The Knights Of Walpurgis

Chapter Six: Defiance, Defence And An Erumpent

Ron stifled a groan as he looked over his timetable. He passed Harry's across the table to him, and Harry felt his heart sink as well as he looked at where Ron was pointing.

Wednesday 2.20 - 5.00 Potions

Friday 3.40 - 5.00 Potions

"I failed Potions," Ron said. "And you didn't get the mark that Snape said we needed. Why are we down for it for our NEWTs?"

"Because, Weasley," Professor McGonagall said, stopping behind Ron as she handed out timetables, "you said that you wanted to be an Auror during our careers advice session last year, and you will need a Potions NEWT to qualify for training. Professor Snape had very few people opt to take NEWT level Potions this year, and therefore I was able to arrange places for the two of you in his class. I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that you will be joined by Miss Granger and Mr. Longbottom."

McGonagall strode off, and Ron looked mournfully at Harry.

"The way she says it," he said, "you'd almost think she was doing us a favour."

They stayed sitting in shared dejectedness until Hermione came down to breakfast with Lavender. She sat opposite the two of them, dumping her heavily-laden bag on the table and pulling that morning's Daily Prophet from under her arm, dropping it beside her bag.

She was halfway through a slice of toast when she remembered the paper, unwrapping it and Vanishing the sting and paper with a wave of her wand. Her eyes widened in surprise as she looked at the front page, and the toast hung forgotten from her mouth.

"What's up?" Ron asked, shoving his timetable as deeply into his bag as possible.

"It didn't take them very long," Hermione replied, after removing the slice of toast from her mouth. She handed the paper across the table.

DIGGORY TO FOLLOW POTTER'S EXAMPLE: NEW MINISTER ASKS STAFF TO PREPARE FOR WAR

By Angelo Hierro, Staff Writer

An internal Ministry of Magic memo shows Minister Diggory's shocking new plan for tackling You-Know-Who and his followers, the Prophet can exclusively reveal.

In a memo dated last Friday, Diggory urges his staff to practise their hexes, jinxes and curses in case they are called upon to fight against the Death Eaters.

Diggory swept to victory in last week's elections, promising a tough stance against Dark magic users. Diggory, whose son Cedric is believed to have been killed by one of the followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named just over a year ago, has stated that he wishes Ministry staff to follow the example of Harry Potter, who set up a Defence Against the Dark Arts practise group at Hogwarts School last year.

The group, named Dumbledore's Army after the school Headmaster, played a key part in the shortness of the reign of Dolores Umbridge as the Headmistress of Hogwarts. Umbridge, a close colleague of recently-deposed Minister Cornelius Fudge, was a highly unpopular choice for such an influential position.

In capitalising on Potter's example, Diggory clearly hopes to make the point to his staff that adult witches and wizards should be able to match the achievements of a fifteen year old boy.

Diggory was unavailable for comment last night, but members of his personal staff refuted the suggestion that he was preparing an army for an all out war against You-Know-Who and his followers.

"The Minister wants his staff to be prepared to defend themselves," a harassed looking Percy Weasley, Junior Assistant to the Minister, announced. "There is no suggestion that the Minister would send untrained forces into battle. At this time it is simply felt to be prudent to take all precautions."

The full text of the memo, reproduced opposite, suggests otherwise, however.

Time will tell whether Diggory's first act as Minister will be seen as genius or folly. The Prophet will keep its readers informed, whatever the final outcome.

"Well... We knew they'd find out sooner or later, right?" Ron said.

"It doesn't sound very good, does it?" Hermione said.

"They're making it sound like Mr. Diggory wants to go after Voldemort for killing Cedric," Harry said.

"Do you think he does?" Hermione asked.

Harry remembered the last time that he had seen Mr. Diggory, sobbing brokenly in the hospital wing. Was that man capable of such a desperate act?

"I don't know," he said.

*

Harry and Ron had a free period on Monday mornings, but rather than going back to bed, as Ron wanted to do, or going out on his Firebolt, as Harry wanted to do, they found themselves in the library, as Hermione wanted them to do. Harry wasn't able to explain quite how he'd been convinced into doing homework before they'd even had any classes, except that Hermione had had a definite tone of voice when she'd been telling them that they needed to get ahead with their NEWT work as both would be busy with Quidditch and the DA over the coming months. Ron had protested feebly that the NEWTs were nearly two years away, but Hermione's tone of voice had been accompanied by a definite look in her eyes, and they had decided that it probably wasn't worth the effort to argue. Instead, they had approached Professor Sprout for information on their forthcoming Herbology assignments and spent an hour and a half looking through heavy books on herb lore and plant ancestry. By the time Hermione appeared in the library, fresh from her Arithmancy class with Professor Vector, Harry had the beginnings of what he thought might be quite a good essay on the origins of the Venomous Tentacula, while Ron had a surprisingly lifelike drawing of Crabbe and Goyle being hit by Bludgers while playing Quidditch. He quickly shoved this inside his robes when Hermione appeared, and returned to his meagre Herbology notes.

"How are you two getting on?" Hermione said cheerfully, setting her heavy bag on the desk.

"Okay," Harry replied.

"Great," Ron added. Hermione glanced at Ron's almost pristine parchment and frowned.

"It's all up here," he said hurriedly, tapping his temple with the end of his quill.

"Mm-hmm." Hermione didn't sound convinced. "Well, we should be going. It's Defence next, and I'm sure Professor Weasley won't want us being late to his first class."

"Hermione, you've lived with the bloke," Ron said, standing up and shoving his things, including the drawing of Crabbe and Goyle, haphazardly into his bag. "You can call him Bill."

"Ron," Hermione said patiently. "While he's a Professor here, we should show him some respect."

"Fat chance," Ron grinned. "Bill's always gone on about how good he is with curses and stuff. He'll have to prove it before he'll catch me calling him Professor."

*

"My name, Mr. Weasley?"

Harry and Hermione were trying not to laugh. No one else was making the effort. The entire Defence class was helpless with laughter as Ron floated above Bill's desk, upside down and with a large spider crawling up his arm. Harry could tell that it was all Ron could do not to scream, let alone rectify his mistake of not taking Bill seriously as a teacher.

"Well," Bill said, turning away. "Until Mr. Weasley regains the power of speech, we'll continue with the class. As I was saying, and as is ably demonstrated by Mr. Weasley here, the Upendus trap is a nasty little trick found in the early stages of many tombs." Bill tucked his fingers into the armholes of his dragon-hide waistcoat and tugged it forward, shaking his head a little to flick his ponytail at the same time. "The first time I walked into one, I saw my mum, and she was screaming at me for nearly getting expelled in my fifth year. The second time, I was face to face with an old girlfriend, and she was telling me she was getting married to the idiot who nearly got me expelled. There wasn't a third time."

He flashed a grin at the class, who were watching him intently. Ron's struggles continued futilely behind Bill, and he seemed well aware that everyone had one eye on him and one eye on his younger brother.

"So, it's a trap that shows us our very worst memories, and that disorients us by hanging us upside down in mid-air. Nasty thing, as Mr. Weasley will attest." Bill waved his wand, and Ron crashed to the ground in an ungainly manner. "Now, I prefer to have live subjects for my displays, and I'm sure I'll pick on all of you at some point, but as a friendly warning, a brotherly warning even, I don't stand for people messing about in my class. I wouldn't take it from trainee curse breakers; I won't take it from you. What I teach might save your life one day, 'cos it's not just ancient Egyptian tombs where you'll find this stuff. And I don't just teach traps, either. I'll give you a good going through on curses, hexes, protection spells and all sorts of nasty stuff you wouldn't normally run into outside of a Dark Wizard's personal playground."

He paused. Even Ron had stopped struggling now, although the spider was disappearing under his collar and inside his shirt.

"I hope to Circe you'll never need them," Bill said, with every eye fixed on him. "But just in case, you'll learn them. And you'll learn more in the DA, too, if you join. I'll make damn sure of that, and so will Mr. Potter, I bet."

Harry stared intently forward as half of the other students turned to look at him. He hoped that not every teacher was planning on singling him out for attention, but he had to admit that it felt good to be acknowledged by a wizard like Bill, who knew Defence tricks that Harry hadn't even heard of.

Bill continued with the lesson, introducing a number of basic traps that the Egyptian priest-wizards would have set in the first stages of a pharaoh's tomb. Ron stayed silent for the rest of the class, and remained rather sullen until after a large lunch, which seemed to restore his spirits somewhat.

*

Harry and Ron had a fairly easy start to the week, but Hermione made sure that they were generally found in the library when they would have rather been doing other things. Harry in particular, eager to get back on his Firebolt after nearly a year without flying, was chafing at being forced to prepare for Potions after Transfiguration class on Tuesday afternoon. Ron was eager to get out and fly as well, although Harry and Katie had decided not to tell him that he had been chosen as the new Quidditch captain until the first training session. Harry in particular was looking forward to Ron's reaction, which he was sure would be truly memorable.

In the end, Hermione gave in and shut her book with a sigh.

"Look at it this way, Hermione," Ron said, as he closed his bag. "Snape'll find out somehow what it is we've been studying, and he'll never let us study that in class, will he?"

Hermione didn't answer, but instead booked out the Potions text she was studying and carried it down to the Quidditch pitch, where she sat pointedly in the stands as Harry and Ron played a fast game of pick-up Quidditch. They were joined soon after by Ginny, fresh from classes and eager to try out her Firebolt. After a few minutes Harry realised that Ginny was, to his surprise, slightly faster than he on her Firebolt. Krum's comment in Quality Quidditch Supplies came back to him as it occurred to him that Ginny, small as she was, had to be lighter than he was as well.

Soon Ginny and Harry took to bombarding Ron with shot after shot as they tested his reflexes in front of the goal hoops. By the time they were all tired out and back on the ground, Ron seemed to be greatly improved from his performances the previous year. Although he wasn't saving every shot, and there was still a lot of room for improvement, he had pulled off some impressive saves, including one where he'd managed to stop shots from both Harry and Ginny at the same time. When they sat down with Hermione for dinner after stopping off in Gryffindor tower to shower and put away their brooms, Ron was talking enthusiastically about the teams chances of retaining the Quidditch Cup.

"-I mean, we've got a pretty good team, right? Harry doesn't miss the Snitch, Katie's a good Chaser and even Kirke and Sloper have to get better, right? After last year - "

He stopped talking abruptly as he realised that Luna Lovegood had walked up behind him without making any noise. Ron looked over his shoulder at her curiously.

"Hello Ronald," she said. "Hello everyone."

"Hi Luna," Ginny said. Harry smiled at the blonde Ravenclaw. Hermione nodded.

"Ronald, will you be going on the next Hogsmeade weekend?" Luna asked, her prominent eyes fixed on his.

"Er, I suppose so," Ron shrugged. He turned around in his seat to look at her more closely. "Why?"

"I would like it if we could have a Butterbeer together," Luna said, still staring directly at him. Ron shifted in his seat. "If you have the time, of course."

"Er..." Ron said, shifting slightly in his seat. "I mean, yeah, sure, if you want. Who else is going?"

"Oh, it will be just us," Luna smiled. "Will that be okay?"

Harry wished that he could see Ron's face as he realised that he'd just agreed to go on a date with Luna Lovegood. He knew that Ron wasn't quite sure what to make of the Ravenclaw girl, although Harry knew that she was not as strange as other people often thought. Still, Ron seemed to be handling himself reasonably well. Luna walked away with a smile, and Ron turned back to the others, eyes fixed firmly on his plate, the tips of his ears bright red.

"Ron, I know you'll be very happy together," Ginny said, her amusement obvious in her voice.

Ron glanced up briefly, but didn't say anything.

"She's really nice," Harry offered.

"S'nuffin," Ron snorted, around a mouthful of mashed potato. He swallowed and tried again. "It's nothing," he repeated. "Look, it's not a date, right? It's just... two friends meeting for a drink. And we're not going to Madam bloody Puddifoot's, before you say anything," he snapped, as Hermione opened her mouth. She closed it again, and didn't say anything. Harry thought that she looked rather angry. No one said anything for several seconds.

"Do you know anything at all about Luna?" Hermione asked coolly. Ron looked up at her and shrugged.

"She's alright," he said. "Bit weird."

"But you've agreed to go on a date with her?" Hermione asked. "Don't you think that's a little bit unfair, Ron?"

"To who?" Ron asked, looking bemused.

"To... To Luna, of course," Hermione said, glaring daggers at him. "You're... you're... you're getting her hopes up."

"I'm what?" Ron asked. "Hermione, what are you talking about?"

"Ron," Hermione said, her jaw sticking out. "If Luna likes you, although heaven only knows why she would - "

"Hey!" Ron protested.

"- If she likes you," Hermione continued, "then it's not fair of you to string her along."

"String her along?" Ron echoed, looking from Hermione to Harry to Ginny and back in complete confusion. "Hermione, she asked me, remember? I thought she was going to ask all of us as a group, or a DA thing or something. What was I supposed to say? 'Sorry Luna, the idea of having a Butterbeer is a bit daft 'cos I don't even know you'? Anyway, how am I supposed to get to know her if I don't spend a bit of time with her?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes and fixed Ron with a gaze that left him as immobile as Luna's had a few moments before. "Ron, if you don't know why it's 'a bit daft' for you to go on a date with Luna Lovegood, then I suggest that you go away and think about it."

With that, Hermione stood up and stormed out of the Great Hall in the direction of the library. Ron watched after her with a thoroughly confused expression on his face.

"Mad," he said, standing up almost absent-mindedly. "I've always said so. Haven't I always said so? Completely, totally, stark raving mad."

He walked away in the opposite direction from Hermione, leaving his half-eaten dinner forlornly on the table.

Harry turned to look at Ginny, who was halfway out of her seat and seemed ready to go after Hermione.

"What was that about?" he asked. "I thought that they were getting on alright these days? They've barely argued since last year."

Ginny stopped and looked at him. Once again, Harry had the feeling that he'd failed some sort of test as she did grimaced and looked away.

"I have to go," she said. "But it's not that hard to work out, Harry. I'll see you later."

With that, Ginny was gone, leaving Harry alone at the table, feeling rather confused.

*

Ron had tossed and turned all night, eventually thumping his pillows as hard as he was able to and stalking down stairs. Harry found him sleeping on a sofa in the common room the next morning, and, from the bags under his eyes as he half-heartedly tackled a bowl of cereal, it didn't appear as if Ron had slept very well at all.

Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to be completely unaffected by the row that they'd had. She breezed in to the Great Hall with her roommates Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, and the three sat a little way down the table from Harry and Ron, together with Ginny and some of her friends. Hermione completely ignored the two of them even when the bell rang, and the sixth years began to make their way to Care of Magical Creatures by Hagrid's hut. She walked ahead of them, chatting freely with Dean, and even seeming to tease him at one point.

Hagrid grinned widely at the class as they crossed the grounds and formed a semi-circle around them.

"Right then, welcome back to all of yeh," he declared, rubbing his hands together. "'Ope yeh've all had a good summer. Now, we're starting on NEWT level creatures this term, so I figured I'd get us off to a flying start with one of the more interesting of 'em."

He turned away and stuck two fingers in his mouth, before blowing a loud, sharp whistle. There was an answering whistle from inside the forest, and Hagrid turned back with a grin that, if anything was even wider than it had previously been.

"Only arrived las' night," he said. "Dumbledore had to use a lot of favours to get us a live one, all the way from Africa, too."

The branches of a nearby tree rustled, and the students turned to look. Several stepped quickly backwards as into view came a huge, grey animal, nearly twelve feet in height, with a tall black man sat astride its back.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered. Hermione shot him an exasperated look from across the clearing into which the beast was being guided by its rider. Before Ron could notice, however, the huge animal stepped in between them and stopped to let its rider dismount.

"Thanks, Albert," Hagrid said, shaking the rider's hand.

"No problems," Albert replied. "Just don't let anyone get too close, right? Shaggy's not eaten yet this morning."

As one, the class took a step backward. Harry stared dubiously at the animal, which looked a lot like a rhinoceros, although the long horn on its nose was larger, and sharper, than he had ever seen on any wildlife programme the Dursleys had let him watch. As the beast stamped one huge leg, making the ground shake beneath their feet, Harry found himself thinking of dinosaurs.

"Er..." Seamus had raised his hand, and Hagrid nodded to him. "Shaggy?"

"Everything's gotta have a name," the rider shrugged.

"Right, yeah," Seamus said, as Shaggy, who was completely hairless, turned to look at him curiously. "It's a grand name, sure enough."

"Right, okay," Hagrid said, stepping forward and slapping Shaggy on his flank, which was nearly ten feet in the air. Albert stepped quickly back. Everyone else seemed frozen in place. "Now, anyone know what Shaggy here is?"

Harry turned automatically to look at Hermione, just barely visible as Shaggy turned its head to and fro. Hermione, too, seemed too preoccupied to reply. She was staring at the long horn at the end of Shaggy's nose, which was over two feet in length.

"No one? Hermione?" Hagrid asked, looking at her as well.

"Erumpent," Hermione said, absently.

"Right, right," Hagrid beamed. He clapped Shaggy on the side again. The class took another step back. "Shaggy here is an erumpent. Now, can anyone tell me where you'd find Shaggy an' his mates?"

"Africa," Ernie McMillan volunteered beside Harry.

"Right!" Hagrid seemed delighted. "An' this?" he pointed a Shaggy's horn. "Anyone know what this can do?"

No one seemed to know this. Even Hermione didn't offer an answer. Hagrid looked a little bit disappointed, but shrugged and wandered back to his hut. He brought out one of his giant pumpkins and stood just outside the doorway.

"Tough things, erumpents. Not much yeh can do that'll hurt 'em. Skins too thick to be effected by spells, and they don' mind a bit o' firm handling, neither. Now," he said. "You'll be wanting to get Shield Charms up. Good ones, too. This is goin' ter splatter a bit."

Harry looked at the pumpkin, then at Shaggy, and then back at the pumpkin. He didn't know exactly what Hagrid was planning, but knew that he had a tendency to underplay the dangers of the creatures he showed off. He drew his wand.

"Can I share?" Harry looked around and saw Susan Bones smiling at him nervously. "I'm not very good with Shield Charms, and if Hagrid says that this is going to splatter, well..."

Susan, Harry noticed, was wringing her hands as she looked from Shaggy to him to Hagrid's pumpkin.

"Sure," he said. "Just stay low. We can probably overlap a few charms, just to be on the safe side."

He nodded to Ron and Dean, who were standing either side of him, and they knelt down and held their wands in line with one another. Susan knelt behind Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder. All around the half-circle, the other members of the class were copying their example, and soon everyone was knelt down.

"Right, everyone ready?"

There was a chorus of affirmatives, and wands were leveled in Shaggy's direction.

"Right, on three, cast yer charms," Hagrid ordered, hefting the pumpkin onto one shoulder. Albert could just be seen behind Hagrid's hut, his head poking around one side, the rest well hidden.

"One, two, three!"

"PROTEGO!" Two dozen voices roared in unison as Hagrid threw the pumpkin over Shaggy. The shield charms flared to life, overlapping and forming a thick, impenetrable barrier in front of the students. The pumpkin landed squarely on Shaggy's horn, impaling itself neatly, and Harry held his breath.

And then it exploded.

The shields were spattered with voluminous blasts of roasted pumpkin and an acrid stench filled the air. Harry felt slightly sick as the spicy scent assailed his nostrils. He turned to Susan, who still had one hand on his shoulder. She looked rather ill, her face a nasty green colour that Harry wouldn't have thought possible on a human being. Harry took hold of her arm for support as she put her hand over her mouth. She seemed to be on the edge of throwing up, but as she looked up at him, she shuddered and shook her head.

"I'll be okay," she muttered. "Sorry, Harry. I wouldn't have wanted you to see me like this."

"It's okay," Harry said, frowning slightly. "It's not a very nice smell."

"No," she said, grimacing. "Oh, I hate pumpkin. Why couldn't Hagrid have used carrots, or peas or something I actually like?"

Harry wasn't sure what to say, exactly, and looked around for Hermione or someone to help. Fortunately, Ernie looked around at that moment and hurried over.

"Are you okay, Susan?" he asked.

"Yes, just feeling a bit off colour," she managed, smiling somewhat ruefully. "I don't like pumpkin. It's so silly. Harry was good enough to help me stay upright."

"Oh, well, thanks, Harry," Ernie nodded shortly, his attention on Susan. "Do you want to go up to the hospital wing?" he asked, taking her hand from Harry's shoulder.

"No, no, I'm okay Ernie," Susan insisted. "Sorry, Harry. You must think I'm such an idiot."

"No, I don't," Harry said.

"Let's get you in to see Madam Pomfrey," Ernie said. "You don't look at all well."

"What do you think, Harry?" Susan asked, still looking very green-cheeked.

"Um, you should probably go in," Harry said. "I don't think Hagrid's going to clean up the pumpkin while Shaggy's still here."

"Exactly," Ernie said. "Come on, I'll make sure you get there okay."

"Thank you Ernie," Susan said. "Thank you, Harry."

"That's okay," Harry said. "Hope you feel better soon."

"What was all that about?" Ron asked, as Harry rejoined the class. Hagrid was expounding on the powerful poison that could be found in an erumpent's horn.

"Susan Bones," Harry said. "She was feeling ill."

"Oh," Ron shrugged. "She all right?"

"Yeah. Ernie's looking after her."

"Right. Hagrid hasn't changed, has he?"

They watched as Hagrid calmly grabbed Shaggy's horn and hauled the startled beast's mouth open, waving his hand calmly inside as he pointed out its sharp, lethal looking teeth.

"Not a bit," Harry agreed happily.

*

"Unfortunately for me, I am forced to endure your presence in this class. Unfortunate, because only four people in this class achieved the required grade by which you automatically qualify. The rest of you, sadly, show little skill or interest in the topic. And yet you are here. I would ask you, in that case, to cause as little disruption as possible, especially to the few among your number who actually seem to possess some skill in this subject."

Professor Snape sat behind his desk and waved his wand at the blackboard.

"These are the instructions for the Sense Smothering Potion, a potent and noxious nerve agent used by Aurors and others with need to disable many opponents quickly. You will need to use some form of respiratory charm in order to brew this properly in an enclosed space. You will need to do this quietly. Do I make myself clear, Weasley?"

Ron, who had been leaning across the aisle to say something to Harry, sat back in his chair and nodded once.

"Excellent. The ingredients can be found in the store cupboard. Anyone who passes out will automatically fail and be removed from this course. I do not tolerate time wasters when teaching NEWT level Potions, and if I feel that you are incapable, then you will be made to leave. I only require a minimum number of students at the start of the year. I can remove as many of you from this class as I desire, and I shall have no hesitation in doing so."

Snape settled back in his chair, and Harry let out a slow breath. For a moment, Snape had almost seemed human, or at least less inhuman than in previous years. But the malevolent glint in his black eyes as he scanned the room confirmed the Potion master's very real desire to expel a number of students from his class. His gaze was particularly sour as it settled on Ron and Neville, and barely less so as he met Harry's gaze. Harry quickly looked back down at his parchment and scribbled the last of the ingredients for the potion.

The class had been divided into eight pairs for the first stage of preparation, and Harry had been lucky enough to sit next to Hermione. As the class conjured breathing charms to filter out the potion's fumes, Harry did his best to copy Hermione's precise movements as nearly as possible. Ron and Neville, on the other hand, appeared to be in trouble almost instantly. Snape was quick to cross the classroom and peer down at them.

"Longbottom," he murmured, his voice reaching the ears of everyone in the room. "While I admit that I find your grasp of the Bubblehead Charm surprisingly adequate, I cannot help but wonder why you would think it an acceptable method of air filtration to use when it blurs your vision and makes the fine judgment required of this subject impossible."

He rapped the air-bubble over Neville's head with his wand, bursting it with a loud pop. Neville instinctively took a breath, sucking in some of the fumes from his and Ron's potion. The rest of the class watched him, waiting for him to fall unconscious, but Neville just looked very embarrassed, his cheeks flushed a bright red.

"Clearly," Snape said, savouring the moment, "your potion is as worthless as your knowledge of respiratory charms, Longbottom. Fortunately for you, I have given you just enough time to rescue this - " he vanished Ron and Neville's potion with a wave of his wand " - by making up a new batch, so you may not be removed from this course immediately. Now, I suggest that you start quickly, and be careful, Longbottom, because next time I may not be in such a helpful mood."

Snape strode back to his desk as Ron made his back to the store cupboard. Harry glanced across at Neville as he stirred his own potion. The glow in Neville's cheeks remained, but Neville's expression had changed. He glared furiously at Snape, who stared indifferently over the class, his gaze settling on the desk where Malfoy and Theodore Nott were working silently on their own potion. Malfoy glanced up and met Harry's gaze for a moment, his blonde eyebrows knitting together over the sleek curve of his air filter.

Harry felt Malfoy's gaze boring into him, the Slytherin's expression completely blank. He looked back unmovingly, not wanting to give Malfoy any reason to attack, or to goad him into taking out his anger on one of Harry's friends.

He probably will, even if I don't give him a reason, Harry thought as they looked away from one another at the same time. But I don't want to end up like Sirius and my father, plaguing him every chance I get. His dad's in jail. Maybe...

He was called back to his potion by a sharp elbow in the ribs from Hermione and was only just in time to stop it boiling over. Snape watched him in obvious amusement as he burnt his fingers on the bluebell flame beneath his beaker before he managed to put it out. A loud snort from the other side of the room told Harry that one of the Slytherins had seen it as well.

By the time the lesson came to an end, there was an almost perfect Sense Smothering Potion sitting in front of Harry. Hermione was showing him the fine mist hovering above the surface of her beaker. Harry's own beaker was letting off a gentle steam, which he hoped meant that it wasn't too far from being correct. Ron's was belching black smoke, however, and he looked pale even behind his filtration charm.

Neville was the first to rise from his desk when Snape summoned them to the front to hand in their potions. Harry watched in amazement as Neville deposited a beaker on Snape's desk that had barely a hint of mist hovering over it. Neville stood behind his beaker, eyes fixed intently on Snape, who was staring equally as intently at a piece of parchment on his lap.

The rest of the class was watching Neville again, Harry knew. There was a feeling in the air, as though fifteen people were all holding their breath. Finally, after nearly a minute, Snape looked up.

"If you are waiting for your mark, Longbottom, then I hope you are comfortable. I will grade your work tomorrow and return it to you on Friday."

Harry felt Hermione take a sharp breath beside him. Apparently, she hadn't been holding her breath after all. On the other side of the room, he heard the too-familiar sound of Pansy Parkinson laughing.

"What's up?" Harry muttered, as Neville slowly turned away and returned to his desk.

"The potion," Hermione whispered. "It doesn't keep. If Snape marks it tomorrow it will have spoilt. Neville's made an almost perfect potion, and Snape's going to give him zero!"

*

Harry and Hermione hurried after Neville when the bell rang. He had made a beeline for the door and was halfway to the Great Hall by the time they caught up.

"Neville-"

"Save it, Harry," Neville said, a curious expression on his face. He looked both angry and resigned at the same time. "I really thought that I'd be okay this year, but it doesn't look like it, does it?"

"Snape's a git," Harry said. "But he can't fail you if you got the potion right, can he?"

"Of course not," Hermione said briskly. "He has to mark them all this evening or they'll spoil. If he does fail you, Neville, then we'll simply tell Professor Dumbledore that you made a perfect potion and- "

"No, you won't!" Neville cut in. "If Snape fails me, he fails me. I'm not having you fight my battles for me, Hermione. Or you, Harry. I can stand up for myself, alright?"

With that, Neville stormed off.

"What's up with Neville?" Ron asked, as he joined them.

"I... don't know," Hermione said, apparently forgetting that she and Ron weren't speaking. Almost more than anything else, this convinced Harry that she considered Neville's problems with Professor Snape to be very serious indeed.

To be continued...