Ginny the broom," he confessed.

"Oh...I see," McGonagall said slowly, her eyes widening. A soft smile rose to her lips as she looked back down at her desk and picked up her quill. "Very well then, Potter, Miss Weasley will have her broom back by the end of the day. And don't worry, I won't tell her what you've told me. I'm sure she'd much rather hear it from you when the time is right. You may go now."

McGonagall's reaction to his confession troubled Harry. She seemed to suspect he'd bought the broom for some other reason than simple friendship and generosity. And why did she presume he would ever reveal that he had purchased the broom? As far as he was concerned, Ginny would never find out if he could help it. He shuddered at the very thought if Ron ever knew. Leaving the office, he began to wonder whether Ginny's gift had been such a bright idea after all.

After lunch and Herbology, it was time for their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson with Professor Ramsey. Harry, Ron, and Hermione found that they were the last to arrive in a classroom full of only Gryffindors. All of the other students were already seated and conversing in fervent whispers. The girls were by far the loudest, giggling occasionally while snatches of their words drifted in the air, notably "so handsome," "absolutely gorgeous," and "do you think he's married?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance and rolled their eyes simultaneously. Hermione made a motion to join the girls, but Ron nudged her towards a desk near the rest of the boys. Dean and Seamus looked up from their own conversation when they approached.

"Hey, have you heard yet about the new professor?" asked Dean.

"Heard what?" asked Harry, intrigued.

"I sat behind Theodore Nott in Potions and overheard him talking to Zabini about Ramsey. It sounds like Ramsey's some kind of treasure hunter. He travels all over and goes to really dangerous places where no one else will go. Nott said his father paid a fortune for a magical amulet that Ramsey found in a cursed temple somewhere in the Aegean."

"Wicked!" said Ron in awe. "So he's a curse-breaker then? My brother Bill's a curse-breaker for Gringott's in Egypt. Maybe he knows Ramsey."

"Nah, I doubt it. It sounds like Ramsey tries to keep a low profile and moves around a lot. And he isn't a curse-breaker," said Dean, "they called him something else - a...mavantrix or something like that. I've never heard of it."

Hermione's eyes lit up suddenly. "Do you mean a magiventrus?" she asked.

"Yeah, that's it."

Hermione squealed with delight, surprising them all. Harry looked to Ron for an explanation but Ron shrugged and mouthed the word "mental" while his eyes darted to Hermione.

"A magiventrus here at Hogwarts!" said Hermione, looking as happy as if she had just discovered a lost chapter of Hogwarts, A History. "They're so rare. I don't believe it. And he's our teacher. Oh, it's going to be so exciting!"

"What are you on about?" Ron asked, looking at Hermione as if she had two heads.

"He's a magiventrus, Ron! Don't you know what that means?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

Harry and Ron responded with blank stares.

"Honestly," Hermione said with disgust, "Have none of you paid even the slightest attention in History of Magic?"

Harry glanced at the other boys who all wore humbled expressions but did not reply.

"Oh, fine then," said Hermione, exasperated, "but you really ought to know this by now. A magiventrus is someone who studies the magical spells and objects of ancient or lost civilizations. Most of our magical knowledge comes from their discoveries. They're something like a curse-breaker or a Muggle archaeologist, except they're looking for magical artifacts and texts."

Harry and Ron edged slightly closer, listening with greater interest.

Hermione continued, "The profession is really rare because no one teaches it anymore and most ancient magical objects have either already been unearthed or are surrounded by so many curses and enchantments that they're impossible to reach."

"Difficult perhaps, but nothing's impossible," a voice called behind them.

Hermione flushed a brilliant pink as she spun around and saw Professor Ramsey standing nearby.

"Miss Granger, isn't it?" Ramsey continued, smiling warmly at her. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Hermione nodded meekly.

"Hello, everyone," Ramsey said, addressing the entire class, "I hope you'll pardon my late arrival for our first class. At least it seems that we can skip over an introduction since so many of you seem to know quite a bit more about me already than I would have expected." His eyes darted to Hermione, who sank lower into her chair. "Knowing the way word travels around Hogwarts, I'm sure all of you will learn much more about me than even I know very shortly."

The class responded with soft laughter. Harry glanced at Hermione, who was looking down at her desk with her hand to her forehead. She was still clearly quite embarrassed.

"First," Ramsey continued, "I would like to congratulate you all for your extraordinary accomplishments on the O.W.L.s. I am told that every student in this class passed the Defense exam with flying colors, achieving the highest average for one subject in the school's history. Naturally, I will be expecting quite a bit from such an extraordinary class.

"In times such as these, Defense Against the Dark Arts is not just vital to your magical education but to your survival. Up to this point, you have learned the basics about some of the creatures and spells you might encounter. But knowledge alone won't save you if you are unfortunate enough to encounter the Dark Lord or his followers. By the end of the year, it is my hope that you will all be able to defend yourselves if a real situation arises."

Harry found that his attitude towards the new professor was quickly shifting. Perhaps Ramsey wasn't just another Lockhart, maybe he really did know his subject. Everything Ramsey was saying echoed Harry's thoughts on the matter perfectly. Suddenly, he felt a great deal more respect for Ramsey than he had the night before.

Ramsey continued, "I would like to begin this year by practicing some of the more basic spells you would need against unfriendly wizards - the Disarming Charm and the Shield Charm. I presume you're all familiar with Expelliarmus and Protego, yes?"

The class nodded their affirmations.

"Wonderful! I'd like you each to find a partner to practice with and take turns using each of the spells, so that I can see your progress."

The class paired off and took pillows to cushion their falls from the Disarming Charm. Harry and Ron teamed up, leaving Hermione to pair up with Neville. It became clear very quickly that everyone in the class was able to effectively produce each of the Charms, of course this was only natural after all of their practice last year in the D.A.. Few people were being disarmed because they were all using the Shield Charm so effectively. It didn't take long for some of the students to start showing signs of boredom.

"The way he was talking, I thought we might actually learn something," Ron complained to Harry. "But this is pointless. I mean, we've all known these spells for ages. I could do Expelliarmus with my eyes closed."

"Is that so, Mr. Weasley?" Naturally, Professor Ramsey had approached them at that very moment. "Perhaps you would care to demonstrate for the class, then?" Ramsey said very casually, as though he was trying to cover up the quiet smirk hiding barely visible in his smile.

"All right," Ron replied nervously. He walked to the front of the classroom and motioned for Harry to join him.

As Harry started to walk up to the front, Ramsey stopped him.

"No, Mr. Weasley will demonstrate with me," Ramsey said.

Ron's eyes opened wide and he looked even more nervous as Ramsey stood across from him with his wand drawn.

"All right, Mr. Weasley, let's see your Expelliarmus. Go ahead, eyes closed."

Ron shot another nervous glance at Harry before doing as he was ordered.

"Expelli-"

The second he closed his eyes, Ron was hit flat in the face with one of the pillows. The entire class reacted with raucous laughter.

Ron opened his eyes and Professor Ramsey lowered his wand.

"Lesson one:" Ramsey said, addressing the class, "Never close your eyes in a duel."

Ramsey flicked his wand and another pillow flew through the air directly towards Lavender Brown, who had turned around and was whispering something to Parvati. The pillow hit Lavender in the back of the head, initiating another round of laughter.

"Lesson two: Never turn your back on your opponent."

"That's not fair," Lavender protested. "I wasn't even trying."

Ignoring her, Ramsey continued, "And most importantly, Lesson Three: Never assume that your opponent will play fairly.

"You see, knowing and being able to use these spells is fairly simple, but add the pressures of a real-life confrontation and the situation is entirely different. Even simple spells become quite difficult when there are no rules, when it is only you and your opponent and your very life depends on your actions in that one moment. You have to be on alert, to expect anything at any time. Your senses have to be tuned to your opponent and not distracted by your surroundings.

"For our next exercise, I would like you all to split up into two teams, five on each since we have ten students. This exercise should add stress and distractions to the situation you've just faced because there will now be up to five wands pointed at you at any one time. This will be something like a game - the first team to recover all of the wands of the other team wins. Success will require not only your concentration but teamwork as well. If you're faced with unfriendly wizards, it is more likely that you will have to deal with several at once rather than one-on-one."

The lesson proved to be quite difficult for many of the students. Initially, Harry's team won too quickly because he already had so much experience using those spells in stressful situations. It didn't take long for Ramsey to decide to have Harry act alone as a third team in order to provide everyone with a challenge.

Everyone seemed quite pleased at their progress by the end of the class. The game format was exhilarating and tiring at the same time. By the end, they were all exhausted but thrilled. Many remarked that it was the most fun they'd ever had in a class (though Harry disagreed because of his loyalty to Lupin).

"Great work, everyone!" Ramsey said at the end of class. "Some of you still need a bit more practice, but you're progressing very well. In the next class, we'll go a step further and add some new challenges. For homework, I'd like you each to think carefully about what could happen if you were ever faced with a dark wizard in reality and create a list of ten different scenarios and the defensive maneuvers you could use in each case. And each defensive maneuver should be different, so I don't want to see Protego listed for every scenario. Now I imagine you're all starving after your hard work, so you're all free to go down to dinner."

The class filed out with Harry, Ron, and Hermione trailing at the end of the queue. Before they could leave, Professor Ramsey asked Harry to stay behind and Harry urged Ron and Hermione to go ahead to the Great Hall.

Once they were alone, Ramsey shut the door and beckoned Harry to come to his desk.

"Harry, I'd like to begin your Occlumency lessons this week. I was thinking every Tuesday and Thursday evening at eight o'clock if that's all right with you. I understand that you met with Snape under the pretense of remedial Potions lessons, but I don't think anyone would believe that you need extra lessons in Defense Against the Dark Arts, so I don't want to do the lessons here or in my office. Professor Dumbledore mentioned that you led a defense group last year in a secret room on the seventh floor. That seems like an ideal location considering its proximity to Gryffindor. So I'll meet you there tomorrow at eight, all right?"

"Yes, Professor. You know how to get into the Room of Requirement?"

"No, is there a trick to it? Well then come by my office at eight and we'll go up together."

Harry nodded in agreement and left to join Ron and Hermione.

At dinner, the entire school was buzzing about the new professor. Harry was just grateful that the attention wasn't focused on him for once. He was somewhat surprised that Ron and Hermione still hadn't pestered him about the Sorting Hat's song, but knew better than to mention anything.

When they were studying in the Gryffindor Common Room an hour later, Harry suddenly grew suspicious again when Ron and Hermione started whispering conspiratorially when they thought he wasn't looking. But perhaps he was just fooling himself, he was too paranoid that everyone was always talking about him.

"Harry?" Ron asked.

Here it comes, Harry thought. "Hmm?" he replied, not looking up from his book.

"Hermione and I were thinking about visiting Hagrid tomorrow, can you come?"

"Yes!" he replied immediately, feeling so relieved that Ron hadn't asked the other question. "Wait, I have to be somewhere at eight tomorrow night." He lowered his voice. "Occlumency lesson," he whispered to them. "Can we go after dinner?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

"Sure," Hermione nodded, "that should give us enough time."

Harry smiled, feeling much happier than he had before.

"Hey, Harry, congratulations!" said Katie Bell, who had just stopped by their table.

"Thanks," said Harry, "but I was sure you were going to be Captain."

Katie smiled and shook her head. "Nah, I knew McGonagall would give you the job. Even if she had offered me the position, I wasn't going to accept it. You deserve it."

"I could still use your help, Katie," Harry said, "especially with the tryouts."

"I'll be around if you need me, Potter. Just promise me you won't become a taskmaster like Wood or Angelina."

"I hope not," Harry laughed.

After Katie left, Harry was reminded of just how intensely he had missed Quidditch. He hadn't had the chance to fly since Umbridge had confiscated his broom the previous year after the first match. He asked Ron to come out and practice with him, but Ron turned him down after Hermione reminded him that they had a prefect meeting that evening. So Harry was quite alone when he marched off to the Quidditch pitch with broom in hand, and he was perfectly happy to be that way.

The desire to fly was so strong that he took off before he'd even reached the pitch. The sun was setting and it was a pleasantly warm evening with only a slight breeze - perfect weather for flying. He flew around the castle in lazy circles, enjoying the view before he decided to give his broom a real workout. As he flew high over the lake, he went into a straight dive pulling up just in time so that he was mere inches away from the water's surface. Climbing higher, he put on a burst of speed and accelerated faster and faster towards the Quidditch pitch.

As he came closer, something caught his eye high up in the sky over the pitch. It was too large to be a bird, but too small to be a thestral. He landed in the middle of the pitch and dismounted, staring up at the object. Suddenly, the thing was falling, faster than gravity it seemed. Then he heard a scream and the thing in the sky became a blur of red hurtling towards him at an alarming rate. His heart was pounding in his chest, it wasn't some creature - it was Ginny. He reached for his wand, only to find that he had left it behind in Gryffindor Tower. He mounted his broom hoping to catch her midfall, but he knew he was already too late, she was falling too quickly. Just as he was sure he was about to see her small body shatter as it hit the ground, she swerved up and let out a shout of triumph before circling around the pitch and landing gracefully beside him. Ginny had just performed a perfect Wronski Feint, better than any he had ever seen, including Krum's performance at the Quidditch World Cup.

"Did you see that?" she asked, beaming from ear to ear. "I've never been able to do anything like that before. It was amazing!"

Harry gaped at her. His heart was still struggling to return to a normal pace. "I…I guess you got your broom back then," he stammered finally.

"Yeah, McGonagall returned it this afternoon. I've just been testing it out. It's fantastic! Flies like a dream. I don't think the tryouts will be a problem, do you?"

"Tryouts? After that display? You don't need to try out. I'm the Captain and, as far as I'm concerned, you're definitely on the team."

"Aw, that's really sweet of you, Harry," Ginny said. She hugged him and pecked him on the cheek, leaving a tingling sensation where her lips had touched. "But I'll try out anyway. It's only fair to the other prospects."

"Well, I'd better head back now. Lots of homework already," she said casually as she walked away. After only a few steps, she turned around and called back, "Oh...by the way, Harry," she smirked, "thanks for the broom. I owe you." She winked at him and continued walking back towards the castle, her figure silhouetted by the brilliant red of the setting sun. At the edge of the pitch, she yelled back, "Don't worry, I won't tell Ron!"

Ginny had dumbfounded Harry twice in the span of a few minutes. He watched her retreating figure and remained there still and silent until long after she had disappeared. Daylight had faded into night by the time he finally returned to the castle.