The Awakening Power

Chapter 11: The New Professors

* * *

Harry walked into the Great Hall, feeling very nervous that morning as he sat down with Ron and Hermione. He loaded up a bowl of cereal, but couldn't seem to find much interest in his food as he picked at it distractedly. Today was to be the first class with Snape as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Harry, when would you like to start D.A. meetings again?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I dunno. Dumbledore gave permission; I suppose we could start anytime," Harry said.

"Shall I post a notice on the bulletin board? I would think we can continue to use the Room of Requirement as well," Hermione said.

"All right. Maybe we should set a schedule, and then I can check with Tonks and make sure it's okay with her," Harry said.

Hermione looked officious as she briskly pulled out a calendar marked with various dates. "Here's a schedule I set up. Of course, we can change it when the Quidditch practice times are announced."

Harry took the schedule. It was twice a week, with an evening session during the week, and a morning session on weekends.

"This looks good... I'll send this off to Tonks after breakfast," Harry said.

Distracted from his Snape thoughts, Harry finally started eating his cereal, feeling a bit more upbeat about starting up the D.A. again. He was reviewing some ideas in his head for the first meeting as the morning owls began arriving. As in the previous days, he got a large bundle of letters, which Seamus and Dean dutifully took from him for later examination.

"Thanks," he said gratefully.

"No worries, mate," said Seamus. "It'll probably start to die down in a few weeks."

Just then Harry heard a minor ruckus. He looked down the table and noticed that Ginny had received a very long, wrapped package. He tried to act nonchalant as he pasted a look of curiosity on his face. Her eyes were wide, looking at the brightly colored wrapping.

"What's that, Ginny?" asked Ron.

"Dunno. Fred and George sent it," she said.

"Erm, maybe you should open it up outside, or in a reinforced room, or something," said Ron nervously.

Ginny laughed. "Oh, come on. Fred and George are more clever than that. They wouldn't just send a joke package," she said. Pausing, she added, "At least, I don't think they would..."

"Oh, sod it. Let's see what it is. I'm dying of curiosity," Ginny said, and started tearing off the wrapping with gusto, revealing a long box.

She opened the box and pulled out a beautiful new broom. It was stained a fiery red color and was polished to a bright finish. The tail was sleekly designed, obviously built with great attention to detail. On the front was a brass plaque with some writing. Ginny blinked her eyes, as if she couldn't believe what she was holding.

"Whoa! Is that a Greased Lightning Chaser Special?" said Ron, awed.

"Um, yeah," Ginny said, peering disbelievingly at the brass plaque, "er, that seems to be what it says."

Harry, Ron and Hermione had walked over from their seats.

"Here's a note from Fred and George," Ginny said, reading the note. She then read it out loud.

Dear Sis,

With the Weasley family honor at stake, we couldn't allow you fly around on that old piece of rubbish you used last year. One must uphold the sacred traditions, right? And there is no more sacred tradition than Gryffindor holding the cup at the end of the year.

Your Loving Brothers,
Fred and George

P.S. As much as we were tempted to put a little surprise on the broom, it's clean. No sense delaying your practice time, right?

"Great Merlin! Those two gave me a broom? A professional broom?" Ginny said incredulously.

"That's a beautiful broom, Ginny. I'm happy for you," said Hermione, smiling at her.

Ginny nodded happily. As she looked at her new broom, stroking it in disbelief, Harry could see Hermione giving him a fishy eye. He carefully avoided her glance as he joined Ron in looking closely at it. A crowd of people had started to join around them.

"Wicked! There's no way we can lose, now," Ron said enthusiastically.

Harry could see Malfoy across the room sending poisoned looks at the new broom. Harry smirked, agreeing silently with Ron that Quidditch this year should be very interesting. He could hardly wait to get back on his broom after sitting out much of the season last year.

Ginny put the broom in the center of the table so everyone could get a good look at it.

"What do you think, Harry?" Ginny said, as they stood a bit away from the crowd.

"Congratulations! It should be perfect for you. I've read that these brooms are top ranked in the latest Which Broomstick for Chaser play," he said.

Harry noticed that Ginny had some tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said, swiping at her tears. "You probably think I'm silly."

"No, it's all right," Harry said, a bit touched.

"It's just that - I've never owned anything nice like this before, and I was so worried about the old broom, I didn't know if I could make the team with it, and... sorry again. I'm running off at the mouth," she said, smiling wetly.

Harry smiled back at her. "It's a great broom. You deserve it. You played fantastically last year, even with the old broom, and this year you'll play even better."

"It is a nice broom, isn't it?" she said. She paused, and then a look of curiosity crossed her face. "In fact, it's a very nice broom. I mean, I knew Fred and George were doing really well, but not this well."

Harry could see the gears turning in her head; her line of reasoning heading into very dangerous waters.

"Erm," Harry broke in quickly, "so when are you going to try it? We should give it a workout and see how it does. I can bring the Firebolt, and I'm sure Ron wants to see it in action, too."

"That would be great! I can't wait to try it. Maybe this afternoon after classes?" asked Ginny.

"All right," Harry said.

Harry walked back to finish his breakfast, feeling very pleased about the whole thing. He was very glad that he had decided to do it. He looked over at Ginny, who was looking at her new broom with pride and excitement as she displayed it to more curious students.

After finishing his cereal, he looked back down the table. Ginny was giving him a very odd look with her jaw hanging open slightly. When she saw him looking back, she quickly closed her mouth and looked down at her own breakfast. He thought he could see a bit of a blush running up her neck.

Oh no, she suspects something, he thought with a sinking feeling, and then felt his own face heating up. He desperately tried to force it back down to no avail. He glanced down the table as she looked back at him again. Her eyes seemed to widen as she saw the blush on his face, and she quickly looked down again.

Harry groaned to himself. Well, she doesn't know anything for certain, he thought, as he got up from the table. He hoped she wouldn't ask Fred and George too many questions.

* * *

Harry, Hermione and Ron walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, now relocated down in the dungeons. It was a rather large room, with a dueling arena off to one side as well as large variety of defense devices stacked neatly on shelves. Harry was impressed despite himself. Apparently Snape had decided to make a big impression in his new position; his Potions classroom had never seemed as well stocked.

Although the class was obviously intended to teach a different subject, there was no doubt it had a Snape-ish flavor. The room had nothing that was not essential to teaching the subject. Even Snape's podium seemed built to strictly utilitarian standards.

Harry felt extremely tense. Defense was his subject, and Snape felt like a foreign invader. He didn't know how this year was going to go; all he knew was that his days of taking abuse from Snape were over.

Oddly, Snape's criteria for accepting students in Advanced Defense were less strict than what he required for Potions. He accepted any grade from Acceptable upwards.

They found some seats in about the middle of the room. Harry's anxiety continued to grow as more students filed in and took seats. Since fewer students took the advanced studies, the class included sixth years from all the houses. Harry had never taken classes with many of the students, and he noticed they were giving him curious glances.

Snape suddenly walked into the classroom, and a silence immediately descended upon the room. He took his post at the podium at the front of the room, slowly looking over the room, surveying the students. He began to call the role in his traditional soft voice, perfectly audible in the dead quiet of the room. Harry was oddly reminded of his first year at Hogwarts.

"So. Here you will be learning Defense against the Dark Arts. As you all know, the - competence - of this position has been extremely suspect in your previous years," Snape said, wrinkling his nose as if a bad odor had wafted through the room.

Hatred rose in Harry, thinking of Professor Lupin, who was certainly not incompetent.

"However. Today is a new day at Hogwarts for the position, and I fully intend to bring all of you up to speed. With - recent events - in mind, much of our focus will be on skills useful in dueling and combat," Snape said and paused, letting the thought sink in. "It is not an exaggeration to say that your life may depend on paying attention in this class. I suggest you not disappoint me.

"Some of you will certainly need more - remedial work - than others," Snape said smoothly, looking at Neville. The Slytherins started sniggering.

"And others among you undoubtedly have a higher opinion of yourselves than you should," Snape said, curling his lip at Harry as he said it. Harry glared back at him, refusing to back down, as he heard the Slytherins now outright laughing. Snape held Harry's stare for several seconds.

"Potter! What is the best defense against a Cavendish Bludgeoning spell modified with a thirty degree wand twist?" Snape said suddenly.

Harry thought he could see Hermione's hand twitching and wanting to rise, but she held back.

Harry looked defiantly at Snape. "Well, sir, there are a few schools of thought on that. The thirty degree wand twist gives the spell additional power, but the extra movement can tip off your opponent to your intention. Watson recommends using Protego with a wand flick. Wilkinson, on the other hand, likes a more offensive approach where a Specula charm can reflect and aim the spell back at the opponent. Both have their advantages and disadvantages, of course. Watson's method is quick and more reliable, with a greater chance of full deflection. Wilkinson is more risky, but with proper practice one can aim the return spells quite accurately. My personal opinion is that the correct method depends on the circumstances; number of opponents, battle terrain -"

"Enough!" Snape cut him off, then smiled coldly. "One point for Gryffindor. And five points deducted for showing off."

"What!" said Ron with outrage. "You foul..."

"Ron!" Hermione hissed at him.

"Another ten points from Gryffindor," Snape said. Ron looked like he wanted to say more. "And don't make me take off another fifty, Mr. Weasley."

Ron clenched his fists, fuming, but said no more. Harry sat back, feeling satisfied. Even the deduction of points couldn't dampen Harry's mood. He knew he should make his expression more neutral and not provoke Snape further, but he couldn't help it. Looking at the expression of total hatred on Snape's face, he suspected that Snape would find a way to make Harry pay for showing him up.

"Today," Snape continued, "we will begin with Bludgeoning spells, which are quite effective in duels and battles. They can be launched quickly, can be aimed extremely accurately, and can be difficult to deflect when cast by a skilled dueler."

Snape's expression changed suddenly and his lip curled up slightly into a smirk. "Potter!"

Harry felt a stab of nervousness. He did not like the look on Snape's face. Not at all.

"You appear to know so much about the defense of these spells. Perhaps you'd care to demonstrate for the rest of the class," Snape said smoothly. "Please join me in the dueling area."

Harry could feel every eye in the room on him as he got up from his chair and walked over to the side of the room where the dueling arena was set up. He was feeling extremely nervous. He'd had precious little use of any magic recently, much less full defensive spells. He looked around at the other students. The Slytherins were whispering to each other with huge grins on their faces. Ron looked hopeful, and Hermione looked frightened, her hands wringing in her lap. He noticed Parvati sitting behind his seat with a very large smile on her face. She had apparently been sitting behind him and he hadn't noticed.

He looked back at Snape, who had an expression of pure loathing on his face. Harry pulled out his wand. He knew he needed to pull himself together, but everyone watching him was making him very edgy and anxious.

Harry had barely raised his wand when Snape shouted without warning, "Everbero!" To Harry's shock, he used the wand twist, normally a very powerful spell.

"Protego!" Harry shouted, but it was too late. The spell hit him full in the chest, throwing him across the room. He slid on the hard mat, coming to a stop. He rolled over painfully, and felt the side of his body. A sharp pain stabbed through his side, which made him suspect that he had a broken rib.

The Slytherins were shouting with braying laughter. As Harry peered back at Snape, he could see a look of satisfaction on his face.

"Do you need the hospital wing, Potter?" asked Snape, who sounded almost hopeful.

Although Harry felt he probably did need it, he would be damned if he would admit it to Snape. "No, I'm fine," he said through gritted teeth.

"Return to your seat, then," said Snape.

As Harry walked painfully to his seat, still hearing the Slytherins mocking him, Snape said, "Apparently fame isn't everything."

* * *

"That greasy git!" Ron said, still fuming after the Defense class. Ron and Hermione were helping Harry toward the Hospital Wing after class. The rest of the class had been difficult, as Snape had everyone pair off and practice shield spells. Harry's movement had been very restricted, and he found it difficult to fully block the spells. Every quick movement caused a stab of pain in his side.

They walked into the infirmary, where they saw Madam Pomfrey seated at her desk. "Well, Mr. Potter. Didn't take long for you to come visit me this year, did it?" she said.

Madam Pomfrey clucked over Harry's injury as she quickly healed the broken bone. She told him that he had to sit still for fifteen minutes and then could leave.

"Erm, Harry, maybe you shouldn't provoke Snape quite that much," said Hermione nervously. Harry glared at her.

Hermione continued quickly. "Now, I don't mean that you did anything wrong today, and Snape definitely shouldn't have hit you with that strong of a spell, but..."

"But, what?" Harry demanded.

"Well, I'm just saying that maybe you should be a little - careful."

"I am not going to back down from him," Harry said angrily.

"Ron! What do you think?" Hermione said.

Ron looked startled. "Uh, well, I think Harry should handle it the way he thinks is best," he said uncomfortably. Hermione glared at him, and Ron looked away.

Harry sighed. "All right, all right. I'll try and control myself. No promises, though."

Hermione gave him a worried look, but decided to leave it at that.

* * *

Harry stopped, stunned, in the door of the new Potions classroom, almost causing Ron and Hermione to run into the back of him. He slowly continued walking in, looking about the room in shock.

If Professor Melanadray herself was as different from Snape as possible, her classroom matched that dynamic as well. The sun was streaming through the windows, bathing the room in a bright, cheerful glow, a startling contrast to the old Potions classroom located in the dungeons. Even the vials of potions on the well-stocked shelves seemed to be a brighter shade of color. Where Snape's classroom had contained the bare essentials for teaching within the cold gray stone of the walls, Melanadray had hung warmly colored wall rugs.

Harry distractedly followed Hermione toward a seat. He was so used to the subject of Potions being a cruel experience that the new room almost seemed like a surrealistic dream. He didn't seem to be alone in the thought as he noticed the other students looking around with wide eyes of shock, even the Slytherins.

Ron snickered. "I wish I could see Snape's reaction to this. Can't you just imagine him curling that lip as he looked at this room?"

Harry and Hermione laughed. "Well, he did handpick the new professor, so it's his own fault," said Hermione. She looked approvingly around the room. "I like it."

"It's better than Snape's old room, but it's a tad, er, feminine for my tastes," Ron said, looking at a soft pink-colored wall rug showing a scene of some happy baby dragons playing.

The new Professor walked into the room and took her place at the front of the classroom. If she had seemed pretty from across the Great Hall the other night, she was positively stunning close up. Harry and Ron looked at each other, seeming to share the same thought. Ron coughed a bit as he caught a glare from Hermione.

"Hello everyone, my name is Professor Melissa Melanadray, and I'll be teaching the subject of Potions. Of course, I know that many of you will probably miss Professor Snape as the Potions teacher, but I'll try and fill his shoes as best I can," she said, smiling.

Harry and Ron exchanged another glance with eyebrows raised.

As she began to call the role, Harry pulled out his Potions textbook, which he was going to share with Ron. Since Ron hadn't scored an Outstanding OWL in Potions, he didn't purchase a textbook. Ron had owled Mrs. Weasley to pick up the textbook on her next trip to Diagon Alley.

"Potter, Harry," she called, startling Harry out of his thoughts.

"Uh, here," Harry said.

She gave him a warm smile. "Yes, of course you are," she said, making a mark next to his name.

As she began her lecture, Harry found himself nervous for entirely different reasons than he'd felt in the past with Snape. He tried to pay attention, but he kept wondering exactly why she seemed to look at him so knowingly.

She finished the lecture, and Harry began putting together his ingredients. It was a rather complicated potion; just the kind of thing that was easy to get wrong if one didn't pay attention. He was about to add a certain ingredient when Professor Melanadray came up behind.

"Whoa there, Mr. Potter, you want the pickled spider hair," she said.

Harry blinked at her. The whole idea of a helpful Potions teacher was even more bizarre than anything he'd seen yet.

She lightly touched his shoulder and leaned over him to pick up a vial. "I think this is what you want," she said, looking him in the eye and smiling. He gulped. He hadn't realized how blue her eyes were.

Except for that one little hiccup, Harry felt like it was one of the easiest Potions lessons he'd ever had. Not having Snape glowering over him gave him a wonderful sense of freedom. He finished the potion with a confident flourish and put it in a bottle for marking.

At the end of class he walked up to the front and added his potion to the others. "That looks perfect, Mr. Potter," she said, beaming at him. Harry couldn't help but blush at the praise.

As they walked out of the classroom, Ron said, "Wow. That was different."

"Yes, I agree. And she really seems to know her subject!" Hermione said excitedly. Unlike Snape, Professor Melanadray seemed to welcome questions, the more the better. This was heaven for Hermione, who had a seemingly endless list of questions.

"I think she took a bit of a fancy to you, Harry," said Ron, smirking.

Ron imitated her voice, speaking in a sultry, breathy tone. "I think this is what you want," he said, batting his eyes at Harry.

"Shut it, Ron," Harry said, irritated. "She was nice to everyone."

"Not like she was to you," he said.

"Come on, let's go get some lunch," Harry said grumpily.

"Good idea," said Ron. "We have our first Transfiguration this afternoon, and I don't want to face McGonagall on an empty stomach."

"Is there anything you want to face on an empty stomach, Ron?" said Hermione.

Ron shot her a grin. "Good point."

That afternoon, they headed to McGonagall's Advanced Transfiguration class, which like most of the advanced classes, had all four houses in the same class. As Harry looked about the room, he noticed a short, skinny boy waving at Hermione. She smiled at him and walked over as Ron and Harry took seats.

Harry looked over at Hermione curiously. "Who's that Hermione's talking to?" he said.

Ron glared at Joseph. "Aw, some Ravenclaw bloke she met at the bookshop when we bought our school stuff," he said gruffly.

"Oh," Harry said vaguely and began to dig his Transfiguration book out of his bag.

"Don't like the looks of that one," Ron said, casting another malevolent look toward the two.

"What? What's wrong with him?" Harry said, looking up and peering across the room. "He's supposed to be pretty smart, actually."

Ron glared at him. Harry said quickly, "Oh, uh, well, not that smart, of course. Yes, you're right, he looks a bit ... erm, ..."

"Exactly!" Ron said, nodding and frowning. "Can't be too careful nowadays, right?"

"Erm," Harry said.

"Bloody git tried to get her to study with him at the bookshop. She said yes to humor him, but she'll be too smart to fall for that ploy, though," Ron said.

"Erm," Harry said, watching Hermione looking interested in something Joseph was saying.

Just then Professor McGonagall walked into the classroom and Hermione scurried to her seat next to Ron and Harry.

As McGonagall taught the lesson, Harry noticed Ron glancing over to Hermione and shooting glares at the back of Joseph's head. Ron seemed to grow more and more fidgety as the hour wore on, until Harry felt like casting a rope spell to tie him to his chair. Mercifully the class finally ended; Harry breathing a sigh of relief.

Joseph smiled at Hermione as he walked out of the class, and Hermione gave him a shy smile back.

"What'd he want, earlier?" Ron asked Hermione suspiciously, as they began to gather up their books.

"Oh, er," Hermione said, blushing a bit. "He just wanted to say hello."

"Seemed to take quite a while to just say hello," Ron said mulishly.

Hermione looked irritated. "Just what is your point, Ron?"

Harry put his hands to his temples and began rubbing.

"He didn't ask you to study with him, did he?" Ron asked accusingly.

"What business is it of yours, Ron Weasley?" she said, throwing her bag over shoulder angrily. She began to walk out of the class.

"I'm just... you are, aren't you? You're meeting him later!" Ron called to her retreating back.

Ron picked up his own books moodily. "Barking mad," he said under his breath.

* * *

Ron sat alone in the common room, looking at his large pile of homework. Harry had gone off to study in Dumbledore's library, and Hermione had walked out without even talking to him. He sighed, wondering what he was going to do about her.

What's wrong with me? he thought. The summer had gone by so fast, and he was still no closer to figuring out Hermione's feelings toward him. He thought back to the scene at the lake, which had been a perfect time. He balled up his fists and pounded himself on the head, not for the first time since then.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! he thought. Why didn't he do something then? He should have just talked to her straight away. But how do you talk about something like that? He needed some kind of signal. What exactly that signal looked like he had no clue.

And now that Krum was out, this bloody git Joseph was in. Did Hermione really like that little, skinny twit?

You know that Hermione would go for the smart blokes, he thought morosely. But didn't I get eight bloody OWLs? I'm not an idiot.

Thinking about his grades led him thinking about the other issue in his life. His scoring eight OWLs had not only been a shock to him, but he thought it might have been a shock to McGonagall as well. He had alluded to perhaps becoming an Auror to her last year at his career meeting, which had caused her to raise her eyebrows a bit, but she had dutifully filled him in on what it would take. His OWL results had been just good enough to get him into the classes required, particularly since Snape was now the Defense teacher.

He had done a lot of thinking after his OWL results had come in; it had almost felt like a second chance. He had never been the most serious of students, and Hermione had needed to push him more than once in the past years. But now he had an actual shot, a real shot, at being an Auror.

He looked over at the Portrait hole, wondering where Hermione went off to. He grumbled as he read another few pages of his textbook, but it was difficult to concentrate.

I bet she went to the library with that git, he thought. He was getting more and more antsy and finally decided he'd never be able to concentrate unless he figured out where she was.

He closed his books, went up to the dorm and dropped off his school work. He walked down the Tower stairs and out the portrait hole, feeling annoyed with the entire concept of Ravenclaw. Bunch of bloody arrogant gits, he thought. Well, Luna is all right, he thought grudgingly.

He came up to the library door. He knew that Hermione normally sat towards the back where she was closer to the books, but he wasn't sure she would stick to her normal routine. He eased open the door a crack and peeked in.

He saw Hermione sitting at her normal table, with Joseph sitting next to her. Ron's face pinched into a scowl, looking at the two of them. Couldn't they sit across from each other? he thought, peeved.

Well, Weasley, now you know. Hermione is studying with him, he thought. Part of him was telling himself that he should head back to the Gryffindor Tower, but another part surged strongly. He needed to see her face, to see if she was enjoying sitting with the puny git.

He paused again, hand in front of the door, considering his options. If Hermione catches me, I'll be in big trouble, he thought nervously. Suddenly he grasped the door and eased it open slowly. He peered around the door, and the two of them were still sitting with their back toward him. There were shelves of books that he could hide behind and see what was going on.

Just a quick peek, and then I'll leave, he thought.

He tiptoed through the door, closing it gently. The library was fairly empty this time of night and was dead quiet. He walked quietly past Madam Pince, seated at her desk, who barely registered him passing as she reviewed a large stack of checkout cards.

He turned down one of the book aisles, now out of visual sight of Hermione and Joseph. He walked down the aisle until he came to the opposite library wall, and then walked down along the wall, parallel to the two. He stopped at the aisle that was next to their table. This was the most dangerous spot, where they could potentially see him out of the corner of their eye. Ron peeked around the corner, and both of them seemed to be working. Taking a large step, he quickly moved across the aisle to the opposite bookshelf.

He waited for a long few seconds for any sort of sign of recognition, and all seemed to be quiet. He smirked a bit. Ha! The Weasley sneakiness comes through, he thought.

He walked down a few more shelves and then walked down an aisle where he could see their faces if he peeked through the shelves. He pulled out a couple of books from his side, and then carefully pulled a few books out from the other side, giving him a view of the two. He could see them each working on some sort of essay. Hermione didn't look unusual; if anything, she might as well have been studying by herself.

He watched her for several minutes, and was about to put the books back and head out when Joseph spoke up.

"I'm really glad we're studying together," he said a bit shyly.

I'll just bet you are, Ron thought, his annoyance rising with every second. He briefly felt guilty about eavesdropping, but he had to know what Hermione was going to say.

"It's, er, unusual that I study with someone who enjoys it so much," Hermione said.

I like studying! Ron thought. Well, maybe not in the first few years... all right, maybe not so much before now, but, er, I don't complain nearly as much...

"It was fun discussing that Potions essay with you. Your essays are always so well researched," Joseph said.

"Oh, well, your essay was very well done, too," Hermione said, flattered.

Sometimes I like discussing our essays! Ron thought. Well, usually when you check my answers, but...

Joseph seemed to grow very nervous. "Erm, Hermione, can I ask you a, well, personal question?"

Hermione seemed to grow nervous as well. Ron's eyes narrowed, and his fists began to open and close of their own accord.

"All right, what is it?" Hermione asked.

"Um, do you have a boyfriend?" Joseph asked, his eyes darting around, looking anywhere but Hermione.

Tell me that runt isn't hitting on her, Ron thought furiously. He wondered exactly how much pressure it would take to snap his neck in half.

"Well," Hermione said and paused. "No. No, I don't."

Ron's heart felt like someone had just pulled it out of his chest, stomped on it, and shoved it back in. Hermione's face had an odd expression that Ron couldn't identify.

Joseph smiled slightly. "I mean, I was just wondering, because you hang around so much with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley."

"They're my best friends," she said.

Never had the word 'friend' sounded so awful to Ron.

Joseph nodded awkwardly. "Um, so what do you think of this paragraph?" he said, as he passed his essay over to her. Hermione looked delighted that someone was asking her opinion as she read the passage in question.

Ron carefully replaced the books in the shelves and sneaked out of the library without being seen. As he walked along the corridor towards Gryffindor Tower, he considered what he just saw. So Joseph the Runt thinks he's going to move in, does he? he thought angrily. I'll show Hermione that he's not the only one that likes studying.