Harry Potter and the Sect of the Serpent

CHAPTER TEN -- Feeling Defensive

The sixth year Defense class was unusually large. It was much larger, in fact, than any of their other N.E.W.T. level classes, and this was plainly because every single sixth year member of the DA had earned an outstanding on his or her O.W.L. Much to Harry's amusement, neither Malfoy nor any of his gang was in attendance. To his disappointment, however, neither was Gwyn. She had said that Defense Against the Dark Arts was not a required class at her school, and that she'd never taken it before.

Demetria Lindell was quite different from anything anyone had expected when they thought of their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Seamus and Dean had confessed they thought the young professor was pretty and therefore concluded that she would probably be a pushover. Harry thought she looked tough and that she might start teaching them something useful. Ron thought she couldn't possibly be as boring as Umbridge. They were all wrong.

They entered the room quietly, the excited chatter of the sixth years dying into respectful silence as the young woman surveyed them over the tops of her glasses from where she stood at the front of the room. Calmly she set a leather dossier on the desk and opened it.

"This is N.E.W.T. level Defense Against the Dark Arts for sixth years. If you received anything less than Exceeds Expectations on your Defense O.W.L. you should not be here." She paused, as if expecting someone to get up and leave, but when no one did, she turned to the blackboard and began writing in a small delicate script. "My name is Professor Lindell. I was, until recently, a Scriptionist and an Unspeakable for the Ministry of Magic." Harry glanced at Ron, whose eyes were wide and impressed; he wondered what on earth a Scriptionist was. Professor Lindell was drawing a complex set of diagrams on the blackboard. She glanced down at her notes, nodded, and let go of the chalk, which continued the drawing of its own accord.

"I have been made aware of your rather spotty history in Defense," she said, dusting her hands together as she turned back to face them, "and I must say, I am utterly astonished that, with the lack of proper rudimentary education you've been given in the subject, so many of you were able to pass the test." She gingerly set aside the first sheet of parchment from her dossier and took up the second.

"Miss Abbott?" she read, peering over the top of her paper. Hannah raised her hand. "Would you please tell me some of the similarities between the shield charm and the stunning charm?" Hannah stared at the Professor, her eyes wide.

"I..." she began uncertainly. Professor Lindell continued to stare at her with a hard level gaze. Harry glanced over at Hermione and was surprised to see her eyebrows knitted and her hand by her side. "They're both charms?" Hannah blurted out desperately. Professor Lindell raised one eyebrow ever so slightly, but said nothing. She made a small mark on her paper with her quill. Ernie patted Hannah's hand and looked daggers at Professor Lindell.

"Mr. Goldstein?" Anthony's face went a shade whiter as he put up his hand hesitantly. "Do you know the Reductor Curse?" Anthony relaxed visibly as he nodded. Harry had taught them all that curse in DA meetings the previous year. "Can you please tell us," Professor Lindell continued, "why that particular curse does not require a specific wand movement to accompany it?" Anthony blanched again. Ron turned to stare open mouthed at Harry, who merely shrugged.

"I'll take that as a no," Professor Lindell said, making another tick on her paper. She continued down her list asking each of them impossibly hard questions not about performing a spell, or what it did, but about why it worked and how. Neville practically fainted when she asked him to explain the fundamental differences between dark magic and regular magic, and Parvati Patil looked like she might cry when Professor Lindell told her that dark detectors like Foe Glasses and Sneakoscopes were not based on Divination principles. None of them, with the exception of Hermione, seemed to have any idea how to answer her questions, and Hermione only barely satisfied the Professor, earning herself an "Mmm..." for her trouble.

"Mr. Potter..." Harry's stomach clenched. He raised his hand, but Professor Lindell did not look up from her paper. "Ah yes. Mr. Potter. I have heard rumors that you are at the top of your class in this subject." Harry put his hand down.

"Yes Professor," he said quietly, wondering desperately what inane thing she might ask him and running over in his mind all the spells he knew. It was almost how he felt when preparing to battle a Death Eater -- but Death Eaters had never asked him to explain how he could do the spells he could do.

"I have also heard that you can conjure a Patronus, is that correct?" Harry nodded.

"Yes Professor. Several of us can." Hermione gave him a small smile.

"Perhaps you would be so kind then, as to tell the class what other types of charms the Patronus Charm derives from." Harry's mouth went dry, but then he remembered what Professor Flitwick had told him in Charms.

"Illusions?" he asked cautiously. Professor Lindell looked up at last to give him an appraising stare.

"Anything else?" she asked dryly. Harry shrugged, at a loss. Professor Lindell pressed her lips together tightly. "I will give you partial credit for at least knowing that," she said, as she ticked off his name on her list.

"Well," she said after sufficiently cowing the class, "it seems I certainly have my work cut out for me this year, if I am to give you any semblance of a chance of passing your N.E.W.T.s. We will begin at the beginning with the root of all spells. Please copy the notes from the blackboard and use them to supplement your reading of chapters one through five for the next class."

As the students began to work, they also began shooting furtively disbelieving looks at one another. Was this woman serious? Her notes were incredibly complex, going on and on about the origins of magic and the intricacies of spells, and the blackboard kept erasing itself when Harry was only half way through copying them, to start on the next bit. He hoped Hermione was faster than he was and that she would let him copy hers. Aside from the notes, he was also disgruntled with the reading assignment they'd been given. He had flipped through his text over the summer, but had immediately put it aside thinking he'd save it to read the next time he had a case of insomnia. Reading five chapters in two days was going to be no easy task.

When the lesson was finally over, everyone seemed in quite a hurry to get out of the room. Harry stuffed the pages of notes into his satchel and bolted for the door.

"Mr. Potter," Professor Lindell said, "I would like a word with you, if I may." Harry stopped, his hand already on the door. Hermione and Ron both gave him sympathetic looks as they passed. Harry turned back and stood next to the professor's desk, where she was writing furiously. She did not look up until every other student had left the room.

"Professor Dumbledore tells me you organized an illegal Defense group last year," she said bluntly. Harry nodded slowly. There was no point in denying it if Dumbledore had told her about the DA. Was he going to be punished for something he'd done before she even arrived?

"He expressed his desire for this group to continue as a proper club, and asked me if I would be willing to be your Staff Advisor." Shocked, Harry found himself picturing her standing in the Room of Requirement forcing them to copy down even more elaborate notes, and he frowned slightly. "It is obvious from your expression that you don't want me interfering with your group, and frankly," she continued, "I have absolutely no desire whatsoever to do so. I have much better things to do with my free time than play nanny to a group of students who want to hurl curses at one another." Harry scowled and started to protest, but thought better of it when Professor Lindell looked up at him. She stared at him with a somewhat sour expression on her face, and he noticed that her eyes were a steely grey.

"So," she said, laying her hands neatly across the top of her desk, "what exactly are we going to do about this?" Harry felt decidedly wrong-footed and he didn't know how to answer her. She picked up her quill and held it poised over her parchment. "Come now, you must have some ideas," she said tartly.

"Well, Professor," Harry replied nervously, "we did get on just fine last year without any, er... Staff Advisor..." He wondered if that was really the right thing to say. He didn't like her to think that they didn't want her, but at the same time, they didn't.

"That was exactly my thought, Mr. Potter, but Professor Dumbledore was adamant that your group become a legal club, and by Hogwarts rules, all clubs must have a Staff Advisor." She leaned forward, a glint of amusement popping unexpectedly into her grey eyes. "You don't want me there, and I don't want to be there, so why don't you just bring me a copy of your meeting schedule and a roster of everyone in the club, and we shall make that the extent of my involvement as your sponsor. Does that sound reasonable to you?" Harry nodded. It sounded more than reasonable; it sounded too good to be true. Afraid she might change her mind, he quickly turned to go.

"Mr. Potter, I also heard from the headmaster that you have been studying Occlumency with Professor Snape." Harry turned back towards her, hoping somewhat belatedly that his intense dislike of Snape would not show in his face. Professor Lindell raised her eyebrow slightly once again. "He has asked me to take over these lessons, citing personal reasons for Professor Snape's inability to continue them with you." She stared at him questioningly, obviously waiting for an explanation.

"Professor Snape and I, we... we don't really get along," Harry said finally. Professor Lindell's other eyebrow went up in an expression that might have been surprise, or even approval.

"Very well, Mr. Potter. It seems we have something in common other than an interest in Defense. I will see you on Friday morning for your first Occlumency lesson." She took up her quill and went back to her notes. Harry took this as a dismissal and bolted from the room. Hermione and Ron were waiting for him at the end of the corridor.

"What did she want?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"She's the new Staff Advisor for the DA and she's going to be teaching me Occlumency," Harry said in one breath.

Ron groaned sympathetically. "That's rotten luck!" Harry shook his head.

"No, I don't think so. She doesn't want anything to do with the DA, so she's going to let us run it just the way we were before." Hermione looked surprised.

"But that's wonderful, Harry! We can pick up right where we left off and not worry about anyone telling us the spells are too difficult or too advanced or any of that nonsense." Harry nodded.

"And when she asked me why Snape wasn't teaching my Occlumency lessons any more, she let on that she doesn't like him any more than I do!"

"I wonder why?" Hermione said thoughtfully. Ron snorted disdainfully.

"Because he's a great slimy git, that's why!" Hermione rolled her eyes, but did not disagree. They rounded the corner and made for the entrance to the Great Hall, but before they could even pass through the doors, Harry was accosted by most of his Defense lesson.

"Oh Harry it was awful!" Parvati cried dramatically. "When are we starting up the DA again? We'll never learn anything from that hag!" Seamus pushed to the front of the group.

"She's hardly a hag," he said with a smirk, "but how are we supposed to learn any practical defense if she's just going to have us copying down diagrams all term?"

"We have to begin at once!" Ernie Macmillan threw in pompously. "Even if we have to go underground with it again!"

"Yeah Harry," Neville piped up from where he was being squashed between Terry Boot and Michael Corner, "with Voldemort back, we need all the practice we can get!" Several people shuddered at the name, and most turned to stare, somewhat shocked at Neville's boldness. Harry held up his hands.

"It's OK!" he said quickly. "We don't have to keep it a secret any more!"

"As if it still would be after all this," Hermione grumbled under her breath as she looked around at the curious stares they were eliciting from other students.

"Professor Dumbledore is making us an official club, and Professor Lindell is going to be our Staff Advisor. But-" Harry added quickly, as several people began to protest, "she's not going to come to meetings. We just have to have a teacher listed in order to be a proper club." A murmur of general assent passed through the group.

"So when are we starting, then?" Susan Bones asked, her face a mask of anxiety. It was Hermione who answered her.

"Have you all still got your coins?" Most people nodded, although Neville had a slightly panicked look about him. "Fine. Once Harry sets a date, we'll let you know that way, same as before."

"What about new members?" Justin Finch-Fletchly asked. "My brother's just started as a first year, but I'm sure he'd want to join." Harry frowned uncertainly. If they opened the club up to more people, he didn't know if he could handle it. They already had more than twenty students. Hermione quickly shook her head.

"We'll accept new members, but only fourth years and up. The magic we're doing is too difficult for anyone younger." Harry was grateful that she could take charge of those kinds of details. Finally, the group broke up and everyone scattered to their respective tables to bolt down some lunch before their next lesson.

Just as Harry was filling his plate with corned beef sandwiches and crisps, Gwyn dropped onto the bench right next to him.

"What was that all about," she asked with a grin, "the Harry Potter fan club?" Ron laughed and Harry gave them both a dirty look.

"No!" he said hotly. "Who told you that?" Gwyn started at his reaction.

"No one! It was just a joke. Geez, lighten up, Harry." Harry sighed.

"We were just talking about the first meeting of our Defense club," Hermione said, trying to change the subject. "Everyone wanted to know when we'll be starting back up." Gwyn glanced around the room at the various members still making their way to their house tables.

"Wow, pretty popular club," she said, sounding impressed.

"Well of course it is!" Ron replied haughtily. "Everyone knows that You-Know-Who is back, and we want to be prepared." Gwyn gave him a rather incredulous look.

"Prepared for what? The way you talk, it's like you expect an all out war! I supposed you're afraid of being drafted?" Ron wrinkled his nose at her. She glanced sideways at Harry. "Come on, even if there is a war, you don't all really think that you're going to be the ones who have to fight it?" Harry felt the familiar knot of guilt and fear forming in his stomach. Ron, Hermione, and the others? Maybe not. But him...

Hermione gazed levelly at Gwyn, her expression serious and her eyes cold. "Why shouldn't we think so? Ron and I have been helping Harry fight since our first year. The Death Eaters don't care how old you are; they'll kill anyone who gets in their way. And we tend to get in their way with alarming regularity." Ron nodded sanctimoniously and Gwyn gave a little laugh. Harry frowned.

"You still don't believe that this is real, do you?" he asked angrily. Gwyn gave him an apologetic look, but didn't answer. "Well, that's great. I'll just go and tell Cedric's parents that he's not really dead then, shall I?" Hermione and Ron dropped their gazes to their plates, but Gwyn just stared.

"Who..."

"It doesn't matter," Harry cut her off. Feeling very disgruntled, he grabbed his sandwich and took and overly large bite. No one said anything.

Awkwardly, Gwyn stood and made to go. "I guess I'll see you in class then," she said quietly before walking back to the Ravenclaw table.

"Silly bint!" Ron spat. Harry didn't know whether to agree with him or not. He took another huge bite of his sandwich to avoid having to say anything and nearly choked.

"Well, you can't really blame her, Ron," Hermione chided. "She's just reacting to what she hears at home, where Harry and V-Voldemort are a bit of a joke." Harry made a face.

"Thanks a lot," he grumbled. Hermione gave him a withering look, but decided to change the subject.

"Why didn't Professor Lindell want to come to our DA meetings?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "I kind of got the impression that she feels a bit above it all, didn't you?" Ron nodded enthusiastically.

"High and mighty if you ask me," he agreed, taking another sandwich.

"Well maybe we should try to change her mind," Hermione continued. "She could probably teach us a lot. I mean, she's a Scriptionist, and an Occlumens, and it's obvious she knows loads of fascinating stuff about magic and the dark arts."

"It is?" Ron asked skeptically. Hermione rounded on him.

"Well of course! You were taking the notes too. I thought her theories on the origins of magic were particularly interesting." Ron stared at her in amazement.

"You mean you understood all that rubbish?" Hermione nodded slowly.

"Well, most of it anyway," she admitted, blushing slightly.

"I meant to ask," Harry said quickly, before Hermione had a chance to explain what she found so fascinating, "what's a Scriptionist?"

"A person who writes spells," Hermione said simply. Harry frowned.

"What do you mean? She just writes them down?"

Ron shook his head. "A Scriptinoist makes up new spells. From scratch. They work in the Department of Mysteries. Dad's told me it's really really hard to do." Hermione nodded.

"It's one of the most difficult things one can do with magic, creating a whole new spell from the beginning. I wonder why she left the Ministry." She looked up and suddenly Harry noticed that the Great Hall was clearing rather rapidly. "Look at the time!" Hermione exclaimed. "We're going to be late!"

CHAPTER ELEVEN -- Hearts of Stone

As Harry, Ron, and Hermione ran down the soggy hill towards Hagrid's hut in the muggy afternoon sun, they saw a group of people walking back up the hill towards them, the largest of whom was instantly recognizable.

"There yeh are!" Hagrid bellowed as the class scurried up the hill in his wake. "Meh three best pupils late on th' first day! Best be sharp today or I might have ter dock yeh some points!" He gave Harry a very theatrical wink as they turned to join him and the rest of their classmates walking back up to the castle.

"Hagrid!" Hermione said, falling into stride next to the huge gamekeeper, and having to jog slightly to keep up, "where are we going?"

"Field trip!" Hagrid announced jovially. "We're goin' ter catch us some creatures for yeh to look after this term." Hermione's eyes widened with anxiety, but she did not reply.

They reentered the castle and began immediately traveling upwards. Harry wondered what kinds of creatures they could catch in the castle. At first he thought that they were headed for the astronomy tower, but when they made a left instead of a right at the Tapestry of Woraug, a wizard who had turned a number of dragons into fire-breathing toads, Harry found himself losing his bearings completely.

"This place needs escalators!" Gwyn panted next to him as they continued climbing ever higher. Harry chose not to reply, half because he was also out of breath, and half because he wasn't sure if he was speaking to Gwyn yet. Gwyn caught Ron's slightly confused expression and added, "Muggle invention! Moving stairs!" He gave her a disgusted look.

"I know what an excalater is!" he retorted. "Besides, Hogworts has got moving stairs!" He motioned to a staircase several flights below them that was in the process of changing its position. Harry doubted very much whether Ron really had a firm grasp on the concept of an escalator.

When they finally reached the top of the last staircase, Harry found that they were in a part of the castle he had never seen before. The passageway they entered looked less like a hall in a castle, and more like someone's dusty old attic. The walls were pitched and sloped inwards, as if they were standing directly under the eaves of the roof. The passageway was also rather dark and the air was thick with dust and cobwebs.

"Geroff! Geroff!" Ron shouted suddenly, doing a panicked little dance and frantically beating himself about the head and shoulders as he walked through a large spider's web. Obligingly, Hermione began dusting the strands of silk from his back and reassuring him that there were no spiders on him. Behind them, someone sniggered.

Abruptly, the passageway ended in a triangularly shaped wall with a similarly triangular doorway set into it. Hagrid pulled a massive ring of keys from one of his many pockets and fitted one of them easily into the door. Harry stared at it skeptically. The doorway was hardly big enough for Hermione to go through without stooping; he couldn't imagine how Hagrid planned to get through it. To his amazement, however, either the doorway grew or Hagrid shrank, because he passed through it quite easily, as did the rest of the class. Even Ron didn't have to stoop, although Harry could have sworn the door frame was only inches above his own head when he passed through.

One by one they emerged blinking into the bright sunlight. Harry squinted around trying to get his bearings. He realized suddenly that they were indeed very high up, as he could see the grounds, the forest, and the lake spread out around them like a glittering map. The air at this height was crisp and clean, but the landscape below was dulled by the hazy fuzz of the humid air. The place they were standing was made of ancient rocks and harbored foul smelling puddles of brackish water and grime.

"The roof? Some field trip." Malfoy's voice was thick with sarcasm as he lifted the hem of his robe out of a decidedly disgusting-looking puddle. "First the forest and now this. Tell me, when did good old fashioned classrooms become a thing of the past?" Hagrid looked around at them, his cheerful expression falling as he heard Malfoy's taunts.

"Shut it, Malfoy," Ron growled under his breath. Malfoy sneered.

"Or what, Weasels? You'll do another little dance for us?"

"Or I'll make you wish you'd brought your broom..." Ron said taking a menacing step towards Malfoy and towards the edge of the roof. Hermione grabbed his arm, a slightly panicked look on her face.

"Ron don't!" she said shrilly, her eyes wide. Hagrid cleared his throat, obviously ready for the lesson to begin.

"All righ' you lot," he said, a broad smile reappearing through his bushy beard. "Who can tell me what this is?" He pointed down at a small grey lump perched on the edge of the pitched roof nearby. It had the vaguest semblance of a head, two protrusions that could be called wings, and a large grotesque mouth, but it looked to Harry to be made out of weather beaten stone.

"It's a Gargoyle," Hermione said, her voice quavering slightly. Harry noticed that she was still clinging rather forcefully to Ron's arm and that Ron was beginning to blush.

"Right yeh are, Hermione!" Hagrid beamed. Harry wondered why they were going to study sculptures in Care of Magical Creatures, that is, until Hagrid reached out and nudged the lump with his foot. Instantly, the wings batted angrily and the large mouth turned to snap at Hagrid's boot. Harry's eyes widened. Once the creature seemed to perceive that the annoyance had passed however, it went back to its original position and froze there as if it had never moved.

"It's so cute!" Parvati squealed in obvious surprise. Harry stared at the lump and tried to see exactly how it might be considered cute. Hagrid chuckled.

"So what I want yeh ter do is ter catch a few of 'em, and we'll take 'em back down ter the hut ter study." Hagrid smiled at them. No one moved.

"Er, Hagrid," Harry volunteered, "how exactly are we meant to catch them? With spells?"

"Nah. I don't reckon spells'll work on 'em. Thick skins, Harry. Thick as granite. Yeh'll 'ave ter use these." Hagrid walked around the corner and reappeared with a hand full of what looked like large butterfly nets. The class stared at them skeptically. "And be careful of 'em!" Hagrid added. "Some of 'em have got bloody great claws or fangs or what have yeh. Don't want nobody ter get bit. Well, get a move on!" Hagrid handed the nets to Phillipe Fontaine to distribute. "I reckon yeh'll have ter spread out a bit ter find em. Half a dozen er so ought ter be enough."

Obediently, though still perplexed, the class began to spread out in groups of twos and threes with a net between them. Malfoy took a net quite disdainfully and complained loudly to his partner about not being able to use any spells. Neville and Gwyn paired up and headed for a likely looking parapet nearby. Harry took a net and began making his way up to a slightly higher level with Ron and Hermione following behind.

"Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down," Hermione whispered as she climbed. Once up on the higher level, she moved as far away from the edge as possible and clung to the corner of a wall. Harry looked around, but he couldn't tell the difference between the bits of rock that actually were rock, and the bits that were Gargoyles. Ron picked up a loose pebble and chucked it over the edge, then stood quite close looking down to see where it landed.

"RON!" Hermione gasped. "Don't DO that!" He gave her an odd look, a wicked grin creeping across his face that reminded Harry strongly of the twins.

"Do what?" he asked playfully. "This?" He started walking the edge of the roof like a balance beam, his long arms held out on either side, wind ruffling his hair and robes. He wobbled dramatically and Hermione gave a little shriek.

"Stop it!" she cried, still clinging to the wall.

"Harry!" Harry turned and saw Neville waving at him from a short distance away. "We found some!" Glancing back at Ron, who was now grinning wildly as he pantomimed losing his balance near the edge, Harry went over to Hermione and offered her a hand. She clutched it gratefully and they picked their way carefully over towards Neville and Gwyn who had located several Gargoyles sitting on a crumbling parapet.

"Hey!" Ron called jogging to catch up.

"Insensitive prat!" Hermione retorted angrily. Harry glanced over at Ron who looked absolutely shocked.

"See if you can't lure that one out a little more, Neville," Gwyn said. Harry and the others watched as Neville cautiously approached the little knob of stone. He considered for a moment how to "lure it out" as Gwyn suggested, then, failing to come up with anything, picked up a pebble and chucked it at the creature. Instantly the little form began to move. This one had large wings like an eagle and a rather globular face with enormous round ears and a big 'O' shaped mouth, but it didn't seem to have any teeth or claws. It began to beat its wings furiously and emitted a strangely deep guttural clanging noise like a large church bell. It turned to face Neville and suddenly a powerful blast of water shot out of its mouth, hitting Neville squarely in the face. Shocked, Neville launched backwards towards the edge and Hermione screamed.

"Impedimenta!" Harry shouted, drawing his wand without even thinking about it. Neville froze mid air, still leaning dangerously out over the edge, his arms splayed wildly in an attempt to regain his balance, and his eyes screwed shut against the Gargoyle water. Gwyn hurried over, dropping the great butterfly net, and grabbed both of his hands, trying to pull him back away from the edge. Neville's shoes scraped against the gravel on the ground as she pulled, and Harry hurried over to help her. Once Neville seemed to be out of danger, Harry waved his wand and muttered "Finite incatatem," and Neville stumbled back to life.

"Thanks," he sputtered, regaining his balance. He was soaked to the skin from the Gargoyle's blast.

"Let's catch this thing quick so you can get inside," Harry said. Gwyn picked up her net and went back over to the Gargoyle, which had moved a bit in its attempt to frighten Neville away. She easily slapped the net down over it, but at once it began to thrash and to try to take off.

"Now what?" she demanded loudly over the ringing tones of the Gargoyle's cry.

"There's a string!" Harry said suddenly, spotting it. He hurried forward and pulled on it, causing the net to cinch up like a drawstring bag, but it couldn't close completely without catching part of the Gargoyle in the net, and part out.

"Flip it over!" Harry commanded. Gwyn did, and just as the Gargoyle jumped in the air to try to fly away, Harry pulled the drawstring tight and it was caught. Gwyn grinned at him.

"Don't touch me!" Hermione yelled suddenly. Harry turned to find her sitting, curled in a little ball, against one of the far walls. Ron was squatting next to her, and had obviously been trying to comfort her. Apparently, however, it wasn't working.

"Don't even talk to me!" she yelled, standing up again. She took a few steps away from him, but didn't leave the safety of the wall. "I never make fun when you're afraid of a little cobweb!" Ron's face began to turn red. He opened his mouth to try to say something, but Hermione cut him off.

"I don't want to hear it, Ronald Weasley! You can just sod off! I can't help that I d-don't like h-heights!" She crossed her arms angrily and bit her lip, which Harry recognized as a tactic she used when she was trying not to cry. He turned to Neville who was now sniffling loudly.

"Why don't you and Gwyn take Hermione and the Gargoyle back and see if Hagrid will let you go for the rest of the class." Neville nodded.

"I'll stay and help you," Gwyn said brightly, handing Neville the net with the Gargoyle still struggling at the end. Still looking like an angry cat, Hermione joined Neville and the two of them made their way back towards Hagrid and the others. For a moment, Ron stood glaring at their backs, his face an angry shade of red. When they were gone, Ron turned and stomped away in the opposite direction. Harry sighed.

"Good thing I stayed," Gwyn observed. "I think there's another one under this ledge." Harry was relieved of the need to respond by allowing himself to search for the Gargoyle. He fished around under the ledge with his net, but there wasn't enough clearance to get it around the little lump, which was huddled in the corner protesting loudly at them with a higher pitched ringing than the other. Gwyn squatted down, peering under the ledge and trying to figure out how to get the little monster to come out. Shooting Harry a wary glance, she picked up a loose rock.

"Nothing for it," she said with a shrug. Harry stood back several paces and readied the net. Gwyn tried to hide herself behind a large bit of crumbled stone and then lobbed the stone at the Gargoyle. The stone made contact with a clatter and the little beast leaped into the air, taking off.

"Oh no!" Gwyn cried as the little grey creature flapped upwards. Harry's Quiddich instincts took over and he swung out with the net, missing the Gargoyle by a hair. He swung again, and felt the weight of it catch against the net.

"The string!" he cried. Gwyn ran over and grasped for the string as Harry tried to keep the struggling beast confined to the net. She gave it a hard yank and the net closed over the Gargoyle. Harry pulled the net back, over the solid rock wall, and took a look at their catch. This one was quite a bit smaller than the other and had a long pointed face. It had two horns growing out of its head, one growing out of its chin, and two long fangs hanging out of its mouth. Its wings beat hard against the net, but didn't seem to be in danger of tearing it. It let out another loud, reverberating ring.

"B flat," Gwyn said with a smile. Harry shifted the net and was surprised at how heavy the Gargoyle was for its size. Gwyn's smile faded and she looked at him earnestly, strands of blonde and pink hair curling neatly around her face.

"Listen, Harry, about what I said earlier..."

"Er, let's just get this thing back to Hagrid," Harry interrupted, looking away. "It's not getting any lighter." Gwyn stared at him for a moment, but nodded. Silently they made their way back towards Hagrid, listening to the occasional bell-like sounds that rang through the muggy afternoon air.

As they rounded the last corner, they were met with the sight of Malfoy and Hagrid facing off. Malfoy's partner, Nott, was standing behind them soaking wet and looking terrified, a Gargoyle lying still at his feet.

"Never in all meh years!" Hagrid bellowed deafeningly. His face was red above his wild beard and his eyes burned with a fury Harry had never seen. "Fifty points from Slytherin! Detention! And Professor Dumbledore will 'ave ter hear about this!" Malfoy sneered.

"You're damned right he will!" he snapped. "Just wait until I tell my father. That thing bit me while I was under your so-called supervision! You'll be sacked this time for sure, if I have anything to say about it!"

"And you'll be expelled if I 'ave anythin' ter say about it!" Hagrid roared. "Killin' innocent creatures ain't never justified!" Harry saw Gwyn's eyes widen as they both realized that the Gargoyle at Nott's feet was dead. "Now get outta my sight!" Hagrid bellowed, pointing at the door. Still fuming, Malfoy turned haughtily and went into the castle with Nott following close on his heels. As they entered the passage, Harry heard Malfoy laugh. The words "two beasts with one stone..." echoed out to them. Harry clenched his fists around the Gargoyle net, bitter anger coursing through his veins.

He and Gwyn hurried forward as Hagrid bent to pick up the fallen Gargoyle. It wasn't any bigger than the one they had caught, and it fit snugly in the palm of Hagrid's enormous hand. He stared down at it for a long moment.

"Is it really dead?" Gwyn asked timidly. Hagrid nodded.

"Can't rightly figure how he done it, neither," he said as he gazed sadly at the little body in his hands. "T'ain't easy ter kill a Gargoyle."

"Is there anything we can do, Hagrid?" Harry asked. Hagrid looked down at him, his beetle black eyes watering.

"Nah, nah," he said quickly. "Nothin' ter be done. You just get that one down ter the hut," he said, indicating the Gargoyle still flapping its wings in their net. "There's crates for 'em near the pumpkin patch. I got ter round up the rest o' the class..."

With heavy hearts, Gwyn and Harry made their way back through the attic passageway, down the many stairs to the Entrance Hall and out into the grounds. Harry's arms were beginning to feel like rubber as he continued to hold the heavy Gargoyle, although it had finally stopped thrashing and ringing and now once again resembled a very crudely wrought sculpture. As they crossed the grounds, they met Neville and Hermione coming back from Hagrid's hut. Hermione drew her wand as she saw them approaching.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" she said, flicking her wand at Harry's net, which instantly became as light as air as it floated out of his hands.

"Why didn't I think of that?" he grumbled, flexing his sore muscles.

"You go ahead, Neville. I'll help Harry and Gwyn," Hermione said, directing the net to fly in front of them towards Hagrid's hut. She seemed to feel much better now that her feet were planted on solid ground. Neville nodded and hurried back up towards the castle. He was no longer soaked, and Harry suspected that that might also have been Hermione's handiwork.

"I think I'll head back too," Gwyn said suddenly. She glanced at Harry and then averted her eyes. "If it's all the same to you," she added. He nodded and she turned quickly back up the hill.

"Everything OK, Harry?" Hermione asked as they started back towards the hut.

"Not by half," Harry replied glumly. He quickly recounted what had happened between Hagrid and Malfoy as they reached the crates Hagrid had assembled in his pumpkin patch. They carried the Gargoyle over to an empty one and unceremoniously dumped it in.

"He's just vile," Hermione said vehemently as they watched the Gargoyle hide in the straw at the bottom of the crate. It clanged again meekly, and Harry suddenly decided the little lump was quite cute. He felt a hot, sick jolt of anger at Malfoy. Slowly, he and Hermione stood and headed back towards the castle. Neither seemed in much of a hurry to get back.

"What happened to Ron?" Hermione asked finally. Harry shrugged.

"Dunno. He just stormed off somewhere after you left." She studied the ground as they walked.

"Why does he have to be such an insensitive ass all the time?" she demanded. "I mean, it's not as though I go around teasing him about spiders or anything. You don't make fun of me for being afraid of heights." Harry shrugged.

"Well, I already knew about it, didn't I?" he said. "I'm the one that got the life squeezed out of me and my eardrums split riding Buckbeak." Hermione shrugged, still looking surly. Harry didn't know what to tell her.

"I expect he just thought he was being funny," he said with a shrug, though it sounded a lame excuse, even to him.

"Well he wasn't!" Hermione retorted. "He could have fallen, or the rocks could have given way, or a strong gust of wind..." She scowled, but Harry could hear the genuine concern in her tone. "He's such a child!" she spat finally. "Next thing you know he'll be pulling my hair and shooting dung bombs at me at lunch. Honestly, if I didn't know any better I'd think..." Her voice trailed off.

"What?" Harry asked. Hermione blushed.

"What? Nothing." They made their way back to the common room in silence. As they climbed through the portrait hole, Harry saw Ron slumped in a squashy armchair near the windows. He and Hermione looked at one another across the room and he quickly stood and headed for the dormitory stairs.

"See you at dinner, Harry," Hermione said coldly as she headed in the opposite direction. Harry sighed.