Harry Potter and the Chains that Bind

Chapter 5 - Classes Begin

When he awoke the next day, Harry was slightly dismayed to discover several choice words burned into the top of his wardrobe in tiny letters. It was odd, as far as practical jokes in Hogwarts went, and he couldn't imagine anyone actually wasting the time and risking getting caught. He pondered it while he got dressed. It was going to be a busy day; the house team had to meet for a bit in the afternoon, and Ginny had made it clear she wanted everyone there. She'd been appointed captain because Katie Bell was more interested in playing and her N.E.W.T.s, even though Harry thought that she was the most talented of the three long-time Gryffindor chasers and could easily go on to a professional career, and Harry was all to happy to agree with Ron - he wouldn't have the time to captain the team either. Harry would never give up playing Quidditch, but he was just as happy to be the Seeker and not have to schedule, arrange, and administer everything. The first day of classes was always a rough one, and they were only going to get harder from here on out. While looking at his schedule, it dawned on him that, saving Muggle Studies, none of his classes this year were those he could skive off; he'd regret missing any class time. With History out of the way, and Divination and Astronomy gone, he'd have more time to concentrate on the classes that really seemed to matter to him, and that was just as well, since he felt he'd need it. He was happy that Quidditch was again available to him, because even though he spent a good deal of time on it, it was something that allowed him to unwind. Anyway, he'd spent more time thinking about it after he'd been kicked out, so it would actually save him time to be back on the team.

The first class of the day was Transfiguration. Harry discovered that since classes beyond the fifth year were offered but not required, they could include students from other houses. Before, they had classes only with other Gryffindors and maybe one other house, whereas now they now found themselves among students from two or even all three other Houses. People like Padma Patil, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie Macmillan, Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy shared class time with them. Professor McGonagall assured them that this meant they would not be held back for the sake of those less capable. At that revelation, Connor turned slightly white. He was sitting across the aisle from Harry. Draco looked to be pointedly ignoring everyone but the other Slytherins, which didn't mean he wasn't plotting something. There was a fair bit of speculation over whether Draco would even return, after his father had been caught and arrested following the battle at the Ministry. No mention had been made of that so far, but Harry knew it was the sort of thing that was unforgivable to the pale and thoroughly evil Slytherin.

Professor McGonagall didn't waste any time with first day fluff, choosing instead to give them a list of some of the magic they would have to accomplish this year. Towards the end of the list was "Total Self-Transfiguration". Ron elbowed Harry when he saw it, and Harry knew he was worrying over his ability to do it.

"You've got nothing to worry about," Harry said. "Ever since you got your new wand, your magic has been loads better! You're still stuck in second year here, mate!"

"We'll see about that," Ron said, looking doubtfully at his wand, "I'll end up bounced out like Neville." Neville had chosen to forgo Transfiguration, although Harry thought he might have been able to do it if he had his new wand, and a bit more confidence.

Potions wasn't until the next day, so the next subject they had together was Charms. It was one of the larger classes, in part because it was easier to get into, but also because the vast majority of witches and wizards had affinities for charms. Not only were they incredibly useful, but charms made up the larger number of spells they learned. Their class was filled with Gryffindors and Ravenclaws: Ron, Hermione, Neville, Seamus, Lavender, Parvati, Dean, and Connor were all nearby.

Professor Flitwick seemed quite enthused to be going into some of the less mundane material. He outlined the year in advance, and explained that they would be diversifying partially in some of the charms they chose to learn, based on the other classes they were taking.

"Remember," the tiny instructor said, "even in other disciplines, your charms will be of utmost importance. People think they are a little matter...just like me! Consider that charms do everything from cushioning our bottoms on our broomsticks to driving off darkest evil, and everything in between! I urge you not to take them lightly!" He then went on to list many of the spells they'd already learned elsewhere; and Harry was quite surprised to discover how many he'd picked up outside this class. Two things occurred to him: first, he had more talent than he had previously realized. Even though he'd received an "O" on his Charms O.W.L., he'd never realized how successful he'd been in the area; in Defense, alone, he'd pulled off more charms than he'd ever even stopped to consider-- many of them far beyond most wizards his age. Second, he would definitely have to pay more attention to charms, because as he thought about it, most of the spells he'd read about in his free-time research of the Dark Arts were charms, as well. It certainly gave him more respect for Professor Flitwick.

Hermione noticed the in-depth notes he was taking with a bit of shock, and mentioned them after class.

"Is something wrong?"

"Wrong? What do you mean?"

"You're taking notes!"

"Is something wrong with that?"

"No!" she exclaimed, "but you've never taken any like that before, unless it's exam week!"

"I just never realized how many charms I've used, that's all. I figure I ought to start paying attention sometime."

"Not me," Ron said with a grin. "Now I have two great sets of notes to study. I could skive off every class from now to Christmas and still get good marks, if you two keep writing books like that."

"Just try it!" Hermione threatened, but with a radiant smile.

The next subject Harry had was Temporalism. The only other Gryffindors in the class were Hermione and Ron, and the rest were students from other houses. Cho was even more beautiful than last year, and she regarded Harry with a kind of cool indifference. He didn't really like it, but then part of him also didn't care, and part of him was gratified. It was too confusing to wonder what he was to her; he was almost happier knowing he was nothing. Hermione glared at her, and even Ron felt the tension in the air.

Professor Walken was impressive up close. His wavy black hair curled at the tips and just brushed his shoulders. His eyes were a faded blue, and it turned out Harry was correct in saying he didn't look a day over twenty. In fact, the professor hardly looked older than a seventh-year student. His voice was smooth and soft, and he had a serene air about him that suggested one at peace with the world and his place in it.

"Time," he began, "is an ocean. Just as you move forward, backward, sideways in an ocean, so you move forward, backward, and sideways through time." He stepped through the room as he spoke, gazing at them as he passed.

"Moving through time is, of course, more difficult than moving through the ocean. Some of you may be here for power," Professor Walken passed Theodore Nott, a quiet Slytherin, without looking down. "Some of you may be here for adventure," his timing was impeccable, and he uttered this as he passed Ron and Harry. He continued winding his way through the classroom without pause. "And then some of you may crave knowledge; or you might be here because you are dedicated to becoming all you can," this came as he passed Padma Patil and Cho from Ravenclaw, and Ernie Macmillan and Susan Bones from Hufflepuff.

"And if that is how you feel, you would all be correct. Time magic is ferociously powerful. It requires a clever mind. It is only for those with great restraint, those who are responsible and considerate not only of others but also time and causality. And it is not for the weak; only the brave will master it. In my assessment, you are some of the most well-rounded students in the school. You may exemplify your respective houses, of that I have no doubt; but I'm willing to wager that the Sorting Hat had a good deal of difficulty placing most of you. In fact, I'm counting on it.

"Before we begin, however, I would like to clear a few things up. Temporalism is hard. I mean it; it's very, very difficult. There are quite a few spells that fall in the school of Time Magic, but we will learn only a handful. They require precision, power, dedication, and drive. Some of you may be lacking. This may not be through any fault of your own. Should you discover that you do not have the ability to use this magic, I shall not remove you from our class this year. Temporalism is about more than the magic; it encompasses an entire school of thought. Any questions? No? Well then..."

Professor Walken went on for the entire class period, and by the time Harry, Ron, and Hermione left they all felt somewhat shocked.

"He wasn't kidding," Ron complained, "I understood about half of what he said. I wonder if they've gotten me in the wrong class." Harry could only nod numbly. Hermione summed up what he felt.

"I believe this class could be a proper challenge."

"Excuse me," someone mumbled. A thin figure in black slipped by them.

"Excuse me? I though Nott was a Slytherin." Ron said, watching him stalk away.

"So?" Hermione asked. "They're ambitious...not mouthy. They can't all be like Malfoy. Anyway, Nott's a loner."

"And it's a good thing, too," Ernie Macmillan said. "Malfoy's been bragging up and down to anyone who'll listen about how he's going to hit you with the nastiest curses he knows."

"Let him try it," Ron announced, "maybe this time he won't be stupid enough to do it in front of the D.A."

"I wouldn't count on it," Ernie laughed. "Any common sense he had went along with his old man when they caught him in a hood. Maybe he's got enough restraint to plan things out right, but I wouldn't count on it."

"Plan things right?" Hermione mused. "I suppose those are the right words but...well, it's not a very pleasant thought, is it?"

"I guess we'll just have to hope he's rasher than we think," Harry said.

Ernie nodded and added "speaking of evil wizards, are there plans to resume the D.A.?"

"Certainly," Harry said. This was the first time he'd properly acknowledged that he'd continue them, and Hermione smiled in spite of her very busy schedule. "Only this time, they're legal, so I expect we'll have loads of people."

"That, or no one will come with that mad toad sacked." Ernie said, and then quickly added, "but we'll keep coming. It's just...well...it was a bit more of a thrill when it was secret, you know?"

"There's no reason to run it any differently," Hermione said. "I can whip up some more galleons for anyone who wants to join, and we could even use the same protective contracts!"

"Yeah," Cho said from behind them. "That's a great idea. Why don't you disfigure even more people!"

"Oh, I will," Hermione spat back. "In fact, I could swell up the next one's tongue. That way, when she has a big, fat mouth, maybe I could fill it for her." Ron chuckled under his breath, and Cho huffed as she rushed away. Padma Patil smiled and shrugged as she followed, as if to apologize for Cho Chang's actions. She didn't need to apologize to Harry. As far as he was concerned, Cho's problems were her own. He wouldn't even have a problem with her if she hadn't insisted on trying to justify her friend's betrayal of the D.A.

Just outside of the Gryffindor Commons, they met Neville and Connor, who were on their way the greenhouses for Herbology, along with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who were on their way to Muggle Studies. Neville seemed a bit hurt that not many people wanted to be in Herbology. It was the one class he genuinely enjoyed, though he'd been trying desperately to get Professor Snape to allow him into Potions. Harry didn't know why, since all Snape had ever done was make Neville feel inadequate, but Neville certainly seemed intent at it. They exchanged their hurried greetings, and Harry mused it was one of the first times he wouldn't be with his usual friends in a class. Harry had never taken Muggle Studies, but Professor McGonagall convinced him he would get valuable perspective as to how wizards saw the muggle world, and he shouldn't have to study to keep pace. When he asked if that would hurt his chances of becoming an Auror, she replied as long as he covered the requirements well, by the time the Ministry was likely to be looking him over, he should have plenty of qualifications.

That made Harry a bit nervous.

Regardless, he found himself in Muggle Studies with Parvati, Lavender, Cho Chang, Marietta Edgecombe, and a host of other people he'd run into, but didn't really know. He naturally sat next to the only other Gryffindors in the room; a vacant seat by Parvati Patil. Marietta's face looked remarkably normal, and when Harry studied it hard he couldn't see where she'd used any cosmetics. He felt an elbow in the side, and he glanced directly into the green eyes of Parvati. She whispered into his ear.

"You've had your eyes glued on her," she flicked her eyes at Marietta, "and all Cho has done is scowl at you! Really made her mad, didn't you?"

"It's not my fault her friend's a rat."

"No," Parvati shook her head. "I don't suppose it is. She looks good now, though, hey?" Harry looked at her again. Marietta was, he noticed, quite pretty. That still didn't change what she'd done to Harry and the rest of the DA.

"She looks like a fink to me."

Parvati laughed aloud, drawing even more glares from Cho and an admonition from the Professor. The class ended up being exactly what Harry had guessed it would be; half slacking and half trying to keep up with the wizarding world's twisted sense of muggle reality. He didn't believe he'd have too much difficulty in dealing with it, and was happy that he'd have at least one class in which he could give less than his best and still perform. He felt he would need the time. It was odd to be in a class without Ron and Hermione, and even more so when Parvati and Lavender both mentioned that he could help them out. Harry wasn't used to being an authority on anything other than Defense.

Later, he found Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Connor waiting for him when he returned to the Gryffindor common room. Ron was slumped on a lounge next to Hermione, who was trying to convince him that Herbology wouldn't really be that bad. Neville and Connor sat at one of the tables, looking at a small, white plant that seemed to tilt its leaves toward the late afternoon sunlight, which came streaming in through the large windows. They'd hit it off well, and were animated in their discussion. Before Harry could greet any of his friends, Parvati pulled him aside.

"Do you know Connor well?"

"Not really," Harry said. "I've talked to him a bit, but I don't really know much about him."

"He's dead sexy," Lavender said, looking at the tall American with half-closed eyes. "Could he be the one, you know, in the thing?"

"Ah, I don't think so." Seeing the look on Lavender's face, Harry quickly added "he's a year older than Neville and I. He started school late, I guess."

"Are you sure," Parvati asked, "that you can't tell us any of the prophecy?"

"Quite," Harry said.

"Not even a little?"

"Not unt-"

"I know," Lavender interrupted, "not until you're sure I'm the one." She looked at Parvati, who was rolling her eyes. "Or her...or us." They slipped away with parting glances at both Harry and Connor. Harry smiled weakly and sat on the arm of the sofa, looking down at Ron and Hermione. It took them a few moments to realize that he was even there, and Harry felt a sinking sensation in his stomach: Ron and Hermione were flirting.

At first Harry wanted to shout at them, but then he remembered the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He, Ron, and Hermione had all come to a point where none of them wanted to be around each other because things were so awkward. Even though the reasons were a bit different then (at least in the case of he and Ron), he still remembered how much he hated to be without his best friends. No, Harry felt he'd learn to cope with this in some other way. With a start, he realized they'd both stopped talking and were staring at him.

"Are you okay, mate?" Ron asked, looking genuinely concerned.

"What? Oh, yeah. Just thinking, that's all...first day and all."

"Right...right. Well, we have a prefect meeting tonight, and Ginny wanted me to tell you that we have to meet the day after tomorrow to choose new chasers."

"Is she going to switch over to Chaser willingly then?"

"Does she have a choice?" Ron smirked. "She likes it better than Seeker anyway. I don't think she ever really wanted to be Seeker."

"And our Beaters?" Harry asked. Ron shrugged.

"The Creeveys promised her they'd been working all summer, so we'll see how that goes. If we find better ones, I suppose we'll have to take them, right?"

"Well, I'm not the captain. It's up to Ginny."

"I'm glad she decided to do it. Remind me to buy her something nice sometime for taking that load off our hands. Maybe I won't turn Dean's hair into snakes next time I see him pawing her up." Ron nearly suppressed the shudder of revulsion that swept over his face, and Hermione giggled, which astounded Harry. Out of all the years he'd know Hermione, he'd almost never heard her giggle.

"How was Herbology?"

"Dreadful," Ron said.

"Fantastic!" Neville shouted, from next to Connor and the sun-loving plant on the table.

"Ron's overreacting," Hermione said, showing traces of the know-it-all they'd first met on the Hogwarts Express. "It's not nearly that bad. And why aren't you in it?"

"McGonagall feels that I may be better off with some free time for all the things I have to do this year."

"Speaking of which," Hermione said, "we should arrange our first D.A. meeting. Would you like me to change the galleons?"

"Sure," Harry said. "Maybe Saturday or Sunday night would be best, or sometime next weekend. Professor Dumbledore wants me to continue my...er...other lessons too. I don't know when those are going to start, but sometime soon, I'd guess."

"That's very important, Harry," Hermione lectured, "don't skive it off."

"I won't."

"D'ya have to do it with Snape again?" Ron asked, wrinkling his nose.

"That's what Dumbledore wants," Harry replied. He hadn't yet decided whether to bend to the headmaster's request or demand that Professor Dumbledore teach him. Of course, he knew that ultimately he'd do what Dumbledore told him, but he couldn't help feeling that the headmaster owed him something.

They talked about their classes for the next several hours until Hermione suppressed a yawn and Harry noticed with a start that if he didn't get to sleep he'd have a rough time making it to his classes tomorrow. With Potions first thing, he didn't think that would be a great idea.

He awoke the next morning to discover even more words burned into his bureau. Someone had placed his stack of chocolate frog cards over it to conceal it, and Harry wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't bumped them. What bothered him most was the thought it had to be someone in his dormitory, one of the people he trusted implicitly. The only one Harry didn't know well was Connor, and Connor hadn't been in their room the first night, when the first words had appeared. Seamus and Harry had their differences at times, but he didn't think Seamus was the type to pull a silly prank like this, he was much too blunt. Besides, they'd been getting along well lately.

Tuesdays and Thursdays were light days for Harry; he had only two classes, though they were both double-length. His first subject of the day was Potions, which was a disparagingly small class. He, Hermione, Parvati, and Connor were the only Gryffindor students, and no other house had more than five people present. Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were there, as well as Theodore Nott, who Harry recognized from his Temporalism class. Nott sat near the other Slytherins, but didn't seem to be paying much attention to them. Snape looked to be in a particularly foul mood, and he told them right away that he would tolerate no failures in his class, and that any student who failed more than three potions would be immediately removed. Harry inwardly sighed. He knew that he could do potions; his O.W.L.s had proven that, but Snape always made him particularly nervous. The Potions Master was also probably quite upset at even having Harry in his class, and would doubtless be looking for any excuse he could find to bounce him. Hermione was unusually quiet, and took even more detailed notes than she had in the past. Harry did, as well. His motivation was much higher than it had ever been, in part because of the prophecy, and also because he knew the Professor McGonagall must have had to pull strings to get him into this class. He also noticed the casual way that grown-up wizards performed spells that he had never even imagined. He felt that he was well behind in his magical ability, either because he'd been raised a muggle and hadn't learned to think in terms of magic, or possibly because he simply hadn't been achieving in school.

He thought it likely that he'd just been underperforming; thinking of magic as a novel ability he'd never really have to rely on in the long run. Hermione, after all, had also grown up as a muggle, but she definitely thought as a witch. It had dawned on Harry that if he didn't start understanding how magic fit into his life, he'd never be more than a magic-using muggle. That wasn't, in his mind, conducive with his long-term survival; not when he was responsible for defeating one of the most powerful and learned wizards to ever live.

In the end, he never really reasoned out what it was, but he did come to the conclusion that more studying was definitely in order. He'd already taken more notes in one day than he had in a week of any other year. Today, Snape seemed intent on frightening them so badly that they'd quit his class, rather than being a bother. As Harry looked over his notes, he saw that a good portion of them consisted of warnings over how difficult this year would be and the dire fate awaiting them, should they fail. He looked at the list of potions they'd be making. None of them were close to what they'd been doing so far. Hermione was certainly going to be helping him here. Harry looked to Conner, who was also taking notes fit to write a book. His writing was neat and cramped, and Harry noticed it was in different colors. As he watched, Connor tapped his quill with his thumb, changing the color of the writing from black to a deep blue. There were spots of green and red on his parchment as well. Harry figured that Potions probably would be a very important class for a wizard with Connor's self-proclaimed lack of magical ability.

As they rose to leave, Snape called out to Harry.

"Potter, a word. We need to discuss your remedial potions lessons." Hermione and Connor paused, and he whispered to them to wait for him outside. Malfoy smirked as he pushed by Harry, but Harry refused to rise to the bait.

"Professor Dumbledore has informed me that he wishes for us to continue your...lessons." Snape looked around, certain that even in the empty classroom they were being overheard. "Obviously, I would have nothing further to do with you, if at all possible, but the matter is out of my hands. You are to meet with him tomorrow after your last class - which is?"

"Muggle Studies," Harry provided.

"Indeed." Snape scowled even more, and Harry wondered why it wasn't permanently stuck that way. "You will meet with him after your Muggle Studies class to discuss the matter. Did you at least purchase the book as I requested?"

"Yes," Harry answered, opening his pack.

"Not here, dolt!" Professor Snape hissed. "There is a reason we are doing this in private. Keep the book out of sight until we meet. I don't suppose you've even looked at it yet?"

"I've read the first chapter," Harry said. He wanted to be proud, but he knew with Snape, he could have read the whole book and it wouldn't have mattered. Nothing would ever be good enough.

"Is that so? Well, Potter, perhaps you're turning over a new leaf. We'll see what you've missed when you come in for your lesson. I will not waste my time this year, headmaster or no."

Harry turned to go and Snape stopped him with one last barb.

"Another thing, Mister Potter; you had better approach the entire year as you did today, that is, with your quill moving and your mouth shut. Professor McGonagall got you into this class, and I shall not hesitate to toss you out of it, should you refuse to perform. Now, get out of my dungeon."

Harry left with both the weight of his lessons and Snape bearing down on him. He would approach it with the same work ethic that had overtaken everything else; if Snape wanted to throw him out, well, there was nothing he could do about it, was there? As he stepped from the classroom, Harry saw a group of students about halfway down the hall. He recognized Crabbe, Goyle, Connor, Malfoy, and Hermione. It was obvious, even from this far away that an altercation was brewing.

"Potter. Just the scum I wanted to see in the hallway, all alone."

"I'm not alone, Malfoy; or did your eyes go along with your common sense?"

"Oh, I don't count mudbloods and Americans. They aren't wizarding families so much as they are, what, Granger? Broods? Oh, don't look so disgusted! Nothing I could say would be as vulgar as your upbringing!" Malfoy turned on Harry. "You and I have some things to discuss, and I think you're coming with me so we can...work them out." Crabbe and Goyle moved forward threateningly, but Harry stood his ground.

"I don't think we have anything to talk about, Malfoy, and I'll thank you to never speak to me again. Ever." Draco stepped forward until he was mere inches away from Harry.

"Make this easy on yourself Potter. I'm not totally without mercy; it doesn't have to hurt at all." Harry was momentarily shocked at how like Voldemort Malfoy sounded. At this point, Connor spoke.

"Actually, I think it would be best if it hurt tremendously. What do you boys think?" Crabbe and Goyle realized he was talking to them when he placed his hands on their shoulders. They looked at each other uncertainly until, with the finesse of a surgeon, Connor slid his hands up their necks and bashed their heads together. He caught them both by the necks of their robes and dragged them quickly around the corner. Suddenly Malfoy didn't look so good; in fact, he blanched even more, which Harry wouldn't have thought possible. The Slytherin reached belatedly for his wand, but Hermione beat him easily.

"Expelliarmus!" Malfoy's wand flew from his fingers and bounced off the wall. Hermione snagged it on the bounce. Two things happened at once, then; Crabbe and Goyle returned from around the corner, and Snape stepped from his dungeon.

"Potter! Malfoy! What's going on here?"

"They attacked me!" Malfoy whined. "She took my wand, and he threatened me!" Malfoy looked around, presumably for Connor. When the tall American was nowhere in sight, Malfoy's eyes settled on Harry.

"Potter? What do you have to say for yourself?"

"He didn't do anything," Goyle said. Malfoy stared at his bodyguard, stunned.

"Yeah," Crabbe added, "We took Draco's wand. I threw it at the mudblood and she caught it."

"We were going to work them over," Goyle added. Draco Malfoy looked totally horrified, and Snape stared directly at Crabbe and Goyle, weighing their words carefully. Harry knew he was a bit of a Legilimens, but seriously doubted he'd need that to see if total idiots like Crabbe and Goyle were lying.

"Mudblood...indeed. Five points from Gryffindor. You are a prefect, Miss Granger, and you should have learned to avoid these confrontations by now."

"Five points! But..."

"Ten points, unless you want me to take more, which I assure you I gladly will. And Potter, I can not presume to guess what kind of breeding or upbringing has produced someone so thoroughly in congress with trouble-making." Harry felt his face blazing and was about to say exactly what he felt about Snape's breeding and upbringing, when he felt a small hand on the small of his back. With one touch, Hermione restored his better senses and with difficulty, he bit back his retort. Snape, perhaps expecting a reply, looked mildly disappointed. Instead of continuing on with his berating, he merely whispered "detention" in a cold hiss. Draco smirked and his goons continued to gaze blankly. They looked even dumber than usual. Snape turned on him with a flash of black and greasy hair.

"Wipe that stupid smile off your face, Mister Malfoy. One would hope you'd consider your current situation when pulling a stunt like this. Five points from Slytherin, for each of you. Now, when I open my eyes, I want all of you out of my sight."

Harry could hardly believe his ears; Snape taking points from Slytherin - that was a first. As they walked around the corner, they ran into Connor, who was leaning against the wall, twirling his wand. Malfoy turned the corner behind them and stopped dead in his tracks.

"You..."

"So, tell me again how the points work? You want to have more, right?" Connor was looking directly at Malfoy, and Crabbe and Goyle shied back behind the blond Slytherin. The internal struggle was evident in his face, but he wisely chose to push by the American, hissing as he passed.

"It's not over!"

In response, Conner raised his hand and flicked his fingers as if he was dismissing the Slytherin boys. Harry was trying as hard as he could not to laugh, but was obviously failing. Hermione was smiling broadly, and Crabbe and Goyle swung well away from Connor, Harry, and Hermione as they passed.

"You probably shouldn't have done that," Harry said, looking up into Connor's eyes.

"But I did."

"Well, I er...appreciate it."

"What did you do to Goyle and Crabbe?" Hermione asked.

"Was that who they were?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, as they continued down the hallway, on their way to Defense against the Dark Arts.

"Well, remember how I said I was good at a few charms?"

"You used a memory charm," Hermione chipped in, "and it was a nice one, too!"

"Thank you."

"Now Malfoy's really going to be itching for a fight," Harry added. He wasn't sure if that's what he wanted or not. One thing was certain; Malfoy would think twice about trusting Crabbe and Goyle again, and that would probably play in Harry's favor.

"Harry?" Connor asked as they ascended the moving stairs.

"Yes?"

"I uh, I don't want to step into something I shouldn't have. If you'd rather I not get involved..." He trailed off. It took Harry a moment to figure out his hesitation.

"Ha! You could throw Malfoy off the astronomy tower and I wouldn't care. We're Gryffindors, and we stick together. It was almost worth the detention."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

"At least this year you waited until the second day of class to get a detention." Hermione said, trying to grin. "You're getting better. Ron will be miffed; he'll hate us for not doing this when he was around."

"Like we had a choice!" Harry exclaimed, although he wished Ron could have been there as well.

As promised, Ron was quite upset he hadn't seen Crabbe and Goyle get theirs, and Malfoy lose points from Slytherin to none other than Snape. He wasn't too upset to laugh until his face matched his hair, however, and Harry thought he was in serious risk of having a stroke before he calmed down in time for class.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was as Harry remembered him; large, soft-spoken, and quietly intimidating. Harry had already read well into their book for this year, and he felt very comfortable during the lecture. With the reading he'd done over the summer, he was ready to start on some of the more specialized areas of defense. The students (they were all Gryffindors in this class) moaned when Professor Shacklebolt announced this year would be very heavily influenced by magical theory. He regained them by assuring them they would be learning new spells-- perhaps too many to even remember them all. Harry, who was working on his fifth book of notes this year, promised himself he wouldn't forget any.

They didn't learn any new spells the first day; instead Shacklebolt gave them lists of certain curses and categorized them as to their types, writing dates next to them.

"We'll be doing these spells at these times. I expect you to know what they are by these dates. The counter-curses and remedies we will discuss in class. If you haven't gotten a release signed, you will have to work with me to provide an alternative course of study when we get to some of the more dangerous ones."

Harry paused his note-taking in mid-sentence. He'd never seen or heard of a release for this year. Not only did he not have one signed; there was virtually no chance of getting it done now. Why hadn't he ever seen the release, and what would he do without it? He made a note to ask Dumbledore during their meeting tomorrow - he didn't feel it was fair to be excluded from learning how to defend himself simply because the Dursleys were the worst sort of people to ever walk the earth. There had to be something he could do. Ron noticed the look on his face as they were leaving.

"Something wrong, mate?"

"Well..." Harry started, "did you get a consent form for Defense?"

"For Defense? No. We just got one for everything at once."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we just got the one form, and it's supposed to cover everything," Ron began to list things off on his fingers, "Defense, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, er..." he saw the look on Harry's face and paused, "er...Temporalism. Wait a minute. Harry, are you telling me you didn't get a form? Well, you should have said something!"

"I didn't even know they were sent out, or I would have. Son of a..."

"Language, Harry," Hermione chided. "They have to let you try to get one signed. It's not like they can just keep you out of half our classes."

"I sure hope you're right," Harry said, "or I'm hung out to dry. Look at all these counter-curses we're going to have to learn, and that's just in Defense. If I don't get that release, I'm done !"

"I could probably sign your uncle's name, if we could get a hold of one, or we could get Dean to..." Ron mused.

"Ronald!" Hermione exclaimed, stopping so fast that Seamus and Dean nearly ran into her from behind. "Have you forgotten you're a Prefect? You can't just go around offering to commit forgery! Honestly!"

"Well, Harry's my friend! I'm not going to leave him high and dry. Besides, it's more important he learn all that anyway...don't tell me you'd keep him out of classes, release or not!" Ron knew Hermione was torn between her desire to follow the rules and her love of learning.

"I've got a meeting with Dumbledore tomorrow," Harry said. "Maybe he'll know something I don't."

"And if not," Hermione said, "I'm sure we could do the curses as part of the D.A. - I don't think they can stop clubs from practicing spells."

"Not if they don't know we're doing it!" Ron quipped. That was obviously what Hermione intended, but hearing it spoken aloud caused her to blush and look again at her feet; which Ron and Harry noticed she did whenever she felt embarrassed or conflicted.

Almost everyone else had classes after Defense, but Harry didn't, owing to his light schedule. Later in the year he'd need that time, but on only the second day of class, he found himself reading his potions book and taking notes in the margins. He figured since he'd paid for the book, there was no reason he couldn't write whatever he wanted in it, though it had never occurred to him in the past. Things were starting to make a bit more sense after he'd reread his old Potions texts this summer.

I'm turning into Hermione, Harry thought, Ron will never forgive me. Then he reconsidered...Ron probably would forgive him, as long as he shared his notes.

Harry Potter and the Chains that Bind

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