At My Most Beautiful

Harry had returned from his run, showered, and was sitting, ready for classes, in the common room by seven the next morning, so he decided to take out a spare bit of parchment and make out plans for the junior team. If he had enough interest, he could have two complete teams, which would make practises more fun for them. He would just be sure to rotate them out in actual games with the other Houses, so that everyone got nearly equal playing time. If more than fourteen people wanted to participate, he would have to have some sort of rudimentary tryout – and to be fair to the Muggle-borns, it would have to be based more on potential and athletic fitness than pure flying ability. Harry had just finished sketching out his plans for a ‘tryout’ and a possible first practise or two when Ron and Hermione joined him. He stuffed the parchment into his schoolbag and shouldered it as the three headed down to breakfast.

“So you’re going to coach the juniors, Harry?” Hermione asked, and Harry replied with a nod.

“It should be fun,” Harry replied. “Oh, speaking of juniors, Hermione, you might want to keep an eye on the first year girls. I was in the common room last night and one of them came down crying. She’s been living in the States and the other girls were a bit mean to her.”

“Oh dear.” Hermione bit her lip. “Girls can be so cruel in their own way. What’s her name?”

“Kelly. We didn’t bother with last names,” Harry said sheepishly.

“Kennicot,” Hermione finished. “I remember her. Thanks for the tip, Harry.”

“Not a problem.”

Soon, the rest of Harry’s dorm had joined them at the Gryffindor Table, and the boys consumed vast quantities of pancakes, muffins, eggs, bacon, and porridge while Hermione merely raised her eyes and ate an orange and two pieces of toast. “I don’t know where you boys put all of that food,” she said with a laugh. “I’d be throwing up if I ate that much heavy stuff so early in the day. I have to wait for midday at least.”

Harry grinned, and Ron went off on a treatise on the importance of feeding growing boys. He was cut off mid-sentence by Hermione’s excited squeal. “Schedules! Here, boys, you pass out the sixth years’. I’ve got to get the second years’ handed out!”

Ron found himself holding all of the sixth years’ course schedules. He peeled off Lavender’s as well as Parvati’s before handing them the rest of the girls’, and then he took his off the pile. “Take yours and pass it on,” he said to Harry, who did just that, passing the pile to Neville.

Harry scanned it quickly. The Gryffindors still had Potions and Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins, but this year they would share their Defence lessons with them as well. Harry wondered what courses the others had elected to drop. He was certain that Neville had opted to continue Herbology and drop Potions, but he didn’t have a clue beyond that.

“So what’s everyone taking, then?” he asked the other four.

“Herbology, Arithmancy, Transfiguration, Charms, and Defence,” replied Neville. “Finally free of Snape!”

“So’m I,” Seamus chimed in. “I dropped Transfiguration and Herbology as well, so it’s just Charms, Defence, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, and History of Magic for me.”

Ron snorted. “You actually chose to stay in Divination and History of Magic?”

“Easy N.E.W.T.s, my friend, easy N.E.W.T.s. What about you, Dean?” Seamus nudged his best friend.

“I kept Defence, of course, and Charms, Transfiguration, and Care of Magical Creatures. I had a hard time deciding on the last one, though. Finally I just threw a dart. It hit Potions, so Potions it was.”

The others laughed heartily. “What about you two?” Seamus asked Ron and Harry. “Defence, I’m sure.”

Harry nodded. “I’m down for Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and Care of Magical Creatures as well.”

Ron had nodded as well. “Same as Harry. Much as I hate Snape, I have a feeling Potions will come in handier than History of Magic in the future.”

Hermione returned to her seat then. “What are we talking about?” she asked quickly.

“Our course choices,” Harry said. “What’re yours, Hermione?”

“Defence, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, and Arithmancy,” she recited, leaving the boys staring at her in disgust.

“You would be the one to take six subjects, Hermione,” Seamus teased. “We’ve all got Defence next, then. Let’s go!”

They were about to enter the classroom when Harry noticed an odd class on Wednesday afternoon. “What’s ‘Witches and Wizards’?”

The rest of the boys looked as puzzled as he, but Hermione blushed. “He explained it to the prefects. They decided to rename health class. Remember second year? We have to take it again in sixth year.”

Horrified, the boys all blushed and avoided looking anywhere but the floor. At least the class was only once a week!

Professor Figg entered the Defence classroom, smiling but still smelling like cats. “Welcome back,” she declared. “I’m pleased to have defeated the jinx on this particular position and to be joining you for another year. This year, we are going to delve further into offensive measures as well as more advanced techniques. If you examine your timetables, you will note that we have a Defence Practical on Friday afternoons. This term, this will require casual Muggle clothing. After the Christmas holidays, it will require Auror dress. We’ll talk about that more in detail as the time approaches. Now, I’ve looked at the homework I collected from your common rooms last night, and I want to hand them out and make a few comments.”

The previous year, Hogwarts had instituted a new system where summer work was placed in a box in each House’s common room and it was magically sorted and transported to the appropriate teacher’s office. Harry wasn’t surprised that Professor Figg was already done; she was one of the quickest markers in the school. He just hoped his summer assignment wasn’t too poorly done. He had ripped up his original essay halfway through the summer when he had been working through the sixth year curriculum, and he knew there were points he could’ve elaborated.

“I was especially pleased by two papers that I have taken the liberty of copying so everyone may read them.” Hermione perked up almost unconsciously. She was always near the top of the class, and her writing was among the best. Harry, however, knew that Defence was one of the two classes in which Malfoy usually beat her out for top spot, the other being Potions.

“Second-highest marks to Mr. Malfoy.” Malfoy smirked, but his eyes held a hint of anger at being second-highest. “Mr. Malfoy completed an excellent paper on using magic born of pure intent to combat the darkest of magics.” Harry furrowed his brow. Malfoy writing about something of pure intent? It was almost amusing, and certainly ironic.

“Just a half-point mark higher we have another excellent composition. I think we’re going to have quite a competition for top spot in this class this year. This is a remarkable paper comparing and contrasting curses and countercurses. Mr. Potter raises some important questions about the line between light and dark.”

Hermione turned to stare at Harry, and he himself felt his eyes bug slightly. He had the highest marks on the summer work? Oh, Hermione wasn’t going to be pleased. At least he knew it wouldn’t be happening in any other course. He tried not to blush as Professor Figg handed him his essay, and he concentrated on pulling out his text while she dispersed the rest of the summer work, as well as the copies of his and Malfoy’s essays. She thought there would be ‘quite a competition’ for top marks between him and Malfoy. Harry groaned inwardly. That couldn’t be a positive thing.

He pulled out a piece of parchment and began scribbling notes as Professor Figg started straight off with the first chapter of the text. By the end of the class, they split up into pairs, Harry managing to be with Ron for once, and were practising the new countercurses that they had just covered. Harry had been practising them nearly all summer, so he spent most of the time helping Ron. At the end of the class, Harry and Ron joined Dean outside for their free period, and Harry watched the two of them perfect the countercurses before it was time to head into Charms. Hermione was trying to excitedly tell them about the new material she would be covering in Arithmancy, but Harry lost her after the second or third word, and just smiled and nodded.

After lunch was the worst segment of the entire week. Triple Potions with the Slytherins. Harry almost envied Seamus and Neville as they headed off for Herbology, except for the fact that they still had it with the Slytherins.

Snape entered in his usual way. “Sadly, I see that most of you have managed to actually scrape together an adequate number of O.W.L.s to continue at this school. By selecting this course, you have expressed a desire to work towards earning N.E.W.T.s in Potions. Consequently, this course will increase in rigour. I expect caution and precision in brewing the potions.” Snape glared pointedly at the Gryffindor side of the classroom. “You will keep a detailed log of your practical experience in this course over the next two years, to be handed in to the N.E.W.T. grading committee at the end of your seventh year. Additionally, four-foot essays will be due each Friday on the potion or potions which we will be making the following week.” He took a deep breath, pivoting on his foot to write on the blackboard. “Therefore, each Wednesday we will cover important new points in theory. On Fridays, our double class will be concerned with uses, derivatives, and methods. Mondays, as I stated previously, will be solely dedicated to the actual art of potion making. Any questions?”

All of this was said in a darker tone than usual. Ron started to turn towards Harry, and Snape lashed out immediately. “Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley! In this class, you will focus on myself or your potion, nothing else.”

Harry could immediately sense that as strict as Snape had been before, it would be one hundred times more ferocious this year. He resolved not to give the Potions Master any further reason to take points from Gryffindor because of him. Accordingly, when the time came to prepare the potion that had been the focus of their summer assignments and there was an uneven number, he did not complain when he was made part of a group of three with Millicent Bulstrode and another Slytherin girl that he didn’t know.

At the end of the period, Harry’s group had produced the potion correctly. Actually, although it was correct, it was only half done. The only pairs to get it right were Malfoy and Crabbe, and Hermione and Blaise Zabini. Since all of the potions were the same, he had to give House points to Gryffindor as well as Slytherin, but Hermione only got two points, while the Slytherins each received five. Harry shrugged mentally. At least Hermione had started to make up the points Snape had taken away from Ron at the beginning of the period.

Normally there would be Quidditch practise just after Potions ended, until dinner, but since it was the first day back, they merely had a meeting to confirm both that Ron would be Captain and that tryouts would be held the next Monday. The three players remaining from the previous year’s Cup-winning team (Harry, Ron, and Colin Creevey as Chaser) agreed to meet during their Thursday practice time for a bit of casual flying. That done, the three wandered back up to the Gryffindor common room. Harry pulled out his Charms text and begin skimming through the remainder of the week’s work. By dinnertime, Harry was confident that he could sail through the next several weeks without trouble, and Flitwick’s essays were rarely difficult. He would write the first one that evening, before the weight from other classes increased.

The next morning, after Transfiguration, Harry and Ron trooped outside towards Hagrid’s old hut, and Harry once more felt the pang of loss as the new professor emerged. Ron nudged Harry in the side. “He did work with Charlie, by the way. Said he was one of the ones that came and got some illegal cargo a few years back.”

Harry grinned. “Norbert. I’ll have to ask after him after class.”

Professor Cole chose that moment to call the class to order. “Welcome to Care of Magical Creatures. I’m Professor Cole, but feel free to call me Brian during class or in informal situations. As you have chosen to pursue N.E.W.T.s in this subject, the focus this year and next will be on creatures or beasts have earned a M.O.M., or Ministry of Magic, classification of four or five Xs. Any questions so far?”

Brian Cole had a commanding aura, and he wore the dragon hide outfits that Ron said were favoured by workers on dragon reserves. Accordingly, not even Malfoy dared to be out of line on the first day.

“Good, then,” he responded to the silence. “This year we will deal with those beasts earning a four X classification. For those that are readily available or easily procurable, we will have first hand experience. Next year will be devoted to studying the beasts with a five X classification. The only two of those we will study in a hands on way will be the dragon and the werewolf,” here Harry made a strangled sound in his throat, angry at hearing their former professor disparaged as a beast, “as the other beasts are far too dangerous for students to attempt to confront, such as the chimaera, acromantula, or basilisk.”

That was too much for both Harry and Ron, and they began laughing softly to themselves. A few of the others had small grins on their faces, knowing at the very least about Harry’s history with the basilisk back in their second year.

“Is something wrong, boys?” Cole’s face was suddenly stony.

“No,” Harry answered, sobering quickly. “It’s just, well, there’s a whole colony of acromantula in the Forbidden Forest, not too far in really, and they tried to eat Ron and me back in our second year, but we got out.” He paused and bit his lip. “Hagrid had raised the first one as a pet.”

The rest of the class laughed, even the Slytherins, although their laughter was slighter meaner in tone.

When they had calmed down, it was Seamus spoke up. “Not only that, but Harry killed a Basilisk second year.”

Harry shot a glare at the other Gryffindor. He hated when people brought up all the ‘wonderful’ things he had done.

Cole looked impressed. “You killed a basilisk?” he asked faintly.

“Yes,” Harry muttered, staring at his shoe like it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

The rest of the class, excepting those in his dormitory and Hermione, looked faintly surprised. Harry supposed they had never heard the full story of the Chamber of Secrets.

“I see,” the professor said faintly. “Could I talk to you after class?”

Harry nodded tightly, and the lesson continued onward without further interruption. At the end of class, Harry went forward to talk to the new professor. “Sorry we lost it there. It’s just kind of funny, seeing as many things as we have.” He paused. “How’s Norbert, by the way?”

The man grinned. “Right as rain. You were one of the ones that we met on the tower?”

Harry nodded. “Hermione and I. Hermione’s Ron girlfriend.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Charlie mentioned that the three of you were best friends. How does it work, the two of them dating? Don’t you ever feel left out?”

Harry stared at the man, a bit unnerved by his intrusive questions. “Of course not. We’re all best friends.”

Cole smiled. “Good, then. So this basilisk that you killed.”

Harry shifted his feet. “I just... did what I had to do. It was Petrifying students, and I was the only one who could hear it, so -”

“Wait. Could hear it? Oh, that’s right, I remember hearing something about you speaking Parseltongue.”

Harry cursed under his breath. “Um, yeah. I’m a Parselmouth.”

The professor’s eyes widened almost exaggeratedly. “That’s a rather unique gift.”

“Um-hmm,” Harry agreed. He straightened suddenly. “Not to be rude, but I’m running late for lunch. If you need to know about the basilisk, ask Dumbledore.” He felt suddenly uncomfortable, and shivered as he reached the sunlight after the shadows surrounding Hagrid’s hut. Harry wanted to think that Dumbledore wouldn’t hire someone unless he was safe, but then, Dumbledore had hired Quirrell and Lockhart, and not recognised the fake Mad-Eye Moody. Harry was still frowning when he sat down at the lunch table.

“Everything all right, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“What? Oh, yes. Just thinking.” He had resolved, on the short walk up to the castle, not to mention his fears and suspicions to his friends, aware that they would most likely call him paranoid. “Double Charms and then duelling club after break, right?”

Ron nodded. “I wonder who will sign up for the duelling club, since it’s not a required activity or anything.”

“I think most of the sixth and seventh years will be. I don’t know about the younger years.”

“I won’t,” Neville spoke up firmly. “I have other skills that can be used, but duelling is definitely not one of them. Besides,” and here he flushed slightly, “Professor Sprout said I could do some research with her during the time the duelling club meets.”

“That’s great, Neville,” Hermione said kindly, and the sentiment was repeated throughout the group.

The duelling club was being run jointly by Professors Figg and Snape, and the participants were immediately sorted out by year, although Harry knew from Dumbledore’s announcement that they would be by skill after the first meeting. The students were paired at random, and Harry found himself facing some of the less-skilled seventh years after three duels. Then the duels were stopped, their performances recorded. Harry sat down, drained a goblet of pumpkin juice, and absently wiped some sweat off his brow.

“Harry!” Ron had sat down beside him. “That was amazing!”

“What?” Harry asked wearily.

“You won all of your duels! Even against seventh years.” He paused, and when he got no response, he shrugged. “C’mon, it’s time for dinner.”

Harry staggered to his feet, walking wearily for the door. Professor Figg’s voice called cheerfully after the departing students. “The list of practice partners will be announced at the next meeting, which is on Thursday!”

After a few days, Harry had quickly decided on a routine for Hogwarts as well. He continued to get up early to run, followed by reading, studying, or planning, depending on what was necessary that day. He did homework in the evenings, and he continued to read in his advanced Charms and Defence texts occassionally.

Thursday came all too quickly. That evening, Harry had a meeting with the other coaches of the junior Quidditch teams, but first he had another meeting of duelling club. Harry was a bit worried about who he would be paired with in duelling club. When he checked the list at the beginning of the meeting, his worst fears were realised. They were assigned pairs, and each pair had another pair to work with as well. Harry’s partner was Draco Malfoy, and their corresponding pair was two seventh years, a Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw. Harry groaned and moved away from the crush of people examining the list. He found himself greeted rather enthusiastically by the two seventh years. He merely smiled briefly and sat down to wait for Malfoy. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Potter,” came the familiar drawl.

“Malfoy,” Harry responded, his tone nearly bored. “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

Malfoy shrugged indifferently. “As you wish.”

Harry had to admit that he and Malfoy were very well matched. They practiced with blocking, shielding, and throwing for the first hour, then faced off in a proper duel three times. Harry won one, then Malfoy won another before starting their third and final duel of the day.

Harry cast a simple tickling charm to begin the duel, and Draco quickly countered with a well-placed tickling charm of his own. The duel continued in much such a manner, their spells evenly matched, both boys dodging and shielding themselves, occassionally taking the full brunt of a well-aimed hex, but always continuing to fight. They were forced to declare the duel a draw when Professor Snape commanded all duels to halt.

“Now, you will practise duelling with your partner. You and your primary partner will face off against your corresponding pair.”

Harry and Malfoy, for all their prowess individually, were absolutely horrible when they were supposed to work together. There was absolutely no trust, nor any sense of working together, and it was easy for the two girls to exploit that, each boy barely refraining from turning on the other instead of their opponents. Just five minutes after beginning the duel, both Harry and Draco found themselves without wands, and conceded. They were free to go after that, and Harry jogged back to Gryffindor Tower to change his shirt before heading back downstairs for his meeting. He was chagrined but somehow not surprised to find Malfoy there as well.

“Come in, come in,” Professor McGonagall urged before the two could say a word to one another, and Harry nodded in greeting to each of the participants from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

“I want to thank each of you for volunteering to head up this project. Now, for the juniors, we will be using training Bludgers, but other than that, all games will proceed exactly like the regular Quidditch Cup games.”

Harry wrinkled his forehead. “Professor, what’re training Bludgers?” He saw the question echoed on the Hufflepuff’s face, but the Ravenclaw looked bored, and Malfoy, of course, was snickering.

“Restrain yourself, Mr. Malfoy,” Professor McGonagall said mildly. She turned to Harry, her voice softening slightly even as it took on a lecturing tone. “A training Bludger, Mr. Potter, is a Bludger that has been specially modified not to hit above the neck.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” Harry nodded. Parents would hardly be happy if their eleven-year-old got a concussion from a Bludger.

“Now, I suggest each of you post a sign-up sheet to gauge interest. You may choose up to fourteen players for your teams. Mr. Malfoy, your team will have practise from 7:30 until 9:30 on Monday evenings, along with yours, Ms. Bones. Mr. Potter, Gryffindor juniors have the pitch at the same time on Wednesdays, but you will be sharing with Ravenclaw.” The four students nodded, and rose at her dismissal.

“We’re going to cream the little Mudbloods on the pitch, Potter,” Malfoy whispered cruelly as they stepped outside the room.

Harry glared, fists clenched. “At least we don’t have to pay people to play for us,” he said sweetly. “After all, with Slytherin, it’s not the size of your talent, it’s the size of your wallet. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be on the team, would you, Malfoy?” Malfoy shook in silent rage and stalked off, Harry smiling slightly to himself.