Harry Potter and the Watcher's Council

Chapter 3: School Daze

"The first day back. It always gets me. I mean, it's incredible. One day the campus is completely bare. Empty. The next, there are children everywhere. Like locusts. Crawling around, mindlessly bent on feeding and mating. Destroying everything in sight in their relentless, pointless desire to exist." Principal Snyder, "When She Was Bad."

"How are we getting to King's Cross, then?" Harry asked one morning at an early breakfast a few weeks later. He, Ginny, and Ron had spent the day before packing madly, trying to find all their belongings and especially all of the books they'd borrowed from Hermione, who would be livid if they lost any of them. The day had finally come for them to return to Hogwarts, and Harry couldn't help but feel relieved at the thought of being back inside the castle which was more home to him than anywhere else.

Mrs. Weasley couldn't quite meet his eyes as she answered, "Flooing to Headquarters, then taking a Muggle taxi to the station."

Harry managed to catch Ginny's gaze across the table briefly, but she quickly bent her head to stare into her porridge He knew they were all trying to be careful not to mention Sirius, but when they arrived at Grimmauld Place they'd have a job of it keeping him from thinking about his godfather, whose house it had been. Harry didn't know how he felt about returning to Sirius's house; Sirius had hated it there, and Harry didn't like to associate the dank, strange place with his godfather--it had been Sirius's prison, not his home. Harry felt his stomach clench with anger at the thought. He just hoped they'd be in and out as quickly as possible.

Harry and Ron dragged the trunks down the stairs to the kitchen, while Ginny gathered their animals and searched frantically for Hermione's copy of Tricky Spells for Sticky Situations. When everyone was finally ready and gathered in front of the fireplace, Mrs. Weasley opened a small pouch filled with Floo powder. She gave each of them a hard stare, saying sternly, "Now there'll be no messing around this year, do you hear me?" Ron rolled his eyes and Ginny muttered a sulking, "Yes, mum." "I don't want anything happening to you three on the way to the station. That is why I've arranged for some members of the Order to escort you. Alastor and" she sighed heavily, her voice tinged with disapproval, "Mundungus will meet you at Headquarters. I'll rest easier when you're all safe at Hogwarts again."

Harry was surprised to find that Mrs. Weasley wouldn't be accompanying them to Grimmauld Place. "Aren't you coming with us?" he asked.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head sadly. "I'd love to see you off, dear, but I've got some important things to do today, and I just can't make it to the station."

Harry and Ron exchanged significant glances. "Is it for the Order?" Ron asked as Mrs. Weasley gave him a hug.

"Never you mind," she said gruffly, pulling Ginny into a hug as well.

"C'mon, mum!" Ginny said. "Is it something to do with Voldemort?"

Harry found himself being engulfed in a long hug from Mrs. Weasley. "Curiosity killed the cat, young lady!" she chided Ginny, practically shoving the girl into the fireplace. Harry handed her her trunk, and she clutched the wicker basket containing her kitten, which she'd decided to name Diana, after the Greek Goddess of the hunt, while Mrs. Weasley held out the pouch of powder to her daughter.

"Satisfaction brought it back!" Ginny exclaimed, taking a pinch of powder. In a flash of green fire she was gone, her face a mask of curiosity and frustration at being denied such juicy information.

"Have a good term, Harry," Mrs. Weasley told him as he stepped into the fire. Her eyes shone with a brief glint of worry, then he too had disappeared in flames. Harry could feel his trunk banging against his right side and Hedwig's cage smacking against his left as fireplaces whirred by him before he was finally deposited in an unceremonious and sooty heap in the mammoth stone fireplace in the kitchen of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Unfortunately his trunk sent him stumbling off balance as he appeared, sending him crashing into Ginny, who had only just stepped out of the fireplace as he arrived. They fell heavily onto the rough hewn stone floor of the kitchen, Ginny's elbow smacking into Harry's cheek as they landed in an ignominious pile of struggling limbs and tangled robes.

"Gerrof, Harry!" came Ginny's muffled voice as Harry struggled to pull his cloak free from beneath Ginny. It didn't help that his glasses had gone flying off his face sometime during the fall, and he couldn't see what he was doing.

"I'm trying to!" Harry yelled as Ginny shoved at him with quite a bit of strength for such a small person. "I can't see a sodding thing!"

He couldn't see anything, but he could certainly hear well enough to know that the kitchen was apparently full of people too busy laughing their heads off at him and Ginny to help them get untangled. With a frustrated growl Harry abandoned his robes and stood up unsteadily, accidentally stepping on Ginny as he did so, what part he couldn't be sure of, as he was still pretty much blind.

"Here you go, mate," Ron said, placing his glasses in his hand. Harry put them on, glaring at his best friend.

"You could've helped, you know!" he said angrily, glancing around the room to include both Moody and Mundungus Fletcher, who were both still chuckling a bit.

"It was more fun to watch you flail around," Ron said with a grin, helping Ginny up. Ron waved his arms around in the air, a pained expression on his face. "Oh, woe is me! Harry Potter has landed on me and I am all aflutter," he mocked in a high falsetto, doing a poor impression of Ginny. "I would remove myself, but my glasses have conveniently disappeared," he continued in the deepest voice he could manage, "and now I must simply roll around the floor with you. Oh, the pain of it all!"

Ginny glared at Ron and made a very rude gesture with her right hand. "Ow, Harry! Look what you did to my hand!" she exclaimed, holding up her left hand , which was rapidly turning several different shades of purple.

"Sorry about that," he muttered, feeling equal parts bad for having hurt her and embarrassed at Ron's joking mockery.

"Before you go apologizing, Harry, you should see what she did to your cheek!" Ron exclaimed, giving a low whistle as he examined the bruise that was forming on Harry.

"I guess we're even then, eh?" Harry asked, grinning, then wincing as he felt the pain on his cheek from where Ginny had smashed her elbow into it.

"Enough chit chat," Moody said impatiently. "We need to get you three to the station. We'll be taking a Muggle cab, so you three will want to be taking off those robes. Don't want to look suspicious."

They did as they were told, then left the house quietly, trying not to wake up the portrait of Sirius's mum, which tended to scream nasty things at people. The cab was waiting for them, and as Moody and Dung loaded the boot with their trunks, Harry watched Number 12 getting smaller and smaller, until he could no longer see it. Slipping inside the cab beside Ginny and Ron, he realized with a pang that he hadn't thought once of Sirius while he'd been in his godfather's childhood home.

**************

The journey from Platform 9 ¾ began rather uneventfully as Harry and Ginny searched for an empty compartment while Ron and Hermione wandered up toward the front of the train to talk to the other prefects. Harry poked his head into a car to find Neville alone, storing his trunk and attempting to calm Trevor, his toad. He and Ginny took seats across from Neville. "Mind if we join you?" Harry asked, glad to see the other boy. He was eager to give Neville the gift he'd gotten for him.

Neville gave them a small smile. "Sure Harry. How was your summer?" he asked, his voice a bit tremulous. Neville had been in the Death Chamber with Harry when Sirius had fallen through the veil. Harry was sure that Neville was wondering the same thing everyone else was--how he was handling Sirius's death.

Harry shrugged. "Nothing special, worked on some stuff for the D.A. and sat around. Hermione's already trying to get us studying for N.E.W.T.s, but so far I've managed to resist that particular temptation. I have something for you," he added, digging the book out of his bag and handing it over.

Neville flushed with pleasure. "Thanks, Harry!" he exclaimed, examining the table of contents. "This is really excellent."

Harry smiled, glad to see Neville so happy. Harry felt sorry for the other boy, who had lost his parents' health and sanity in the war against Voldemort. Harry knew what it was like to have no parents, but to have parents, and not have them recognize you or be able to talk to you... he almost thought that would be worse than no parents at all.

"It's the least I could do," Harry said simply, "to thank you for coming with me to rescue Sirius. I wouldn't have gotten out of there alive without your help."

Neville beamed at Harry's praise, and Harry had the distinct impression that he'd rarely been given that kind of encouragement before. At that moment Ron and Hermione entered the car, looking harassed, followed at a distance by Luna Lovegood who, Harry was astonished to see, had a shiny prefect badge pinned to her robes. It wasn't that Luna wasn't intelligent or anything--she was in Ravenclaw. After all--but she did tend to drift around in her own world much of the time, and was considered decidedly odd by the entire school, even those students who liked her.

"Cursing Draco Malfoy into sludge would almost be worth a life sentence in Azkaban!" Hermione fumed, dropping into a seat in an angry huff. "He makes my skin positively crawl with loathing!"

Harry looked at Ron questioningly, but Ron just shrugged as if to say, "Who knows what she's on about this time?"

"He's just so incredibly arrogant!" she continued. "'I hear you spent half the summer with the Weasel, even your filthy Muggle parents can't stand you,'" she sneered, doing an excellent imitation of Malfoy. "He needs to be taught a lesson," she muttered angrily.

Harry's eyes hardened in anger at what Malfoy had said to his friend. "He does need to be taught a lesson," he agreed, looking at Ron. "We have to get him this year. Do something to pay him back for all the points he's gotten from Gryffindor, all the detentions he's gotten us... for Sirius."

Even Neville was nodding at the statement, a look of vindictive glee in his normally gentle eyes. Luna was staring dreamily out the carriage window, winding a long strand of blond hair around her wand. Harry didn't think she was even paying attention to their conversation when she said suddenly, "We need to expose him for what he truly is."

"But how?" Ginny asked, as she patted Hermione, who was still quite upset, comfortingly on the back.

Just then the car door opened and the subject of their discussion stepped into the carriage, accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle, his goon-like friends. "Planning how to become Dumbledore's favorite boy again, Potter?" he sneered, he gray eyes glaring into Harry's green ones. "Granger could give you some lessons in how to kiss up, as her lips seem to be permanently attached to Flitwick's ass."

"What are you going to give lessons in, Malfoy?" Ginny glared. "Advanced loser-being?"

"Yeah," Harry said almost casually, "when I'm Dumbledore's favorite again, he won't care when I accidentally curse you into oblivion." He pulled his wand out of his sleeve, stroking it lightly. "I've decided which curse I want to use on you now," he added, a hard glint in his eyes.

"If it weren't for that ridiculous old Muggle-lover, you'd be dead before you knew what hit you, Potter."

"Your death threats are getting old, Malfoy," Harry sneered the name. "By the way, how's your dad enjoying prison?"

Malfoy's eyes flashed angrily, and he looked as if he might curse Harry right there. Just then the witch with the lunch trolley came by, wanting to know if any of them wanted anything. Malfoy glared at Harry, turning to go. "I'd watch your back, Potter," he said coldly, leaving them staring daggers as their eyes followed him out of the car.

"We'll get him," Ron muttered angrily, "If it's the last thing we do."

"Does he really think after what happened last June, that he can scare us with his petty threats?" Ginny questioned angrily, fingering her wand as if she'd like to chase after the Slytherins. Harry blinked, realizing for the first time that Ginny was there. He was surprised she wasn't with her boyfriend.

"Er, Ginny," Harry asked suddenly, his cheeks flushing red, "Why aren't you sitting with Dean? I thought... you said last June...?"

"Oh, that!" Ginny said with a mischievous giggle, pocketing her wand. "I just said that to annoy Ron, as he was being such a git at the time, trying to tell me who I can and cannot date!" Everyone except Ron laughed, forgetting their anger at Malfoy for the moment. Harry slumped in his seat with laughter as his best friend's face turned a horribly molted combination of red and purple. He didn't know why he should feel so relieved at Ginny's confession, but he pushed the thoughts aside for the time being. He had enough to think about as it was.

********************

They hurried into the entrance hall of Hogwarts, their feet echoing on the stone flagging. Upon seeing the great staircase soaring upwards, the suits of armor creaking as they walked by, and even Peeves the Poltergeist cackling madly as he swooped down upon a group of second years, Harry felt warm and content--he was home.

He followed Hermione, Ron, and Ginny into the Great Hall, where Ginny waved good-bye to them and settled with her fifth year friends at the end of the table. Just as Harry was about to sit down with his own friends, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat behind him, looking stern.

"Mr. Potter," she said as he turned, looking at him over her spectacles. "Come with me, please." Turning on her heel, she strode toward the doors of the Great Hall. Shrugging at his friends' questioning glances, Harry followed his Head of House. He frowned to himself. What could his Transfiguration professor want with him on the first day? He couldn't have done anything wrong already, could he? And yet Professor McGonagall was looking very serious as they entered her office, indicating he should take a seat. Suddenly Harry remembered with a sickening lurch in his stomach the incident with the Slytherins on the Hogwarts Express last June. Could he possibly be being punished for cursing Malfoy into what greatly resembled a slug? But no, Ron and several members of the D.A. had helped in that. They would have been called to McGonagall's office too.

"Is something wrong, Professor?" Harry asked nervously. She had a definite look about her as if she were about to give him one of her lectures.

"I have some good news for you, Potter," she began, her face breaking into the smallest of smiles. "As you know, Miss Johnson has graduated, leaving the Gryffindor Quidditch team without a captain. I am pleased to inform you that the Headmaster has lifted the ban on your playing. If you are up to it, I'd like you to take up your place on the team as Seeker, as well as offer you the captaincy of the team."

Harry's worries disintegrated at her words and he smiled eagerly. Not only would he be flying again, he'd be captain! "Of course I'll do it!" he burst out, nearly yelling in his excitement.

McGonagall frowned. "I must impress upon you the seriousness of this position. It is a lot of responsibility, a lot of pressure for someone such as yourself. I know you already have extra lessons, and those must come first." She looked at him hard, her eyes serious. "However," she continued, a glint in her eyes, "I want to continue Gryffindor's winning streak as much as anyone else, and I trust you will not fail me. I don't relish handing this cup over to Professor Snape," she added, waving toward the gleaming Quidditch Cup in the back of her office, situated in a place of honor on the fireplace mantle.

"I won't let you down, Professor," Harry vowed, his brain already far away, going through the faces of his housemates and wondering who he could use to replace Angelina, who'd been a Chaser, and the two new Beaters they'd recruited last year, who were simply dismal.

"Very well," McGonagall said with a slight smile, standing. "Let's get back to the feast, then." She led the way to the Great Hall. As they reached the door, she turned to face him once more. "Oh yes," she said as almost an after thought, "your broom has been retrieved from the dungeons. It will be waiting for you in your dormitory."

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said excitedly. Quidditch captain! He grinned to himself as he ducked into the Great Hall, thinking that being Quidditch captain was far better than being a prefect. The Sorting was still going on as he slid onto the bench at the Gryffindor House table next to Ginny, who was chatting with her friends. He noticed Ron and Hermione farther up the table, but he didn't want to interrupt the ceremony by trying to make his way up to them.

"Damn," he muttered to himself, "I've missed the Sorting Hat's song."

Ginny turned to face him. "It was fairly standard," she shouted over the cheering students, clapping madly as Olsen, Philby, became a Gryffindor. "All about the houses needing to stick together and put aside their differences."

Harry searched out Draco Malfoy across a sea of heads at the Slytherin table, thinking that house unity would never be possible with the Slytherins at Hogwarts. The other boy had noticed Harry's late entrance and was treating him to his usual glare and sneer combination. Harry glared back, green eyes clashing with silver as the two boys fought a contest of wills, each unwilling to look away first.

Ginny elbowed him in the ribs rather harder than necessary and Harry turned his glare on his friend instead. She just rolled her eyes. "Oh please," she said. "You're so busy glaring at Malfoy you haven't even noticed what's going on at the head table."

Harry gave her a hard look just for good measure, and muttered something under his breath about the meanness of red heads, but looked up at the head table anyway. Travis, Halley, became the newest Hufflepuff. As she hurried over to her madly cheering new House, Harry's eyes swept past his Professors clapping politely, immediately lighting upon two young women seated to the left of the Headmaster, looking obviously nervous and out of place. The one directly to Dumbledore's left had bright red hair, almost as bright at Ginny's, that hung in a shiny cascade to her shoulders. Even from this distance, Harry could see the electric flash of her eyes, as green as his own. The girl seated next to her was smaller, almost frail looking, with blonde hair that curled softly about her shoulders. Her eyes her dark and luminous. Harry felt his stomach flip at the sight of them--he couldn't help but think they were both very pretty.

Ginny snorted, seeming to read his mind as he stared at the new professors. "You might want to stop gaping at them, Harry," she said dryly. "The red head is starting to notice."

Before Harry had time to be embarrassed, Professor Dumbledore stood up, tapping his goblet with his fork to get everyone's attention. The students seemed overly excited this year, and it took a few minutes before quiet settled over the hall.

"I know you are all eager to begin the year and most of all," he began, his eyes twinkling, "begin the feast! Therefore I will save the speeches until everyone has been properly fed and watered. Tuck in!"

With his last words the golden plates in front of them filled with food and the hall grew steadily louder as students caught up on the events of their summer holidays. "Who do you suppose they are?" Harry asked, stuffing a large forkful of Shepherds Pie into his mouth and nodding toward the head table.

"Well that's obvious, isn't it?" Ginny said, taking very delicate bites as if trying to demonstrate to Harry the proper way to eat. "One of them must be the new Defense teacher. I'm betting on the red head, as the blonde one looks like one well placed hex would do her in. Maybe the other one is teaching a new subject?"

Harry shook his head. Somehow he didn't think that was it. Surely Dumbledore would have sent an owl to everyone if they had the chance to take a new subject. "They're not wearing robes or hats," he commented, a slight strain of worry threading through his voice. "They... they look like Muggles, Ginny," he added, lowering his voice so the group of fifth years surrounding them couldn't hear. "What do you reckon Dumbledore is playing at? Those books we had to buy, the Muggles..." He frowned in worry. For the first time since entering the wizarding world, Harry wondered if Dumbledore was doing the right thing.

"How can you tell they're Muggles?" Ginny asked, frowning herself as she looked up at the head table. "Maybe they just don't like robes, and hats do tend to make one's hair go all fuzzy."

"They're obviously uncomfortable here," Harry pointed out, still stuffing food into his mouth at an unseemly rate. "Neither one of them have wands that I can see, and the blonde one keeps pointing out things to the other one, like the ceiling and the ghosts. Look, she's gaping at the Bloody Baron right now. What kind of witch has never seen a ghost before? Besides, they're young, not much older than us. If they're witches, they would've been at Hogwarts during our first year at least."

"Maybe they're foreign witches," Ginny argued, but was nonetheless staring at Harry, impressed. "I never knew you were so observant!" she said.

He looked at her, his eyebrows lifted slightly. "There's a lot about me you don't know," he pointed out, feeling a slightly guilty twinge at the hurt look in her eyes. Harry resolutely ignored it. He and Ginny had never been close, after all. Her crush on him his second and third years had made it nearly impossible for them to be friends. Now that all that seemed to be changing, Harry didn't want to jinx it by being careful around her, the way he'd done before. He met Ginny's eyes in a stare that seemed to last years, rather than seconds, before it was broken by the sound of Dumbledore tapping his goblet with his fork. Harry broke their gaze and looked toward the head table to see Dumbledore standing, his silver beard gleaming in the candlelight of the hall.

He smiled around at them. "Welcome to the start of a new term at Hogwarts! I have a few announcements. As you all should be well aware of by now, the Forest on the castle grounds is strictly forbidden. Any student caught going unsupervised into the Forest will be met with severe consequences, if his body is ever found, that is. I've been asked to remind you all that magic is not allowed in the corridors. Any student caught dueling will be given detention. And finally, I am pleased to introduce your new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructors, Professor Rosenburg," he smiled kindly, nodding at the red haired girl seated next to him, "and Professor Summers," he added, indicating the blonde haired girl. "Our new Professors are very unique and have much to teach you! I hope you will all give them your respect and attention for the next year. And now I see that you are all quite tired and you've had a long day. Good night, and good luck in your classes!" he said, dismissing them with a smile.

Harry didn't leave the Great Hall straight away. Ron and Hermione were herding the first years toward the doors. As they passed, Harry grabbed Ron by the arm, pointedly looking at the head table. Ron followed his friend's gaze. Professor Dumbledore was deep in conversation with the new Defense professors, but more interesting than that was their Potion Master's reaction to the two young women. Severus Snape, Hogwarts most feared and hated professor, looked almost... frightened! The thought of Snape being afraid of anything shook Harry more than he cared to admit, and he couldn't help but wonder what was so scary about two Muggle girls barely older than himself...

"Blimey, Harry!" Ron breathed excitedly. "Look at Snape! He looks like he'd like to run away from those girls. Its an improvement over his usual sneer, though," he added as they left the hall.

"What do you reckon this is all about?" Harry asked, his voice filled with concern. "We can't afford to lose another year of Defense training!" he added angrily.

"Calm down, mate," Ron said, giving the password to the portrait that guarded the secret entrance to Gryffindor tower. "That's what the D.A. is for, right?"

Harry nodded numbly, slumping into one of the squishy chairs by the fireplace. Hermione and Ginny had waited up for them, although most of the other Gryffindors had gone straight up to their dormitories to unpack.

"What did McGonagall want, anyway?" Ron asked, taking the chair next to Harry.

Harry brightened immediately. "She's lifted the Quidditch ban on me, and offered me the captaincy, as Angelina's graduated."

Ron gave a loud whoop and Ginny grinned, but Hermione looked worried. "That's a lot of responsibility, Harry," she said nervously. "You've already got extra lessons with Snape, and the D.A. meetings, in addition to your regular classes."

Harry felt a brief flash of anger at his friend, but smothered it resolutely. Hermione cared about him, he told himself. She just worried that he'd be taking on too much.

"You guys will just have to help me even more with the D.A.," he said, looking at each one of them in turn. He felt a little guilty at putting more responsibility on his friends, especially Ginny who had just begun her O.W.L. year, but they were all nodding excitedly.

"We've already found loads of great stuff, Harry!" Ron said excitedly. "Now that we're back at school we can start practicing the spells we found this summer so we can teach them to the D.A."

Harry grinned. "We're sort of like a planning committee," he said. "Hermione, how would you feel about being in charge of the potions? You could make the ones we've already found, and maybe do a little more research in your spare time. We can order some of the more rare ingredients by owl post."

Hermione nodded, her eyes gleaming at the thought of making such complicated potions. Harry shook his head. Hermione's passion for extra work never failed to amaze him.

"Ginny, Ron and I can divide the hexes and curses and things between us. I want to have our first meeting soon, maybe even this week if I can get permission from McGonagall," Harry said. "Now," he added softly, leaning forward in his chair, "what do you suppose the new Defense professors are all about?"

Hermione glanced around quickly, not wanting to be overheard, "They're Muggles," she said softly, matching Harry's tone. "Why would Dumbledore hire Muggles?"

Ron surprised them all with his next statement. "Maybe," he said, his face flushed with excitement, "maybe Muggles can do magic!"

Ginny shook her head. "If they can, its not the kind of magic we're familiar with. They didn't have wands, for one thing, and as Harry pointed out to me, they'd never seen ghosts or anything like that before."

"Well I guess we'll find out soon enough," Hermione said with a yawn, standing. "I, for one, want to get a decent night's rest before classes start tomorrow. And you should too," she added, giving them a nagging glare. "I don't want you two depending on my notes again this year!"

"Fine, fine," Ron grumbled.

Once he and Harry had reached their dormitory Harry collapsed on his four poster gratefully, sighing happily as he looked around him. Dean, Seamus, and Neville had already pulled the curtains around their beds, but Harry knew his friends were there, and that this year none of them thought he'd gone mad. And best of all his Firebolt rested on top of the trunk at the end of his bed, gleaming in the faint moonlight. He fell asleep with a smile, thinking that this year was going to be far better that the last.

********************

At breakfast the next morning the sixth year Gryffindors received their schedules. Harry was relieved to see that Potions was still on his, despite having only made an "Acceptable" on his O.W.L. Dumbledore must have succeeded in convincing Snape to let Harry and Ron into his N.E.W.T. class after all.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed excitedly. "I've got Potions on my time table! Maybe Dumbledore forced Snape to lower his standards a bit."

Harry smiled, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "I...er...sort of made a deal with Dumbledore," he revealed, casting a nervous glance at a clearly disapproving Hermione. "I sort of blackmailed him," he admitted guiltily.

"Oh honestly, Harry! Why would you go to so much trouble to be stuck in the dungeons for another year with Snape?" Hermione cried out.

"How did you do it?" Ron asked, both boys ignoring Hermione's protests of disapproval.

"I told him I'd continue Occlumency if he got Snape to let us in," he admitted, staring guiltily into his porridge.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione said, shaking her head.

"That's brilliant!" Ron exclaimed.

"Well, we've got Charms in ten minutes. We'd better get going if we want to make it there on time," Hermione said finally. Harry was relieved she'd dropped the subject, as he already felt incredibly guilty about tricking Dumbledore. Still, he thought to himself as they left the Great Hall, Snape's standards were ridiculously high. Harry knew he could do the work as long as Snape wasn't torturing him the entire time.

The day seemed to move at a snail-like pace as the three friends waited eagerly for their afternoon class, Defense Against the Dark Arts. They all wanted to put an end to the mystery surrounding the two new professors. At lunch Ginny complained through her chicken stew about the amount of work she already had after only two classes, while Ron, Harry, and Hermione speculated about what was in store for them during their Defense lesson.

Neville, who was sitting across from Ginny, leaned toward them in a secretive manner. "I heard some fourth year Hufflepuffs whispering about the new professors. They said the class was amazing, despite the professors being Americans, and one girl even said that someone named Buffy was her new idol."

"Buffy?" Hermione sputtered. "What an awful name!"

"I wouldn't talk if I were you," Ron said smugly.

"Oh honestly!" Hermione began. "Why do you--"

"--we should get going!" Harry interrupted, before this could turn into a full fledged argument. He got the distinct impression that Hermione was a bit sensitive about her unusual name. "I want to get to class early so we can get good seats."

The sixth years left Ginny behind, still bemoaning her rapidly disappearing free time. They weren't the first to arrive, despite being nearly ten minutes early. Many of the seats up front had already been taken by a group of eager Ravenclaws, among them Terry Boot, a D.A. member. He approached Harry now, as he and his friends settled themselves in the middle of the room.

"Hello, Harry," he said, nodding at the other Gryffindors. "So are you going to start up the D.A. again now that Umbridge is gone?" he asked bluntly. "Only, I've told some of the other Ravenclaws about it, and they want to join."

Harry nodded. "I need to speak to McGonagall first, but I'm hoping to have our first meeting sometime this week."

They were interrupted by the entrance of the new Defense teachers. Terry hurried back to his seat as the two young women entered the room, chatting amicably.

Harry couldn't help but stare at them, and noticed many of the other boys in the class staring too. Professor Rosenburg was dressed simply in a flowing skirt and green top, but she had an electric energy about her that made Harry a little nervous and excited at the same time. Professor Summers walked with a confident stride that made him stare, as did her rather too-tight leather pants and halter top. He'd never really seen a girl dressed this way, and certainly not any girl at Hogwarts. He found himself wishing wistfully that voluminous black robes weren't part of their school uniforms.

Hermione cleared her throat angrily, poking Ron in the back to tell him to shut his mouth, as he was gaping in a rather obvious way at the professors. Professor Rosenburg smiled nervously, twisting her hands in her skirt at the class quieted down and stared at the two young women expectantly. Clearing her throat hesitantly, she said, "First off, we're not really very professory. We're still in school ourselves. So, you can just call me Willow." Professory? Harry thought to himself. Was that even a real word?

"I'm Buffy," the other girl said with a nod, as if to emphasize her point. So this was the infamous Buffy, fourth year Hufflepuff's idol. Harry, consumed with curiosity, stared in fascination at his professors. He didn't feel too badly about this, as the rest of the class was also staring. Most of them, he thought, had probably never seen proper Muggles before, and Americans, as Harry knew from sneaking in to watch the telly when Dudley wasn't paying attention, were a special breed of Muggle altogether. His thoughts were interrupted by Buffy's next words. "I guess we should probably explain a few things before we get started. I know we look like ordinary people, and you're probably thinking, 'What are these two, um, mug people?, doing, trying to teach our class?'" She looked around, some of the students were nodding in agreement, while a few others were sniggering at the word "mug people." "Well we may be mug people, but we're a lot more than we seem." She looked to Willow. "Why don't you tell the story, Will. You're a lot more Watcher-ish than me. I can never keep a straight face when we start talking Codex and prophesy."

Harry was having a hard time following the blonde's speech. She seemed to be making up a lot of words. Maybe it was just an American thing? he wondered to himself.

Willow grinned. "Oooookaaay," she said, drawing the word out so that it sounded like an entire sentence. She began pacing, obviously trying to figure out the best way to tell the story. Finally, with a deep breath she began. "Well, let's see. When the earth was first formed, there were no men, only demons. Demons walked the earth unchecked and, um, unfettered for centuries. They eventually left for more exciting dimensions. You know, places with more fire and damnation and torture. Ooh, and blood. They like places where there's lots of bleeding and people screaming in agony."

The class stared at her, some appalled, others clearly not believing a word she said. She continued on bravely, "Well eventually, only vestiges of them remained, vestiges that infected humans and formed these sort of human hybrids. Vampires, werewolves, that kind of thing." She paused for a moment. "You guys do know about vampires, right?"

Hermione raised her hand tentatively. "Vampires are part human non-magical creatures, considered cursed and highly dangerous. We've done a bit of superficial study on them, of course but... I-I don't believe we're supposed to study them in depth until seventh year," she added hesitantly, clearly wanting to know more, but not wanting to break any rules.

Buffy snorted. "Part human, right. Blood sucking, soulless fiends is more like it. You'll learn quick enough when you're attacked. When one of them is eyeing you like a happy meal on legs, it won't matter when you're supposed to learn about them."

"Buffy!" Willow admonished. "There just kids. We're not here to scare them."

Buffy snorted. "By the time we were their age we'd averted what--two apocalypses? Apocalypsi. What's the plural for 'apocalypse'?" she asked with a look of confusion.

Willow shook her head and pushed on with her story, while Buffy seemed to be talking to herself, trying to figure out the plural. Harry could see her lips forming different variations of the word and had to stifle a laugh. He wondered at her statement. She had averted two apocalypses? The tiny girl in front of him who, truth be told, seemed a little empty headed? He focused on Willow, who was speaking again. "Well anyway, a bunch of monks or priests or something--can't remember which, there's always some group of old men responsible for these things--got together one day and decided they had to do something about the demons before civilization and human kind itself was lost forever. So using the oldest druid earth magics, they created the Slayer."

The class stared at her, stunned into gaping mouthed silence. Slayer? Demons? Harry thought to himself. Was this all some huge joke of Dumbledore's? Hermione looked thunderstruck, and Harry wondered if it was at the story itself, or because she hadn't already known it.

Harry found himself raising his hand, to his own and the rest of the class's amazement. "Er, what's a Slayer?" he asked hesitantly.

Buffy gave him a wicked smile that made him swallow hard. "Oooh, I used to hate it when Giles spouted this off to me, but now I finally get to say it, and its not going to be followed by the words, 'You'll very likely die before you're allowed to vote,' or something else dreary and British." Several students were glaring at her now, and Neville actually said, "Pardon me?" in a highly offended voice. "Not that you're dreary!" she countered quickly. "But you know the type... men with glasses and tweed constantly drinking tea and eating scones who refuse to even get near a computer?" She shook her head and gave up on trying to appease the class. "Anyway, so what's a Slayer, four-eyes wants to know?" She cleared her throat impressively and said in a melodramatically fake British accent, "Into every generation a Slayer is born. One girl in all the world, a Chosen One. One born with the strength and skill to fight the vampires. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness." She shrugged and hopped to sit on the edge of the desk, swinging her booted feet freely, as her legs were too short to reach the ground. "And that's me," she finished. "I'm the Slayer."

Harry felt a sort of stillness and dread go through him. Her words eerily reminded him of the prophecy that had been made about him. He alone would be able to fight Voldemort, he alone would have the power...

He was snapped out of his reverie by Willow's next words. "So, um, Dumbledore thought it'd be a good idea for you guys to learn some hand to hand combat skills. That's Buffy's deal. She'll teach you some basic fighting skills, and maybe even move on to some weaponry, crossbows and stuff like that. You'll do that on Mondays. I'll take care of the magical aspect of things."

Hermione was the one with her hand in the air this time. "I don't mean to be rude," she said shyly, never one to question a teacher, "but didn't you say before that you're a Muggle?"

Willow frowned. "I guess I am, that's true. But I can do magic. Its hard to explain... Oh! I know! You've all seen Star Wars, right?" She looked around at the room full of blankly staring faces. "You know, 'May the Force be with you,' 'Luke, I am your father?'" The class continued to stare at her as if she'd gone mad. "Star Wars!" she cried out in frustration, clearly thinking they were the mad ones. "'There is no try, only do'! Obi Wan Kenobi, and Chubacca, and those cute little Ewok guys!"

"Give it up, Will," Buffy said. "These kids seem to suffer from an entire lack of all things fun. They're fun-less."

Harry raised his hand. He knew very well what Star Wars was--Dudley had spent half the summer after his third year watching the films over and over again. Harry hadn't been able to see more than bits and pieces, but at least he knew it was a film. "Er, most of us have only ever lived in the wizarding world. We don't really watch Muggle films. We don't have television at all, actually."

Willow and Buffy exchanged horrified glances. "Ok well, here's another way to explain it." She gave a sad sigh. "The Star Wars metaphor was way more entertaining. Anyway. You guys are like natural witches and wizards. You have magic, power, inside you. Your wands are a way of controlling and centering that magic, as well as adding to it through their own magical cores. I, on the other hand, have no magic inside me. I'm more like a conductor, I guess. There are forces outside of us, connected to the earth, demons, gods, all kinds of things. If you know the right words and have enough focus and strength of mind, anyone, even muglings like us, can summon a demon or perform a spell. Some people make better conductors, of course. Some Muggles couldn't do a simply levitation spell if their lives depended on it. Other people though... once you get powerful enough, you don't even need words or sacrifices to summon and conjure." Willow shuddered a little as if remembering a particularly bad experience. "Dumbledore wants me to teach you some of this magic. He thinks you guys are too dependent on your wands." She frowned a little. "I have to warn you though. Demons and gods and things, they don't always obey the person who summons them. Even drawing on the natural forces around us can be dangerous, can... get out of hand." A dark shadow seemed to pass over the girl's bright eyes, and Harry noticed Buffy reach over and grab her hand, squeezing it a little bit as if to give her friend a bit of strength.

A Ravenclaw boy, Anthony Goldstein, raised his hand. "I think I speak for everyone here," he said a little snidely, Harry thought, "when I say that I won't believe that until I see it."

Willow looked taken aback, but Buffy gave the boy a glare. "I don't slay on command, you know," she said, obviously offended at having her powers questioned. "Its not a spectator sport."

"Uh, actually Buffy, there is that thing we can do, with the thing," Willow said hesitantly.

"Oh, right. The thing. Well, fine. But I don't like being treated like I'm some sort of show-Slayer to be pranced around on a leash while my trainer makes me jump through hoops." She sighed and hopped off the desk.. "Ok, everyone up, and move to the sides of the room. Stand back and don't interfere, whatever you do. None of you are ready to take on a vamp yet, and I don't want any students dying my first day on the job. We can save the death and mayhem for a little later in the term. Let's do the graveyard scene, Will," she said to the other girl, pulling a wickedly pointed stick out of her sleeve.

The class stood awkwardly from their desks and moved to the backs and sides of the room as the small blonde girl had instructed. Willow closed her eyes, whispering a few words under her breath. When she opened them, Harry was horrified to see that they had turned a deep black. He could practically feel the power radiating off the red haired girl as the room seemed to shimmer and fade into darkness, then slip into a dim half night. Harry was amazed to find himself, not in the classroom, but in a dark graveyard, lit only by a high bright moon above. For a moment fear surged through him as he remembered the night of the third task in the Triwizard tournament, when he had suddenly appeared in a graveyard with none other than Voldemort himself awaiting him. He shook his head. Buffy was speaking, and the rest of the class was standing back in fear, obviously just as amazed as he had been at Willow's display of power. This was advanced magic, far beyond anything the sixth years knew.

"Ok, now stay back, all of you. A vampire will rise out of one of these plots. Watch what I do, but always keep in mind a few important things. First, you have to get it in the heart. I missed the heart my first time out, and it wasn't pretty. I would have been toast if it hadn't been for my Watcher. Second, I'm the Slayer. This is my sacred duty, or whatever, and no one can really do it the way I can. I have Slayer powers. This may look easy, but it won't be, not for you."

Just then, the ground in front of a tall gravestone on the left began to churn, and a sickly pale hand reached out of the ground, causing Parvati to give a little scream and press her back more firmly against the wall of the classroom, which Willow had somehow transformed into the wall of the cemetery. Soon the hand was join by another, then by a head. The vampire's face was ridged, its long sharp teeth gleamed in the moonlight as it snarled, pulling itself out of the grave.

"Slayer," it growled as Buffy turned to face the creature, her stick held high in front of her.

"Slayee," Buffy said.

The vampire lunged toward her and Buffy quickly sidestepped with a speed and grace Harry had not thought possible of humans. She twirled on the balls of her feet, one leg swinging out in a wide arc to come crashing down onto the vampire's head. He went down, but was up quickly, rushing the small girl with blood in his eyes. They fought hard and quickly, Buffy taking several punches, but finally sending the creature flying with a well placed kick to its head. It hit a headstone and stood, shaking its head dizzily as Buffy closed in. Flipping her stick almost casually in her right hand, she blocked a wild punch from the vampire and lunged forward quickly, plunging the stick into the creature's chest. It promptly disappeared in a poof of dust.

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. They were all amazed by what had just happened, and none of them seemed capable of speech. "Satisfied?" Buffy asked glibly, blowing on her stick as if it were a smoking gun. She smiled at Willow. "I think they're finally convinced."

"Oh, I don't know," she red head said, glancing innocently around at the class. "Maybe we could do a nice demon summoning, you know, just to make sure."

***************

"Do you know what this means!" Hermione exclaimed as they left the class in a daze. Harry was still trying to get over the shock of having seen something turn into a small cloud of dust in front of him to answer her. It didn't seem to matter though. Far from being dazed herself, Hermione was walking quickly ahead of them, muttering to herself. She paused in frustration, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited for Harry and Ron to catch up.

"Er, that vampires really do exist?" Harry asked as they climbed the stairs to Gryffindor Tower.

"And that they're really ugly sorts of blokes?" Ron added.

"Bubotuber puss!" Hermione exclaimed. For a moment, Harry stared at her in confusion before he realized she was merely telling the password to the portrait of the Fat Lady that guarded the Gryffindor common room. They stepped through the portrait and Hermione dragged them into a secluded corner.

"Er, what are we supposed to realize?" Harry asked finally.

Hermione's eyes glittered. "Can't you see what an advantage this will be, not needing our wands? Oh, I expect we'll never be as good without them, but if we could do this other magic, we could at least find a way to get our wands back, or hold Death Eaters off until help arrives, or something!"

Harry nodded. "Its good, yeah," he said. "And I like the idea of learning some fighting skills. Did you see the way Buffy attacked that vampire! It was amazing! I bet she'd be brilliant at Quidditch, with those reflexes."

"Its too bad she's a professor," Ron said, nodding. "We'd be sure to win the Cup with her on our side."

The conversation turned quickly from Defense to Quidditch as Harry and Ron began discussing possible replacements for Angelina, Alicia, and the Beaters. "We'll need to hold some tryouts," Ron was saying as Hermione scowled and stalked off, sick of everything turning into Quidditch talk.

"Ginny said last year she'd like to try out for Chaser, but who'll we get for Beaters?" Harry gave a sad little sigh. "I already miss Fred and George." While he was thinking about it, Harry decided to speak to Professor McGonagall about booking the pitch to have tryouts, hopefully by Friday so that they could begin practices soon. With so many new players on the team, they'd definitely need to start early.

He found her in her office, her quill scratching at a long piece of parchment in front of her. "Er, Professor?" he asked, pausing in the doorway.

"Come in, Potter," she said, laying her quill aside with a sigh. "What is it you need?"

"Er," Harry began nervously. Professor McGonagall always made him feel as if he were about to receive detention. "I need to book the pitch for Friday afternoon, if I can. To hold Quidditch tryouts."

Professor McGonagall smiled, making Harry stare. He'd never seen her smile so widely before. "Excellent! I have a lot of faith in your abilities, Potter. Starting early is just the thing! Very well, you have permission to use the pitch. Anything else?"

"Er, yes, actually," Harry said, even more nervously. He wanted to ask permission to reform the D.A., but he didn't know what McGonagall would think of it. After all, it had been the D.A. that had gotten Dumbledore in so much trouble with the Ministry the year before, and Harry didn't know if McGonagall would appreciate the club being started up again. He stared at his shoes and worked up a bit of courage. McGonagall wasn't nearly as frightening as the dragon he'd faced in his fourth year, he tried to tell himself. "I was hoping, that is, a lot of us students, er..."

"I do have other business to attend to, Potter," Professor McGonagall said with a touch of impatience. "What is it you're trying to say?"

"We want to reform our defense club," Harry blurted out.

"Permission granted," she said immediately, making Harry stare. "Would you like the use of a classroom for your meetings, or would you rather continue to meet in the Room of Requirement?"

Harry was speechless for a moment. "Did you... you knew?" he sputtered.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Did you really think that twenty students could hold secret meetings in this school for several months without my knowledge?"

Harry nodded dumbly, backing out of the room. "Er, well, thanks Professor!" He made his way back to Gryffindor Tower in stunned silence. Of course she had to have known, he realized finally. Dumbledore always knew everything that went on in the castle, and he surely would have told McGonagall, if only to keep Umbridge out of their way as they left meetings. He'd never before wondered how they hadn't been caught before they were; after all, twenty some people walking about the seventh floor corridor was a bit odd at the best of times. He shook his head as he stepped through the Fat Lady's portrait and made his way up to his dormitory. Dumbledore had been protecting him all along.

******************