Harry Potter and the Dark Mark

Chapter Thirteen

Harry found himself sitting in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express with Cho Chang for reasons that confused and worried him. The first reason was the fact that he was avoiding Ginny. He was avoiding Ginny because he liked her, and he was afraid of what Ron might do to him if this situation was discovered. He was with Cho because he didn't like her in the same way that he liked Ginny, but he was also afraid of what Ginny might do to Cho if him if this situation was discovered. If it wasn't enough to get his head around, Malfoy had wolf whistled when they got into the same compartment, Ron and Hermione were being too lovey-dovey for words, and Ginny had been giving him those looks ever since Boxing Day. Cho was being perfectly amicable but nothing more, and Harry was behaving in a distracted manner. He came out of a daydream to find Cho grinning at him lopsidedly, and he knew instantly that she was onto him.

"So, Harry, who's the lucky girl?" she chuckled. Harry coloured.

"Erm... I need the toilet," he lied, and slid out of the compartment, neatly bumping into Ginny as he did so.

'Out of the frying pan and into the fire,' he thought to himself. He didn't say this to Ginny, however. Instead, he looked at the floor, then at his shoes, and mumbled something unintelligible.

"Harry, we need to talk." Ginny stood firm, arms folded, jaw set.

Harry scuffed the floor with his shoe.

"Harry..." Ginny murmured warningly.

"You sound like your Mum," Harry said quietly, risking a small smile.

"I hope that's no why you're attracted to me, because-" She grinned impishly.

"Ginny, I..." Harry cast about in his mind for the right way of putting what he wanted to say. Unfortunately, the only things he could think of sounded most un Gryffindor-like and decidedly cowardly, so he chose the easy option. "I'd rather wait until you were a bit... older," he muttered finally. There was a deafening silence. Ginny reddened.

"I see," she said in a tight voice that proved to Harry he had said just the wrong thing. She had reacted like this just before they'd got on the train, when Ron and Mrs Weasley had tried to convince her to stay at home. The train was half empty, a lot of parents no longer considering the school a safe place with the Death Eater attacks so close by. Mrs Weasley had no qualms about sending Ron back, but her 'little girl' was another matter entirely. They had argued, about who was taking their OWLS and when, about how they had all faced danger, about how they always mollycoddled Ginny, and how she felt suffocated, and eventually, Ginny had got her way. It had not been a cruise to victory though. Harry winced at the memory.

"I'm..." he started, trying to remedy the situation, but it was too late.

"Everyone thinks I'm such a little girl!" Ginny growled in a funny, low voice. Harry could hear, rather than see, that she was on the verge of tears. "Ron, Mum, Charlie, Bill, Percy, even you! Well - stuff the lot of you!" With that she turned and walked unsteadily down the shuddering carriage, and into the next one. The door didn't quite close behind her, and through the gap, Harry heard a cold drawling voice.

"What's wrong, Weasley? Been spurned by Potty?"

"Up yours Malfoy!"

"Oh, I like a girl with a bit of fire about her," Malfoy sneered. "Care for a game of Exploding Snap?" Harry felt a hot ball of fire leap up his throat. He surged down into the next carriage.

"Leave her alone, Malfoy!" he yelled. Malfoy and Ginny turned, surprised.

"What are you, Potter, her keeper? Can't she look after herself?" Malfoy gave Harry the kind of look Snape reserved especially for Neville. Ginny suddenly seemed focussed, as if she had discovered something important.

"No, I-"

"Yeah, why not, Malfoy?" Ginny cut in carelessly. "I need a bit of fun." For the second time that day she turned her back on Harry and marched up to Malfoy. Malfoy gave Harry a triumphant smirk, and slid his arm across Ginny's shoulder. She didn't even react, but strode sturdily on. Sullenly, Harry watched them enter a compartment together. Seconds later, a bewildered Crabbe and Goyle exited the very same compartment. Harry clenched his fists, but there was nothing he could do. He had thoroughly messed things up. Ron was really going to kill him.

"Harry, what's going on? I heard you shout!" Cho called from the carriage behind.

"Nothing," Harry called back. He stumped back into their compartment and sat down. "Absolutely nothing is going on at all," he grumbled to himself.

Dumbledore gave a short but highly interesting speech at the first feast back. He welcomed Colin and the others specially, assured everyone that the school had been searched thoroughly for any signs of dark magic, and that none had been found.

"You may have noticed," Dumbledore began, after a rapid burst of conversation about the search had lulled, "that we are joined by a new member of staff. Harry, Ron and Hermione perked up at this. They had all been too absorbed in their own thoughts to notice that there was indeed a stranger sitting at the staff table.

"The recent attacks have prompted our friends in the Ministry to send out the Aurors in force, on the trail of He Who Must Not Be Named. Unfortunately this meant that Professor Moody had to depart from Hogwarts prematurely. I am sure he will be sorely missed by Staff and pupils alike. However, his replacement is a teacher of excellent repute, and I would ask you to welcome Professor Figg, your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher." Dumbledore lead the polite applause.

Harry was surprised, because he could remember that the old lady who had babysat him for the Dursleys had been called Mrs Figg. He ran his eyes along the row of teachers, and as plain as the cat settling down in front of Professor Flitwick, was old Mrs Figg. But as hard as it was to take in that Mrs Figg was a witch, had been a witch, and would be a witch when she taught him Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry found the most bemusing fact took a few seconds to sink in. He replayed everything that his stunned mind had just taken in, and then found what troubled him. There was a cat sitting down on the table in front of Professor Flitwick. His eyes rapidly located a number of cats all arranged either in Mrs Figg's lap, around her feet, or rubbing up against various members of staff. Ron let out a bellow of laughter when one cat started chewing the trailing sleeve of Snape's robe.

Apparently oblivious to the cats, Dumbledore clapped his hands and the meal appeared. People tucked in, presuming the cats had a purpose. The meal was frequently punctuated with sharp exclamations of, "Mr Paws! Keep your claws out of that young man's dinner!" and "Snowy, I've already told you not to eat chicken bones, you know they're dangerous. Bad girl!" Harry couldn't wait for his next Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, although he was slightly dubious as to what Mrs Figg could teach them. However, he held faith with Dumbledore. He wouldn't employ a useless teacher, not at this dark time.

The Gryffindor fifth years had Defence Against the Dark Arts for the last lesson the next afternoon, after every other fifth year class. No one would say anything of what they had learnt in the lesson, but merely smiled mysteriously.

The Slytherins seemed very contemptuous of Mrs- wait, Professor Figg, whereas the other houses viewed her as a source of constant delight. Tibbles was the favourite cat amongst the Hufflepuffs, and liked to sleep on Hannah Abbott's lap, according to Justin Finch Fletchley. The Ravenclaws favoured Tufty, though, because he had fought Mrs Norris and won. Filch had gone to Dumbledore to complain, and Professor Figg had allegedly threatened to set her dog on Mrs Norris if 'that awful cat' was caught snooping about her classroom again. Hermione was acutely interested by the fact that Professor Figg had a dog, but she wouldn't say why, only parting with some nonsense about Crookshanks behaving oddly. It was with great excitement that Harry approached the classroom the next day.

"Sit down, sit down," Professor Figg instructed everyone in a quavering voice. "Today, I will be learning your names. You will learn the names of my cats, and then we will all learn about erm..." She adjusted her brown robes as she said this, and Harry could see that she had a cardigan on underneath, and a pair of pink fluffy slippers protruded from beneath her desk. The classroom was already beginning to smell suspiciously of cats. After she had called out their names and squinted at them briefly in turn, Professor Figg settled back into her chair (complete with crocheted cushion) and pulled Snowy onto her lap.

"Now, we will be learning about... ooh, lets see, let's see, Snowy my love, what did I teach the others about?" Snowy, a soot black cat, meowed loudly, and Professor Figg smiled as memory flooded her face. "Ah, yes. Can anyone tell me anything about Pogrebins?"

The class was silent, and Hermione's hand wavered in the air.

"Yes, Miss, er - Granger?" Professor Figg asked in an interested manner.

"Pogrebins are from Russia. They're small grey demons that make people feel lethargic, and they attempt to devour them," Hermione answered.

"Excellent. Five points to Gryffindor. Now, somewhere in this blasted room, there is a Pogrebin. Except I forget where I put him. You see, Pogrebins are about knee height, and they hide in your shadow. If you turn round, they crouch low, and the victim mistakes them for a rock. After a few hours of follow my leader, the victim becomes overcome with despair, and sinks to their knees to wonder what the point is, and- yes, Mr er...?"

"Thomas," began Dean. "Erm, point to what, exactly, Professor Figg?"

"Oh, er, well, the point to it all." Seeing Dean's blank face, she elaborated. "Life, the universe, and everything." She seemed to think this would make sense, because she forged ahead with her explanation, all the while searching the area behind her desk slowly and methodically. "Well, when you fall to your knees, they try to eat you. But you can fend them off easily with a stupefying charm. I trust you all know the stupefying charm? Oh well, it doesn't matter if you don't. If in doubt, a good kick can do the trick! Oh, dear, my back does ache! It comes with age, you know. Sometimes I wonder why I bother..." She shuffled down the aisle between Harry and Ron's desk, examining between their feet. Then, suddenly, she fell to the floor. There was nothing Harry could do to stop her. Ron leapt to his feet, his chair falling onto the floor with a crash.

"Professor Figg, are you al- aaaah!" he started, but was cut short when a knee high furry grey demon with a large, shiny, bald head snarled and attempted to sink its teeth into Professor Figg's posterior. If the Pogrebin hadn't looked so hungry, the situation might have been funny. Lavender and Parvati screamed, Snowy erupted into a hissing, snarling, black fur ball, Hermione tried to reach her wand but knocked it to the floor, and Professor Figg flailed her arms weakly.

In all the confusion, Harry alone kept his head, pulled his wand forth and bellowed, "Stupefy!" and with a flash of red and gold sparks, stunned the Pogrebin. Seamus, for good measure, aimed a good kick at it, and then everyone crowded round Professor Figg. She refused all help from Neville and Dean, and clambered to her feet.

"Well, the best response I've had from a class yet," she announced brightly. Ron and Hermione began to laugh, realising that the whole thing had been set up to test them. Professor Figg scooped Snowy up and deposited her on the chair, and then retrieved the stunned Pogrebin. She summoned a wire cage and dropped the demon into it. "Five points to Mr Potter and Mr Finnigan. So, for homework, I'd like you to write a brief essay, no longer than ten inches, on Pogrebins. You may do extra research in the library if you so wish, and I give extra credit for drawings. I find they help to jog the memory when exam time comes round. You may leave!" She secured the cage and then banished it to a far corner, and settled down in her chair with Snowy on her lap. The Gryffindors filed out quietly, muttering amongst themselves. As soon as the door had shut behind them, they burst out into a loud discussion of Professor Figg, and the peculiarities of her class. Harry heard his name called as he left the classroom.

"Yes, Professor?" He returned, and stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"Harry, I would like you to meet my dog." Hesitantly, Harry made his way to Professor Figg's desk, and inspected the huge black hound she called her dog. The dog inspected him back. Harry blinked through his glasses.

"No..." he muttered, unsure.

"Yes. Harry, my dog's name is Snuffles," Professor Figg announced cheerfully. Harry didn't know what to say at all.