The Fountain of Oblivion

Chapter 7 Elixirs and Enchantments

The next day, Harry was woken by the bright sun piercing through the Gryffindor tower curtains early in the morning. Part of him still felt sore and tired, but the sight of Hogwarts bathed in the September light made him jump out of his bed. His room-mates were still sleeping, including Ron, who was muttering in his sleep. Harry leaned in his direction, trying to understand what he was saying, but could not recognise a word of his gibberish. He dressed in silence and went down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Apart from some first-years whose eyes were lit with excitement, almost no-one was down there. The long house tables were virtually empty. Harry sat at the Gryffindor table and started to eat his breakfast, his mind on anything except what was going on around him. He was therefore caught by surprise when he realised a group of five younger students were patiently waiting behind him, eyeing him eagerly.

''You are Harry Potter, aren't you?'' the bolder one said when Harry had turned his head towards him.

''Er ... Yes, I am, why?'' Harry said, somewhat defiantly.

''We were wondering because Professor McGonagall told us you were going to lead an amazing group. She said you were going to teach us some hexes,curses, and even stuff we wouldn't learn before fourth year, at least!''

''Oh, you want to join the D.A.?'' Harry said, trying not to show he felt flattered by McGonagall's comment. The blank looks the students sent him indicated clearly they had no clue what he was talking about. ''That's the name of the club,'' he added. ''Well, I'm not sure when the first meeting will take place, but I'll post a sign soon, I promise.''

The boy who had spoken opened his mouth, then closed it again, took a deep breath and said:''So can we join? Please ...''

Harry laughed. ''Of course you can. See you there then,'' and at these words, the intimated group ran away, chatting loudly about their encounter ''with Harry Potter! The real one, mind you.''

''Looking for friends, Potter?'' the heinous voice of Draco Malfoy said. He was walking to the Slytherin table, accompanied by his usual gang. Harry saw that Crabbe and Goyle had gotten taller and wider during the summer, but he didn't felt threatened by them anymore. He knew he could knock them both out with a stunning spell in an eye-blink. ''Well, I understand,'' Malfoy said, ''I would be doing the same thing if I were in your shoes. Poor, poor Potter's friends.''

''What are you talking about, Malfoy?'' said Harry. Draco's taunting and provocations were common, but they usually made sense. Draco did not answer, but burst into a mad, mechanical-sounding laugh, and went to his table without looking at Harry anymore.

''I didn't it think possible that his mind would be even more twisted this year, but there you go,'' Hermione said, sitting next to Harry ''What did he say?''

''I didn't get it,'' Harry said truthfully. ''Something about my friends. I think he was making fun of the fact that second or third years were asking me about the D.A.''

''They were? But that's great Harry, it means that the entire school takes Voldemort seriously now.''

''Yeah, but I don't know how I'm going to teach fifty students at the same time, and I won't have as much time as last year, now that I have been made Quidditch captain,'' Harry said. He realized that he was slightly disappointed when Hermione made no comment about his appointment as captain. The Great Hall was steadily getting more crowded and the familiar hum of students filled it. Despite the fact he wasn't paying too much attention, Harry couldn't help to notice that there was rather more animation than usual, even on a first day. For one thing, many people he only vaguely know waved to him of even exchanged a few words with him. It also seemed to him that there were more owls delivering letters than he would have expected: an almost uninterrupted flow of black owls were swarming the Hall.

''Look,'' said Hermione pointing to the copy of the Daily Prophet she had just received, ''Madam Bones has announced that they will try the Death Eaters.''

''You still reading the Prophet, Hermione?'' said Ron, joining his two friends. ''So what's our first lesson, ouch, Advance Transfiguration?''

''Can I have a look at the article please?'' asked Harry. He glanced at the headlines:
Harry skimmed through the articles about the trials, but was utterly disappointed. Most of it was just blind statements of faith in Dumbledore and harsh criticism about Fudge's way of handling the situation. Almost nothing was said about the evidence of the attack of the Ministry, and the only mention of Sirius was to remind the reader that ''Fudge's administration had failed to vote on amendment 'Sirius Black' in time.'' They have forgotten quite conveniently that six months ago, they were accusing Sirius of leading the escaped Death Eaters, Harry thought.

''Let's go now'' he said, and the three friends left to their first NEWT class.

A palpable tension could be felt, when the tall and upright figure of Professor McGonagall entered the Transfiguration class. Transfiguration class had always been interesting and sometimes even fun, but Professor McGonagall had always imposed very high standards, and that meant interminable essays, numerous exercises, and, worst of all, challenging exams. Professor McGonagall looked at the class for a few seconds, then started to speak.

''First of all, I would like to congratulate you all,'' she said and she broke in a genuine smile. ''Your presence here today means you have mastered Transfiguration for your OWLs, and you can be proud of it. Besides, you have been willing to keep on studying this field of magic, and for the interest you have shown towards my classes, I would like to thank you.''

The very idea of McGonagall thanking and congratulating her students was rare enough to induce a soft whisper among the students. Some, like Hermione, were smiling openly, while others, like Neville or Seamus Finnigan, were looking at each other, wondering if she really meant it.

''NEWT level Transfiguration is an incredibly rich subject, and I am sure you will be rewarded for the efforts you have made in your first five years, and for those that you are going to make in the next two. You will learn about advanced Switching Spells and Human transfiguration, you will learn how to conjure objects and how to banish them, you will master animal and object Transfiguration beyond anything you have seen until now. But I am not going to deceive you, this will require intense, serious, dedicated study. The basis for our future work is OWL-level spells, so it goes without saying that I expect all of you to know them perfectly. From that, we will move to higher and more difficult areas. This will mean that the times when all you had to do to get a good grasp of the material taught was going to class and doing you homework are over. Transfiguration is a most powerful and dangerous art, so constant training and daily practice are absolute requirements. But do not doubt yourselves, by exceeding expectations in your Transfiguration OWL, you have proven you were most capable wizards. Now is the time you are going to develop fully your talents. I hope that by the end of the year, you will all be able to do that.'' She made an intricate wand movement and two shots of light, one golden, the other red, zoomed through the class room. The first one hit an empty chair, which started expanding and twisting, until it was a beautifully ornamented throne. The other expanded in an armour-like statue that materialised in the air and went to sit inside the throne under the bewitched eyes of the class. For the second time since the beginning of the class, and probably the second time ever in a class, Professor McGonagall smiled. A collective cry of appraisal rumbled throughout the class.

''There, there," she said. "It is just a simple Modifying spell and a standard Human Conjuring enchantments,'' she intoned.

Professor McGonagall spent the following two hours explaining to them in detail the aims and the setting of the course and ended by given them two chapters of Changing to read for the next class.

''Looks cool, but I wonder if I should ask for a Time-Turner this year,'' said Ron, going out of the classroom. ''Two chapters to read on the very first day, and all she said about studying every day!''

''Don't worry, I've read them already, we can study together if you want to,'' said Hermione shyly, ''With you too, of course Harry,'' as though it were an after thought.

''Oh no, I should have guessed,'' grumbled Harry. ''Look who we'll have the pleasure of learning Defence against the Dark Arts with this year.'' Waiting in front of Snape's class, was a group of Slytherins was glaring at them. Among them, Harry recognised Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Milicent Bulstrode, the skinny boy he thought was called Nott and the one he had met on the Hogwarts express.

''You mean, they are going to learn the Dark Arts, and we are going to try to defend ourselves against them,'' said Ron gloomily. ''The only good thing is we seem to be done with Crabbe and Goyle laughing stupidly whenever Malfoy opens his mouth. I mean, I wouldn't expect those gorilla-like trolls to get any OWL; well, maybe one in Potions."

''I will be most delighted to hear about you opinion on the Potion OWL." The icy voice of Snape said while his bat-like form glided through the dungeon corridor, his jet-black cloak undulating with each of his steps. He stared at Ron with his fixed, mirthless gaze ''Maybe you think it is a disgrace of some sort to study or teach Potions, do you Mister Weasley?'' he said, then added in a patronising tone ''I would not sanction such behaviour usually, but you are a Prefect, I have been told, so your duty is to set the example. Twenty points from Gryffindor.''

Harry saw Ron just about to answer, but he stopped himself, despite the ringing laughter of Malfoy. Harry turned towards him and said ''We'll see who'll laugh after our first Quidditch match, Malfoy.'' Malfoy did not answer, but bore Harry's stare and looked back with the blood-shot eyes Harry had already noticed on King's Cross Platform. After one or two seconds, Pansy Parkinson took Malfoy by the arm and drew him inside. Just before entering the dark classroom, Draco took a bright blue bottle out of his robes and drank a sip from it. Then, he turned one last time to face Harry and Ron, and finally sat down.

''Mental,'' muttered Ron. The three of them sat together.

''Well,'' Snape started ''it is with much dismay that I have learnt this summer that I was to fill in the Defence against the Dark Arts this year.'' At these words, a twisted grin appeared on his yellowish face. ''Sadly, I have not been allowed to change the minimum grade required for this NEWT class, or else I am confident many of you would not be here at all,'' and he looked directly at Neville while saying this. ''From what I have gathered from looking at the grades most of you got on the ridiculously easy OWL exam you sat, I don't expect many of you to be able to follow what I consider an acceptable NEWT class. Still, I am willing to go so far as to test you before actually starting the class. Needless to say, I strongly encourage anyone not performing perfectly on my little test to leave this class while this is still possible.'' He eyed the class with a self-satisfied expression. ''So, whom of the Gryffindors here can tell me what counter-curse is used to break the Multistasis curse?''

Harry knew the answer of this question of course, after all he had spent most of last year studying Defence against the Dark Arts in advance, so he fully understood Snape's question: the Multistasis curse was not even treated in most sixth-year books. Harry chose not to raise his hand, hoping that Snape would not be able to resist trying to humiliate him by asking him personally, and then he would have given a perfect answer. He realised two hands had already shot in the air. The fact that Hermione had heard about so advanced curses did not surprise him too long, however, that Ron would know convinced him that he really had studied hard this summer. Sure, Ron did not look too sure of himself, but still, he was volunteering an answer. Snape looked infuriated, yet he kept on walking slowly in front of the class, whispering under his breath ''No-one? Oh, I see. Of course, I should have guessed the average level in Defence Against the Dark Arts could not be much higher than in Potions. Can maybe Mr. Longbottom tell me what is the wand movement required to cast a Throat-clenching hex then?''

Neville was pale and silent.

''Are you telling me you could not cast a Throat-clenching hex, even if your life depended on it, Longbottom?''

A tiny drop of sweat went down Neville's brow.

''This is worse than I would have thought, something I honestly did not deem possible. Now, can any Slytherin tell me what are the effects of the Corpus Manipulatis spell?''

That time again, Harry knew that the question was way above OWL level, yet Draco raised his hand slowly.

''Yes, Mr. Malfoy.'' Snape said delightfully.

''The Corpus Manipulatis spell gives full control of the body of the person hit, the spell caster can manoeuvre his victim like a puppet,'' Draco said in an overtly pedantic tone.

''Excellent,'' Snape growled, ''ten points to Slytherin. Any other know what is the incantation to fight a boggart?''

This time, a very audible groan came from the rank of the Gryffindors, fighting boggarts was a third-year level task, and it was clear that NEWT student would be able to do it. Indeed, a number of hands appeared among the Slytherins.

''Yes, Mrs. Parkinson?'' whispered Snape.

''The incantation is Riddikulus, sir,'' whined Pansy Parkinson with a disdainful look toward the Gryffindors.

''Very well, ten more points to Slytherin, and ten from Gryffindor for disturbing the class,'' Snape said in response to the loud rumble the Gryffindors made when they heard ten points awarded for such an easy question. Pansy raised her hand again and said:

''Sir, sorry to disturb, but would it be possible to switch classes, so that we do not have class with the Gryffindors anymore. I mean,'' she whimpered, ''we're all very eager to have real NEWTs, not the low-standard ones some here are obviously trying to take.'' She threw a disgusted look at Hermione and Dean. Harry had to throw his hands over Ron's mouth before the vociferous answer he yelled at Pansy came to Snape's ears, while Hermione held Ron's arm and whispered, ''Let it go." However, Harry saw that her lips were colourless and trembling. Talking slightly louder, but with his usual cold and sardonic voice, Severus Snape spoke again:

''Considering the behaviour of Potter and his supposed prefect friends, not to mention the abysmal level of half of this class, I must say that your suggestion is very appealing Mrs. Parkinson, alas it is not my power to change the schedule; so I am afraid to say that we will have to live with this burden till then end of the year, provided of course there are still Gryffindors able to follow the material we will be covering at that time.'' he said.

Harry was not sure what made him more furious: the blatant injustice of Snape blaming him while he had carefully remained perfectly calm during the whole class, the echoes of spiteful laughs and giggles coming from the Slytherins resonating in his boiling head, or the blood-shot, loathe-filled eyes of Snape, set directly at him, daring him to do or say anything.

''Now that the aims of this class are well understood to all, let us start today's lesson. We are going to review the Throat-clenching hex for some of the lower students here,'' Snape said, curling his lip in what could have been a smile and putting the emphasis on review.

When their Defence against the Dark Arts had finally come to an end, Harry, Ron and Hermione ran away from the class as fast as they could, disgruntled expressions on their faces.

''I wouldn't have believed he could be worse than in Potions, the useless, dirty, piece of snapskin,'' Ron exploded as soon as they were sure no-one could hear them ''And the worst thing is he's right, I can't do anything against him anymore, I'm a prefect. And a three-feet long essay! On the very first class?''

''You know, I think the essay is okay,'' Hermione reasoned. ''I mean, that way we get to learn, you two still like Defence against the Dark Arts, don't you?'' she asked, looking at the sullen faces of Harry and Ron when she had defended the essay.

''Course we do,'' said Harry. ''Only I am not sure I can bear to see the Malfoy's face for an entire year. How come is he still there anyway?'' he erupted ''His father is a convicted Death Eater and he still struts around Hogwarts just as if he was some kind of angel.''

''You can't say that Harry!'' Hermione cried, and to the boys surprise, she seemed genuinely shocked. ''Even if Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater, that does not make Draco a criminal.''

''Do you realise you are speaking about the person who are responsible for Sirius' death?'' Harry yelled back.

''I do.'' Hermione choked out, her eyes wet, and she turned away as fast as she could, running towards the Gryffindor tower. Harry immediately regretted what he had done, he knew perfectly well that Hermione cared for Sirius. Even though the very thought of Lucius Malfoy made his blood boil, he had to admit he had been unfair to Draco.

''I think I'm going to apologise to Hermione,'' Harry said after a while. ''I don't think I was very nice to her earlier. But speaking about essays, you've been working quite hard, as I can see. You knew the Multistasis curse.''

''That's quite actually strange,'' Ron answered in strangely thoughtful way, as if he reminiscing. ''Sometimes, I have ideas and memories, but I just can't place where they come from at all, like yesterday, with the whole return of Slytherin return business. I swear I haven't read it in Hogwarts, A History, I'd rather take extra-class with Snape that touch that book, mate. So I really don't see where I could have heard from it. Maybe I should talk to someone about that, I don't know.''

''You know what? You could come with me see Hermione. So, after I have apologised, you casually speak about that, and we are all set!'' The idea seemed absolutely brilliant to Harry, so he was quite taken aback by Ron's answer.

''No, mate. I don't think I will, I think I'll pass for...''

But what he would rather pass for Harry never knew because they had reached the Great Hall and they ran to have lunch, and he forgot to ask Ron again before going to see Hermione.

Harry had very much expected Hermione to come down to a belated lunch; so when he did not see her at all, he started to feel really guilty. So as soon as he had finished eating, he ran to the Gryffindor tower. She wasn't in the common room, and he knew boys were not allowed in the girl's dormitory, so he had no choice but to wait for her. After spending fifteen minutes walking mindlessly around, he realised Hermione had her Potion class right after lunch, and he thought it very likely that she had gone to the library before going there. Had he not waited stupidly there, he would have had a chance to find her there, but now it was too late and he would have to wait till tonight. Why couldn't he think sometimes, he asked himself angrily. ''The good thing is, now I have two hours of free time.'' Ron and he had spoken about doing a bit of Quidditch practice and discussing new tactics, so he went to his room to get his Firebolt.

The Gryffindor dorm was empty and silent, in strong contrast with the normal agitation of it. A cool and soft September breeze was passing through an half-open window, gently shuffling the curtains, and the room was bathed in a warm light. He opened the window more and took a deep breath. Nothing would be better than flying over the Hogwarts grounds in those conditions! He seized his broom with exhilaration and made for the door when a suddenly stronger wind swept through the dorm, tossing parchments in all directions. Harry sighed, closed the window again and started putting back everything in place.
He was eager to go out, so he did it as quickly as he could, and paid no attention when he put back a bright-blue parchment reading:

Feeling sick? Feeling ill?
Drink from the Fountain of Health
One sip from the Fountain of Health, and you'll recover from the worse illness in a second!
Order now, from the Fountain of Enchantment
4563 Wizard Spring, Hogsmeade

on Neville's desk.

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This document was translated from L^AT_EX by H^EV^EA.