Harry Potter and the Loss of Innocence

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Lessons

How could this happen to me?

I made my mistakes,

I've got no where to run...

So I try to hold onto a time,

When nothing mattered.

~Simple Plan: Untitled

"You're late!" Lon Bryant bellowed at Harry as he ran into the Entrance Hall.

Harry skidded to a halt and desperately tried to get his breath back. "I'm sorry, Mr. Bryant," Harry panted. "I was talking to a friend about another friend and lost track of time."

"Is this other friend dying?" Lon asked shortly. Harry stared at him in surprise.

"N-no," he answered.

"Then don't be late!" he yelled impatiently. "Don't cool down! We're going for a run." Harry shook his head and followed the man out of the school and onto the grounds. They ran to the Quidditch pitch and then ran three more laps. Lon stopped near the goal posts and Harry put his hands on top of his head.

They stood, Harry trying desperately to catch his breath and Lon just barely breathing deeply. Lon was a medium sized man, well built, without an ounce of extra fat on his body. Harry could tell that Lon was in better shape than he was and Lon seemed to be ready for an attack at any moment.

"I don't want you to be late again," Lon said sharply. "I don't want to teach a lazy good for nothing teenager!" Harry bowed his head in humiliation and promised himself that he wouldn't be late again. This man was giving up his time and energy to train him, the least he should do for this man was be on time. "You will be running around the lake twice a week before this month is up. You will be running sprints on the other days. Until the end of the month, you'll be running longer and longer distances until you're able to run around the lake."

"Okay," Harry said, dreading the time he'd spend running. "I can run a fair distance already."

"I'll be teaching you hand-to-hand combat, both unarmed and with short knives," Lon told him in his sharp voice, ignoring the comment.

"Why? I won't be fighting hand-to-hand," Harry interrupted.

"Don't interrupt me," Lon scolded Harry and hit him across the head. Harry stumbled sideways and shook his head to clear it. "You'll learn because I say so, and also because it'll help you." Harry nodded, rubbing the back of his sore head. "I'll also teach you how to throw knives and how to use the sword. Now," he said, raising his voice as he started loping across the pitch, "let's go to where we're going to practice."

Harry followed him to a clearing between the Forbidden Forest and the Lake. Harry was surprised to realize that it was the same spot were Sirius, Hermione, and he had almost been kissed by the Dementors his third year. Lon slowly waved his wand at the ground, clearing a circle about twenty feet wide of snow.

"Now, what are we doing, Mr. Bryant?" Harry asked curiously.

"First, don't call me Mr. anything," Lon answered grumpily. "Call me Bryant. Second, don't ask questions unless I ask you to. Understand?" Harry nodded. "Good. Now what do you know about fighting, Muggle style?"

"Nothing," Harry admitted. "Nothing worthwhile at least."

Bryant shook his head in frustration. He walked to the edge nearest the forest and came back with two whittled sticks. Bryant tossed one at Harry and he caught it by reflex. Harry looked at the stick with uncertainty, but raised it immediately as Bryant swung his at Harry's head.

Harry managed to defend against that one, but Bryant swept his feet from under him with the next swing. Harry landed hard and knew he'd have a bruised back. Bryant waited impatiently as Harry stood and then attacked again, this time feinting for Harry's left shoulder, but quickly changing to smack Harry's right thigh.

Harry gritted his teeth as a sharp pain escalated up from his thigh. They continued sparing, Harry barely managing to defend against less than half the strokes. When Bryant finally let his stick drop Harry sank gratefully down to his knees.

"Get up," Bryant barked. "Run to the Quidditch pitch, touch the far goal post and then run up to the castle. I'll be waiting for you there." Harry muttered a curse under his breath, but stood and started the long jog to the Quidditch pitch.

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"What's the matter, luv?" Ginny asked almost thirty minutes later as Harry limped into the Great Hall.

"Nothing, I'm just sore," he answered in reply to her concerned look. He smiled at her and took the seat next to her. "I just got the crap beaten out of me by Bryant and I now have a nice collection of fine bruises."

"I'm sorry," she whispered in his ear. "You want to do something at the end of the week?"

Harry shook his head regretfully. "I'd love to, but I was planning to have the D.A. meeting that night and I don't think it's a wise idea to do things without at least one chaperone." Ginny crossed her arms sullenly, but Harry only laughed. "I'm just joking. I do have a surprise for you, but it's not ready yet," he told her to make up for the bad joke. "When it's done, I'll take you out."

Ginny's face lit up with a grin and she looked at him expectantly. "What is it?"

"I can't tell you yet, Gin," he said, shaking his head in amusement; Ginny loved surprises and gifts. "You'll have to wait until it's done." Ginny gave him a slight glare but that was it. "So how's Hermione with me?"

"She's alright," Ginny answered, grabbing some food for her plate. "She believes our side of the story over Ron's, which is how it should be seeing as we're telling the truth." Ginny shrugged. "She's mad though. She said something about you brushing their concern off and all that, but I don't particularly understand it."

"Neither did I," Harry said, buttering a piece of toast. "We talked this morning before my lesson and she tried to explain it to me."

Ginny nodded, "Yeah, that's what she said. I forgot you had a lesson in the morning."

"So did I," Harry answered after swallowing the bite of toast he had just taken. "At least not until last night, after I said goodnight to you. I realized I didn't know where I was having lessons, so I went and talked to Thia about it and she told me."

"Oh, okay," she replied with a slight smile. "How's Ron?"

"I don't know, I haven't seen him since last night," Harry said with a shrug. "We had another fight about you."

"I wish he'd just back off," Ginny said furiously. "He's just annoying."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "The only problem is that Dean, Seamus, and Neville heard it all and heard what happened in an incomplete way." Ginny's cheeks burned red and Harry gave her a half smile. "And I left them with Ron afterwards because I didn't want to hit him."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "So they think what?"

"I have no idea," Harry said with a shrug. "They weren't up before my lesson and I have only seen you since the end of it. I'll try and talk to them... If I don't get really embarrassed."

"You don't have to," Ginny pleaded with him. "Just let it die down. Ron will get over it eventually and if you make a big deal about it then it'll become a huge problem."

"Yeah," Harry told her very quietly. "But I don't want them to think the wrong thing about you," he whispered into her ear. "And if Ron's saying what I think he is, they might."

Ginny looked at him thoughtfully. "I didn't think about that," she told him honestly. "Don't bring it up though," she begged him. "If I know guys as well as I do, I know that they'll bring it up. Just wait for them." Harry nodded. "Promise me that you will," she asked him, pleading with her eyes.

"I promise, Gin," he said, kissing her fingertips. "I need to go get my stuff." The bell rang and Harry cursed his luck. "How mad will Snape be if I don't have my book?" he asked her curiously.

"I wouldn't put it past him to give you a month's worth of detention," she told him with a smile. "If it was me, though, I'd say I'd get away with it." Harry chuckled with her.

"I don't know," Harry said with a shrug. "He did save my life. Who could have seen that coming?" They had left the Great Hall and Ginny stopped to finish talking with him.

"Just take what he gives you," she advised him. "And don't explode at him, as you said, he did save your life. But don't let him walk all over you either."

Harry smiled at her, "And how am I supposed to keep him from strutting if I can't explode?" Ginny hit his shoulder and Harry gasped with pain.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to hit you so hard," she told him worriedly.

"No, you just hit a bruise," he assured her. "You'd better hurry to class." Ginny nodded and left, turning back to wave before she turned a corner. Harry hurried down the stairs to the dungeon, hoping against hope that Snape would be nice to him.

Harry sat in the back, in his normal spot, and was there long before Ron. When Ron entered and saw Harry in their normal spot, he changed direction and took Neville's normal spot. Hermione gave Ron a glare and then sat next to Lavender and Parvati. Neville came in and saw Ron in his spot. He looked around the room and took the only empty seat in the room, the one next to Harry.

"Hey," Neville mumbled before taking out his book. Harry smiled his hello and looked around the dungeon trying to find Snape. "Where's your stuff?"

"I forgot it in the room," Harry told him with a shrug. "Will you return what's left of me to Ginny once Snape's through with me?" Harry asked with a smile. Neville gave a nervous laugh and glanced at Ron. "So, um, what's up with, um..."

"Quiet!" Professor Snape snapped from the doorway. "Today we start a new curriculum." Everyone glanced at one another; he seemed to be in an odd mood. "As you all know by now, thanks to Skeeter, I have been spying on the Dark Lord. Which means that I am now also free of those restraints. We will be studying the potions that the Dark Lord has had made for his personal use; ones that, until recently, were known to only a few healers and Aurors."

He swept to the front of the room and picked up a large pile of packets. He gave a packet to everyone, glaring at Harry when he saw that the boy didn't have his book. Harry looked down at the parchment and was surprised to see that it was covered with Professor Snape's handwriting and notes.

"This is your new text book for this class," Snape said once he had passed the last one out. Hermione raised her hand shakily and nervously. "Yes, Miss Granger," Snape called on her angrily.

"This is your handwriting," she said softly.

"It is," he said with a curt nod. "The reason for that, as any fool could guess, is that I created several of those on my own, helped create others, or picked through the rest. What the Dark Lord does not know is that I have worked on antidotes for most of the poisons he had ordered to be created. If I made them on my own, I didn't give the Dark Lord the poison until I had also created the antidote." He stopped and stared at the stunned class. He took a book and slammed it on his desktop. Everyone jumped, except far Harry, who was only intrigued, not surprised, by what Snape had said.

"Surely some of you had doubts as to where my loyalties lie," he said tersely. "I have been cleared of all charges because of the need for a spy among the Dark Lord's Death Eaters. Now, we will be learning the first poison. It was created by another Death Eater and slowly chews the skin away."

"Why don't you just use acid?" Dean asked without raising his hand.

"A hand, Mr. Thomas, raise your hand," Snape said shortly. "The difference between this potion and acid is that it only attacks the skin layer. It leaves the layers under the skin alone, exposing it to the elements or whatever torture the attacker decides to use after that," Snape explained. "It can be stored in any container that isn't leather, because leather is the dried skin of an animal and will be destroyed by the poison."

"That's what that was," Harry mumbled under his breath. He was thinking about Malfoy's initiation.

"What is that, Mr. Potter?" Snape snapped viciously at Harry.

"Nothing, Professor Snape," Harry gritted out.

"Where's your text book?" Snape asked vindictively.

"Right here, Professor," Harry said, holding up the packet Snape had just handed out. "I appreciate these, Professor. They should be interesting study material." Snape stared at Harry, slightly taken aback, but it only lasted for a few seconds before Snape's lips curled in a way Harry had learnt to dread.

"That's ten points for your lip, Mr. Potter," Snape said, confirming Harry's fears. "And two night's detention." Harry gritted his teeth and remembered what Ginny had said to him. He wouldn't take the bait.

The class was passed interpreting Snape's handwriting and taking notes on the properties of the poison. Harry watched the clock with growing dread. At least he knew what to expect with Snape, but with Druce Keene he had no idea. The bell rang and Harry said goodbye to Neville and headed into the Great Hall.

"Good morning, Harry," Druce Keene said from the Ravenclaw table. Harry walked over to the Ravenclaw table, but stood awkwardly across from him. "Sit, Harry, sit. I'm not going to bite your head off for sitting at the wrong table."

Harry sat and looked at the Spell Master. He was dressed in robes that were obviously old, but they were well taken care of. He had longer brown hair that was pulled back in a rather loose ponytail and bright, intelligent blue eyes. Harry decided that this man would be a good teacher, unlike Bryant and Snape.

"Now, I looked over the test that Thia gave you at the start of the year," he started in a slow measured voice. "She told me that you've mastered the spells on there that you didn't know at the beginning of the year." Harry nodded; Thia had told him that already. "I'm going to spend the rest of the class testing where your strengths are and where your weaknesses are. First," he said, pulling out a piece of parchment, "I want you to write down what you consider your strongest, weakest, most interesting, least interesting classes and where most of your knowledge is."

Harry thought about that for a while. Well, Defence Against the Dark Arts was his strongest class, most interesting, and was what he knew best. Charms was his least well-known class. History was his most boring class. "Can I put down Divination?"

"Yes," he answered with a slight smile. Harry wrote down that Divination was his worst class. "Very good, now any questions before we begin?"

"What do I call you, sir?" Harry asked, a little embarrassed.

"Call me Master Keene," he answered. "It's my work title, after all. But outside of class just call me Keene. I never liked Druce."

"Didn't Thia call you that?" Harry asked, now a little surprised.

"I call her Synthia to her face and she calls me Druce to mine," he explained. "When she's not around I call her Thia, but I'm not sure if she calls me Druce or Keene when I'm not around because I'm not around." Harry laughed and nodded. He spent the next hour or so proving to Master Keene that he knew thirty or forty different spells. He would cast the spell and then Keene would write something down on a piece of parchment. When the bell rang, Keene looked down at the parchment and then folded it neatly.

"Very good," Keene said brightly. "I'll see you tomorrow. Goodbye, Harry." Harry walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down in the same seat he had that morning.

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

The first thing Harry did when he entered the Dark Arts classroom was head to the Wall. He put up pictures of Aurors that had died in the Battle of Hogsmeade and of a magical family that had been slaughtered. A few others joined him, but, thankfully, not that many.

The class went by in its normal blur of dueling, right up until the end. Thia had just told Harry and Neville (the top duellers) to bow to each other when Neville stood up and put his wand away.

"Professor, what do you think about Snape?" he asked instead. The class waited for her answer.

"I think he is a true Slytherin and an extremely brave or stupid man, depending on how you look at it," Thia answered evenly.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked loudly.

"You are either extremely brave to spy on Voldemort or extremely stupid," Harry replied rolling his eyes. "I believe Professor Snape is second on Voldemort's 'to kill' list," he added, looking at Thia, who nodded. Ron glared at Harry, but Harry just ignored him.

"Who's first and why is Snape second?" Hannah Abbot asked curiously. Harry and Thia exchanged a look, but Harry just shrugged. He didn't care about who knew anymore; at least to some extent.

"I am," Harry said looking down at his shoes. "Because of the reply I sent and the, um, wording I used. As for the reason why Professor Snape is second--" Harry stopped and thought about it for a second. "Well, Voldemort doesn't suffer traitors and kills them the second he gets his hands on them. And for good reason, or well, I mean, yeah," Harry stammered, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks. "What I meant is that Voldemort doesn't want his secrets spilled. What is the first thing Professor Snape teaches us after he's released from that role? The most secret of Voldemort's poisons. It undermines Voldemort's system and makes others think twice about their oaths and how permanent they are."

His entire class looked at Harry with surprise. Not only had he just admitted to being at the top of Voldemort's list, but he had defended Snape. Thia was looking at Harry with cold pride, sorrow written in her eyes. She didn't think any teenager should be able to answer those questions, and particularly the first one in the way he had. It just wasn't right.

"Professor Snape," Thia said, getting the attention of the class once more, "has sacrificed much while spying for our side. He deserves your respect and your trust."

"He sure hasn't acted that way," Dean said bitterly.

Harry laughed at that and Dean stared at him as if he had horns. "Sorry, I," Harry stopped and shook his head. "Sorry. As for the way Snape acts, well, he had to. I mean, no Death Eater would like Gryffindors, and least of all the famous Harry Potter," he added bitterly. "He had to act the way the Death Eaters would expect, otherwise they would see right through the disguise."

"But he gave you two detentions for forgetting your book today," Lavender argued logically.

"Did he really?" Thia asked outraged.

"No, he gave my two detentions for my lip," Harry corrected. "And I'm a special case," he added with a shrug. Ron and Hermione smiled, kind of understanding what he meant. It seemed that Ron didn't even know what he was doing though.

"It doesn't matter," Thia said hotly. "He shouldn't have given you two detentions."

"Just give them to him, Thia," Harry said with a shrug. "Two detentions with Professor Snape have to be better than weeks with Umbridge." Thia shrugged in resignation and turned to the class.

"Any other questions on this subject?"

"Do you know why he became a Death Eater and why he switched?" Hermione asked inquiringly. A quick shadow passed over Thia's face, but it was soon gone.

"Even if I did, Miss Granger," she told the girl sternly, "I would not tell you. That is rather personal information you ask and it's not my place to tell you." Hermione nodded, but Harry could tell she wasn't happy with the answer. The bell rang, freeing the students. "Harry, could you please stay?" Harry nodded and waited for the class to empty out.

"You could have warned me about Bryant," Harry accused her, but all Thia did was smile.

"He bruise you up nice and good?" she asked impishly.

"Yes, particularly because I was late," Harry said rubbing his sore arms. He hurt all over and was glad he hadn't had to duel with Neville. "So what did you find out?"

"Nothing," she said. "But," she continued quickly, "I knew how important this was to you, so I wrote to Remus and asked him to come. He's waiting in his old classroom. You should head there now, if you have the journal."

"Aren't you coming?" Harry asked curiously.

Thia shook her head. "No, there are a few things that I need to do before supper." Harry couldn't help but think that she was lying.

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

"Hello, Harry," Remus said brightly. "Thia wrote me and said that you had something to ask me."

"Hey, Remus," Harry said, sitting in the chair next to Remus. He went on to explain what he wanted. Remus sat, staring into the blazing fire, and thought about it.

"I think I could find the notes we made for the Map," he said after a long pause. "I don't remember all the spells we used, but they'd be written in there. Do you want to do the spell work or do you want me to do it?" he asked Harry.

"Could I? I mean, would I be able to do the spells and understand the notes?" he clarified.

"I don't see why not," Remus answered reassuringly. "I'm sure you don't want an old codger like me reading the letter already in there." Harry blushed, but nodded. "I'll send it in the mail when I find it. If it's where I think it is, I'll have it to you by tomorrow."

"Thanks, Remus," Harry said with a grateful smile. "I was wondering if you... could..." Harry paused and felt his cheeks burn redder. He hated asking for help, for anything, but this in particular. "Could you help me with Ron?" he asked in one quick breath.

"What was that?" Remus asked, holding his hand up to his ear and feigning deafness. "I'm old, so you need to speak up."

"Just help me, Remus," Harry said angrily. Remus thought for a moment, weighing his options.

"I heard his yelling long before I arrived," he answered slowly. "I woke up Tonks and we headed downstairs. This is something the two of you need to figure out."

"I just can't think of a way to talk with him where he won't accuse me or try to hit me or me him," Harry admitted bashfully.

"I was in a position a lot like that with Thia and an unnamed boyfriend," Remus spoke quietly. "I didn't mean to blow up at them or doubt them, but I did."

"How'd you get over it?" Harry asked curiously.

"I didn't," Remus said with a shrug. Harry's building hope smashed into a billion pieces. "But I didn't like the guy to start with, so it's different. Ron likes you, he just doesn't trust you. There is a difference, though it's very faint."

Harry shook his head in confusion. "I just don't get that. I don't understand any of this. Both Ginny and I are sorry it happened, we didn't plan it, and it's not going to happen again."

"But he's thinking that if it happened once, it'll happen again," Remus argued logically. "You'll have to try to talk with him, and don't forget to keep your temper," Remus added. "You won't help the situation if you keep yelling at him. It's hard to yell at someone who's talking to you calmly. That's the only reason Sirius survived the time I walked in on them."

"Am I going to have to worry about brothers all my life?" Harry asked after a moment of horrified thought.

"Yes. Well, you won't after you marry the girl," Remus said with a smile. Harry felt his cheeks burn as he thought about the implications. "I've got to be going. See you around, Harry."

"Thanks for everything," Harry said, waving as Remus left the room. He stayed and thought about everything Remus had said. Maybe he'd go and try to talk to Ron once more.