Learning to Sing

*~*And we skip the light fandango! Turn cartwheels across the floor! I was feeling kind of seasick, but the crowd called out for more! *~*

~Chapter Three~

"Wilson, Carlene," Professor McGonagall shouted out from behind the Sorting Hat. Hermione stared over at the red head in a mixture of hope and dread. What if Carlene was sorted into Gryffindor? Would she be able to handle her attitude for an entire year? But, there were some kind aspects to the American that Hermione couldn't help but notice. For example, the way she had stopped the fight on the train. And what of the other houses? She could be sorted into Slytherin and become another one of those people who seemed to live to make the Gryffindors miserable. Time was ticking slowly but surely by as the Professor slipped the hat onto Carlene's head.

Hermione saw that the girl's knuckles were sweating and white as they gripped the sides of the stool, just as hers had when she was in that position her first year.

"Well hello, Carlene," the Sorting Hat was whispering into the girl's ear. "Now, I have to find out where to put you. I see lots of talent, oh yes you have talent, and a knack for charms as well. You're cunning, and you hold a secret..."

"Just get on with it, okay," Carlene whispered annoyingly in her head, cutting the Hat off.

"Hmm... well, you are certainly determined but have a degree of control about you. Great wits and seemingly great passion for anything you put your mind to. Excellent studying abilities and strengths," The Hat continued as though it hadn't heard what she had said. "Well, it's got to be RAVENCLAW!" Shouting out the last word so that all in the Great Hall could hear it. There was applause at the Ravenclaw table as she ripped the Hat off as quickly as she could and made her way to her new house.

Hermione let out a long held in sigh and turned to Harry next to her. "Well, now that that's over with, I should say that I am ready to eat." A few minutes later, after beginning of the year announcements from Dumbledore, food filled the plates and everyone dug in.

When the feast was over and Prefects started to lead the first years to their house dormitories, Carlene ran up next to Hermione and said, "I know you have to take these kids on, but I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay with you the last few weeks of summer, and for putting up with me when I was a jerk. And I also wanted to say that although we're in different houses, I hope I still see you around."

"Oh, we will," Hermione replied with a sweet smile. "Congratulations about making it into Ravenclaw. I'm sure you'll do wonderful this year."

"Yeah, you too," Carlene said, then followed her Prefect to her house rooms, her robes billowing up behind her.

Hermione watched as she left then continued to lead the new first years up the stairs and towards the Gryffindor common room. "Julius Romanus," Hermione muttered the password to the Fat Lady just before the painting swung open to reveal the cozy common room. Directing the new students, Hermione informed them where their dormitories were and then told them to go onto bed.

As everyone filed up the stairs, Hermione went into a corner and fell into a large velvet chair, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Harry and Ron soon made it to her and sat on seats next to her. "What's eating you, Hermione?" Ron asked, his eye-swollen purple from the fight.

"Nothing, I guess I'm just tired, that's all," Hermione replied, turning to face Harry for a moment. "I'm glad to be back though."

"Yeah, who isn't?" Harry muttered, sinking back into his chair comfortably. Removing his glasses, he rubbed an eye with his fist and yawned, leaning his head back against the chair, his black hair falling messily about eyes. "Man, for a minute there, I thought Carlene might be sorted into Gryffindor. Wouldn't that have been interesting?"

Perking up, Hermione looked into Harry's eyes and asked, "What do you mean, you thought? You weren't seriously hoping that she'd be sorted into our house, did you?"

Waving his hand nonchalantly at her face, he muttered, "I don't know. I mean, why should I care? We'll still see her anyway. And why are you so defensive all of a sudden?"

Biting her lower lip, Hermione fell back and blew her hair out of her eyes. "I guess I don't know. Maybe I was just worried that she would go back to being mean and curt again. Well, maybe it's just because I'm too tired to think straight. I think I'll go to bed. We've got to have sleep for our first day of school tomorrow." With that, she pulled herself out of the seat and began to drag herself up the stairs to the dormitories.

"G'night, Hermione," Ron called after her as he moved next to Harry into Hermione's vacant chair.

"You two better be getting on to bed, too," she mumbled in response as she disappeared up the stairs, running a hand through her frizzled hair. "I don't want to be responsible for keeping you awake during classes tomorrow."

Laughing quietly, Harry said, "She never wavers, does she Ron? I mean, even at eleven o'clock at night on the first day back she is still your older brother."

"No, she's better than Percy," Ron muttered, looking at the stairs after her. "Percy would be deducting House Points because he thought I was loitering around do nothing but give him grief. No, Hermione's a lot more laid back than him."

"I guess so," Harry stated, standing up. "I think I'm going to take her advice and get some sleep. It's too late to think about anything."

"I hear you," Ron replied, coming up behind him. And with those last words they slipped up to their dorms and readied themselves for bed, falling asleep once their heads hit their pillows.

* * *

"So, Hermione," Dean asked peaking over her shoulder as he walked up to Gryffindor table in the morning, "what's our first class today?"

With a sigh, she passed him a schedule of that year's classes and said, "Potions with Slytherin." With that she went back to her toast, sleepy bags under her eyes.

"Ugh, the first class of the year, and we have to spend it with Snape," Dean grumbled, plopping into the seat next to her. "Maybe I'll call in sick this morning."

"Dean, you couldn't do that. You can't miss the first classes of the year, and when Madam Pomfrey finds out your not really sick, you'll receive a detention for sure," Hermione argued, scooping a few more eggs onto her plate.

With a shrug, Dean silently ate his breakfast just as Ron and Harry bustled in. As he passed by Hermione, Ron reached down and snatched her schedule, stopping to sit across from her. "Potions?" Ron murmured. "Oh, why me?"

"It doesn't always have to be about you, Ron," Harry muttered with a laugh as he got a schedule of his own. "Well, isn't the rumor saying that Snape's going to be back this year, or was that just my imagination?"

Nodding, his mouth full of toast, Dean said, "Yep," and went back to his food.

"Oh well, I guess all good things must end," Harry shrugged, reaching for a plate of bacon. "You would think he might be gone another year."

"Why did he leave anyway?" Dean asked suddenly, putting down his silverware to stare over at Harry and Ron.

There was a quick silence as Ron looked questionably at Harry whose bright green eyes were shimmering in thought. "He- um- had some personal business to take care of last year. Don't you remember, Dean?" Harry muttered averting is eyes. He knew that he wasn't to tell anyone that Snape was a spy for the Ministry and had been gone their entire fifth year to work on the situation with Voldemort, but he often at times found it difficult to keep such an important piece of news quiet.

"What do you think his personal business was?" Dean asked suspiciously, leaning in closer over the table.

"What ever it was, it was personal and therefore none of our business," Hermione said strictly, checking that the books in her bag matched the right courses of the morning. "I'm going to head down to the dungeons, I need to talk to the Professor about some of the summer homework assignments."

"Okay, Hermione," Harry acknowledged as she grabbed her satchel and left the Great Hall. As she was passing through the doors, she brushed into Carlene who was headed inside.

"Hi, Hermione," Carlene greeted with a large smile. Hermione only grunted a hello before she headed on. "Okay," Carlene muttered, shaking it off and making her way to the Ravenclaw table. As she passed Gryffindor, she waved at Harry and Ron, a bright smile across her face.

"I just remembered, Ron, that Snape wasn't at the Feast last night," Harry said, turning back to his food, his black hair falling into his eyes. "Maybe he isn't back yet." He waited for a response, and when he hadn't received one, he looked at his best friend. "Ron?" he asked as he saw a misty look in the boy's eyes as they stared out toward Ravenclaw table. Waving a hand in front of Ron's face, Harry said, "Oi, Ron! Snap out of it."

"What?" Ron asked turning his eyes to Harry, a slight pink rising in his cheeks.

Eyeing him suspiciously, Harry said, "You don't have a thing for her, do you?" When Ron averted his eyes and said nothing, Harry muttered, "Oh my, you do!"

"What are you talking about?" he replied, spinning his fork absently through his eggs. "I just zoned out for a second that's all."

"You did more than 'zone out', Ron," Harry said. "Why are you so taken by her? She's just a girl." He suddenly felt a pang of guilt when he thought about his crush on Cho.

"Have you even looked at her, Harry?" Ron inquired, gesturing toward the Ravenclaw table where at that moment, Carlene was in conversation with a group of girls, all of whom seemed to be giggling about something. Resting his head on his hand and gazing after her, Ron muttered quietly, "She's like a red-headed Fleur. . ."

Bursting into laughter, Harry reached down and picked up his satchel, slinging it over his shoulder. Reaching out, he grabbed Ron by the robes and pulled him to a standing position. "C'mon, Ron. We need to get to class." Snapping out of his reverie, Ron snatched up his bag and followed Harry out of the Great Hall and down to the dungeons.

* * *

It was twenty minutes after classes had started, and the Potions class with Gryffindor and Slytherin still lacked their professor. Harry was seated between Ron and Hermione in the back of the classroom as usual, and Neville, Dean, and Seamus sat in front of them, throwing small wads of wet parchment that stuck to the back of Malfoy's robes without his knowing. Hermione was obviously upset that she had not had the opportunity to speak to Snape about that summer's homework assignment, and now had her nose buried in a book, "Joint Curses and Their Potency".

Ron and Harry sat quietly, interrupting the silence every now and then by laughing at Malfoy. The classroom was chilly, the walls dripping silently with small streams of water, and many students had bundled their robes about them, trying to keep warm.

"Good morning, class," someone called from the doorway, making several students jump in their seats in surprise. A woman strode into the room, dressed in silvery grey robes that accented the bright grey in her eyes. She was young, and couldn't have been older than thirty. Her long, golden hair was pulled into a low ponytail at the back of her head, tied with a blood red ribbon. Her figure was very thin and willowy, but she stood only a head taller than Professor Flitwick the Charms teacher. With straight nose and sharp, jutting chin, she also had small, slightly pointed ears, giving the impression that she was some sort of life-size pixie, without the wings of course. "I am sorry I'm late, but Professor Dumbledore insisted on speaking with me. I am Professor Emily Ambrosia. Of course, you are to call me Professor Ambrosia, and I am your new Potions Mistress."

The class sat there, gaping at their new teacher. Where was Professor Snape? Was he still away, unable to return to Hogwarts for another year? "Now, since it is simply our first day back, and my first class here, I would like to start this class off with just some 'get to know each other' time," Professor Ambrosia beamed, a huge smile lighting up on her face. "Now, to start off, I guess I will tell you all a little bit about myself," she started, leaning casually against her podium. "I'm from northern Scotland, Inverness to be exact. I am twenty-seven years old, and this is my first job as a professor." After this she paused and gazed about the room, looking at each student one by one. "Would you like to ask me anything?" she asked of the class, her large eyes glimmering.

There was a moment of silence, and then Parvati raised her hand. "Why are you teaching Potions?" The class laughed quietly before Ambrosia smiled and held up her hand for silence.

"I understand where you are coming from," she said. "I remember Potions being the most dreaded subject of the day when I was at Hogwarts. But, for some reason, my seventh year I took a sudden liking to it when we got a new Potions Master by the name of Severus Snape." The class went silent, their mouths hanging open in disbelief. "He taught me that there was more to Potions than just throwing ingredients into the cauldron. It was about precision, wits, and realizing that in fact Potions involved time and patience. I fell in love with the subject and excelled at it my last year. So, I decided to come back to Hogwarts and teach it."

"Did you really like Professor Snape?" Dean asked cautiously.

Laughing, Ambrosia said, "Actually, I found him to be somewhat strict, but it truly helped out in the long run."

"What house were you in?" Parvati let out suddenly, curiosity etched all across her face.

"Hufflepuff," she stated matter-of-factly. Parvati nodded, and the class continued, taking a strange liking to the professor as they went along.

* * *

"Where do you think Snape is?" Harry asked suspiciously to Ron and Hermione as they left the classroom with the rest of Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"Who cares!" Ron exclaimed, adjusting his bag over his shoulder. "We've got an awesome Potions Mistress this year, much better than Professor Dryson from last year. He was so dull and boring, but Professor Ambrosia is actually fun and interesting. I never would have guessed that she had been gone for four years, studying Sphinxes in the Sahara for the Ministry. She's brilliant, and so much cooler than Snape."

Running his hands through his hair, Harry said, "Ron, please focus. Is it possible that Snape is still," he gulped and remembered his promise, "gone?"

Shrugging, Ron said, "Sure it's possible. What do we have next?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione answered matter-of-factly, leading them up the stairs. "Does anyone know who our new teacher is?"

Shaking his head, Ron readjusted his satchel and replied, "Nope. I didn't see anyone new at the Feast last night now that I think of it. That's very strange, isn't it?"

"Most definitely," Harry said in response as they came to the classroom door. "Well, here we are. After you, Hermione." The girl smiled as she proceeded inside and to one of the back tables. Ron and Harry followed and sat side beside next to her. As more Gryffindors filed into the room, Harry noticed that among them were several Ravenclaws.

Sinking in his chair, Ron pulled out a book and pretended to read. After a moment, Ron asked in a whisper, "Psst! Harry, is she here yet?"

Looking down at his best friend, the green-eyed boy replied, "Whom? Oh, Carlene? Yeah, she came in just a moment ago. Crikey, Ron, you need to forget about it. She's only here for a year, there's no point in it."

"Shh!" he let out loudly, splaying Harry with saliva. "She might hear you."

Wiping his face, Harry turned away and looked to the front of the classroom where at that moment the professor strode in and sat behind his desk, his face obscured by a pile of books. Nudging Hermione with his elbow, Harry asked, "Did you see who the teacher was?"

Hermione shook her head, completely absorbed in her book. Shrugging it off, Harry glanced around the classroom to see Carlene completely surrounded by a group of boys, Dean and Seamus included. Shaking his head, he pulled out his DAD book and absently skimmed through its pages coming to a stop on a lesson entitled, "Deterring Dragons." He looked at the picture, which happened to be an Oriental-like dragon rearing back on its hind legs, spitting fire at a young wizard whose wand was withdrawn, a purple light streaming from it's tip, and he yawned. They were only through one class of the day, and the day already seemed long. Removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, Harry listened as the new professor finally spoke, although he was still hidden behind the books.

"Good morning, class," was all he said before Harry perked up and looked at Ron who was only staring at Carlene out of the corner of his eye. "Welcome to your sixth year of Defense Against the Dark Arts," he continued his voice deep and smooth.

"Ron," Harry whispered, prying him in the ribs with his elbow, "is it just me or does that voice sound a lot like-" But he stopped when the professor stood up from behind his desk, the class going completely silent. Hesitating, Harry slipped on his glasses so that the blur could take form. He took them off quickly after catching his first glimpse. Shaking his head in disbelief, he cleaned them with the edge of his robes and put them back on. There was no denying it. Professor Severus Snape stood tall and smiling in front of the class, his black hair as greasy as ever hanging strewn about his eyes.

"I am glad to be back at Hogwarts, and I am happy to tell you that I am your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Snape continued, his grin growing wider, stretching from ear to ear. Harry wasn't even sure he had seen Snape smile so broadly in his life, a very strange feeling ebbing up in his stomach. Come to think of it, he had never seen Snape so menacing and happy in all his years at Hogwarts, except when perhaps he and Ron had flown Mr. Weasley's car into the Whomping Willow, and he was almost positive that Harry would finally be asked to leave Hogwarts. "Professor Dumbledore, upon not being able to find a replacement for last year's teacher, promptly asked me if I would like to teach this class..."

As Snape continued with his usual start of the year lecture, Harry looked in utter disbelief at Ron, who whispered, "This is going to be a long year!"