The Brethren of Tyr

Chapter Seven: A Class of Their Own

Harry and Ron wandered down to breakfast in the Hall, where Hermione was already sitting, scrutinising a book whilst she ate her cornflakes. As Harry got closer, he could see it was one of the set texts for Transfiguration.

"Last minute swotting, eh?" Ron asked. Hermione stared at him with an ugly mixture of horror and disgust.

"No, I'm just looking at this one chapter again that I was reading over the holidays. It's really rather interesting!" she announced, haughtily. Ron laughed and raised his palms in mild rebuke.

"All right, all right, you needn't look at me as though I just asked you if you got off with Malfoy!" he retorted. Harry simply sat down and helped himself to some pumpkin juice.

"What's your timetable like for today, Hermione?" he asked, whilst buttering some toast. Hermione turned to face him.

"Well, I've got double Arithmancy next, then double Potions with you two, a break, then double Defence Against the Dark Arts," she replied. Ron groaned.

"What is it with all these doubles we've got?" he asked nobody in particular.

"That's what the N.E.W.T.s are all about," Hermione informed him. "All our lessons are doubles in order to give us enough time to have a proper lesson. I must say I'm rather looking forward to it!"

"I must say you're rather bonkers!" Ron remarked. Hermione gave him the infamous raised-eyebrow-glare, to which he shrugged apologetically and began messily eating his porridge.

Through a mouthful of toast, Harry chanced a look at Hermione's unopened copy of The Daily Prophet, which had an article on the recent 'breakouts' from Azkaban.

...Yet another break out from the infamous Azkaban prison has occurred, where two more Death Eaters have escaped. The ministry urges the wizarding public not to panic, but even with the Dementors guarding the place day and night, the ministry has had to deal with the escape of the infamous Sirius Black, who murdered thirteen muggles with a single curse back in 1981, and the later, more clandestine disappearance of Faith Hamilton, who was held for causing the death of Ryan Mitchell, then a member of the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures committee, just under two years ago. Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic said in a statement yesterday, 'These escapes are all under heavy investigation- rest assured, our best Aurors are searching for these convicts and the public are in no immediate danger, although they ought to remain on their guard in such troubled times as these'...

Harry felt himself go hot with anger, and so stopped reading the paper. Hermione noticed his expression.

"What's the matter?" she asked. Harry pointed at the paper, which she immediately picked up to read, with Ron craning over her shoulder. She frowned as she read.

"Well, it's nice to know they're so confident! I'd imagine they know Sirius will pose no threat," she replied, bitterly. This show of aggression from Hermione served to comfort Harry in a bizarre way.

"I remember dad mentioning Ryan," Ron remarked. "Says he was a really nice chap, very tolerant towards people with dangerous pets- a bit fond of them himself, apparently. Much like Hagrid in that respect."

Harry nodded silently; wishing he hadn't seen that article, for it proved the Ministry would never pardon Sirius.

Ginny came rushing into the Great Hall, red hair flapping behind her and sat down next to them, happily helping herself to Ron's toast. Ron tried to protest, but he had yet to swallow his last mouthful of porridge, so the protestation that emerged was more muffled than he'd probably hoped.

"Hi, everyone!" she gasped, taking a bite of Ron's former toast. "What's up?"

Hermione relayed the story in the paper to Ginny, who screwed up her face in disgust.

"You'd think they'd say something!" she cried.

"They did," Harry remarked darkly, "They aren't going to pardon him..."

"Harry, don't say that!" Hermione soothed, "There's every possibility..."

"Yeah," Ron remarked, "Every opportunity if we get a new Minister of Magic, because Fudge is never going to admit he made a mistake. Like that's going to happen," he finished, gruffly. Ginny suddenly smiled.

"Here, I forgot to mention- I heard McGonagall and Snape bickering in the corridor on my way here. I hid behind a statue to catch what they were saying..."

Ron almost spat out his pumpkin juice in shock.

"Ginny! What were you thinking?" he asked, horrified.

"I was thinking I felt nosey," she laughed. "Like you wouldn't have done the same. Anyway, don't you want to hear it?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat up eagerly. Confident that she had an engrossed enough audience, Ginny continued.

"They were arguing over Professor Beauchamp. Apparently Snape couldn't find her this morning, or something, and McGonagall was saying she'd merely gone for a run, commented on her being an 'energetic young woman', I think was the phrase she used. Snape just huffed and said 'She'd just better be energetic enough to handle an O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. class today'. He sounded really disparaging of her."

"Yeah, but that's Snape for you," Ron replied though a mouthful of his remaining toast. "He's hated all the Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers!"

"But they've mostly been incompetent, frauds or Voldemort's underlings," Hermione added, absently.

"What about Lupin?" Ron retorted.

"Childhood vengeance," Harry added. Ron seemed to accept this, but Hermione shot him a look that suggested she hadn't forgotten his hastily brusque conversation concerning Snape in Diagon Alley the day before last. He thought it prudent to help her forget.

"I thought he'd only met her yesterday?" Harry asked.

"Well," Hermione began, "I'd rather think, seeing as he's been after the Defence Against the Dark Arts job since he started here, he might be a little ticked off that Dumbledore has hired a young, most likely inexperienced teacher to take the job over him."

Ginny looked at her watch and gave a sharp gasp.

"Well, I'll let you know how inexperienced she is in two hours, bye!" she said, whilst scraping her chair back and heading towards the first floor classroom.

Harry felt himself dragging his feet down the stairs to the dungeons- the last thing he wanted for a first lesson was Potions. One look at Ron's glum face confirmed he was not alone. Sadly, his feet-dragging days were looking to be numbered, as Hermione caught up with him, fresh from her Arithmancy class.

"Hello, Harry, Ron, all set?" she asked, breezily. Ron shot her a glance,

"Oh yeah, I can hardly wait," he replied, sarcastically. Hermione ignored him.

"Well, we'll have a much smaller class this year, I'd imagine," she explained, "Snape only takes on students who get Outstanding grades at O.W.L. level..."

"Oh, whoop de doo!" Ron exclaimed in mock delight, "so statistically we'll be more likely to have him breathing down our necks at every opportunity." He shook his head and sighed. "This just gets better and better!"

They shuffled into the classroom, and Harry was disappointed to find Draco and Pansy sitting next to each other at the front of the class.

"Great, that's all I need," Harry grumbled. Ron looked at him.

"Come on, you know how much Snape favours Malfoy- it's no surprise he'd take a class that he's teaching."

"True," Harry replied, as they sat down at a desk together. Hermione sat behind them with Terry Boot, who seemed quite happy to have her as a potions partner.

"Well, if you're as good at Potions as you are at Charms, we'll be laughing!" he exclaimed, enthusiastically.

"I don't think there's any class she isn't good at, Terry," Ron affirmed, as he looked over his shoulder at the two.

"Here," Terry whispered conspiratorially, "are we starting, you know, the DA again this year?"

Ron looked at Harry, who shrugged,

"I reckon we should see what this new teacher's like first. But there's no reason why we can't practise stuff anyway, I guess," he added. Terry seemed happy with this.

"We might need it- that woman's very young to be teaching something like Defence Against the Dark Arts," he confided. Hermione stared at him.

"Lets just wait until we have a lesson before we start judging her," she suggested. Harry couldn't help but smile as Terry took her at her word almost immediately, having evidently decided Hermione was the source of all wisdom after the N.E.W.T. level Protean charm she cast last year.

A quick glance to his right, and Harry saw Draco staring at them. He stared back, and eventually Draco gave up and turned his attention back to Pansy and their pestle and mortar. He was starting to find Draco's attempts at intimidation almost amusing, or rather, would if they weren't so annoying. Harry hoped he hadn't taken all the same classes as him, but something told him that every school child would have been forced to take Defence Against the Dark Arts this year, whether they chose to at N.E.W.T. level or not.

Snape slammed the door of the cold classroom and stalked the length of the room, before turning on his heel and facing the class.

"Well, the last five years will seem like cookery class compared to your next two studying potions. You have barely scratched the surface in both theory and practical application; this N.E.W.T. course will consolidate and deepen your existing knowledge... Which is variable within the class, to say the least." He gave Harry a brief, cold glance at this point, at which Harry felt himself begin to colour up in anger, though he fought to control it. He would not let Snape get the better of him.

"Of course," he continued, "this should not be below your capabilities, as all of you have achieved Os in your Potions O.W.L. Whether this was a fluke or not remains to be seen."

Harry simply stared ahead of him, refusing to even look at Snape at this point, so if he glanced at him at this conjecture too, he never did find out.

"This lesson," Snape continued in his cold smooth tones, "will be a chance for you to brew the Elemental Protection draught, one of the more technical potions. It requires a great deal of thought and accuracy, as it produces a characteristically... Mr. Weasley."

Ron jumped in his seat.

"Unless Miss Granger has somehow become the new Potions Master without my knowledge, I suggest you face the front of the class. Five points from Gryffindor for not paying attention," he remarked, in almost exactly the same tone, save for the last three words, which were said with an added emphasis that served to make the remonstration more threatening. Ron did as he was told, though not without an air of resentment.

"As I was saying, the Elemental Protection Draught has a characteristically pleiotrophic effect. Which would be...?"

He left the statement hanging, and it was evident he expected a reply. Harry glanced around and saw Hermione look nervously around the class, then upon seeing nobody else offer an answer, put her hand up. Harry hoped they, like him, were still trying to fathom what 'pleiotrophic' meant.

"Anyone other than Miss. Granger?" he asked, in a bored tone. Nobody offered, so Snape sighed and nodded towards Hermione.

"It causes the effects of skin thickening and dulling of pain receptors to occur simultaneously, leaving the user protected from being harmed by fire, liquid nitrogen and some burning potions," she replied.

Snape made no response, and merely carried on his description, which of course meant Hermione had got the answer spot on. He pointed his wand at the blackboard, which scribbled out a list of instructions and ingredients in white chalk.

"Right, now get on with it!" he barked, and the class jumped to attention.

Harry heard Terry say, "golly, he didn't even acknowledge you answered that question!" to Hermione, who replied, "well, he never does."

"Really? He's always said at least something to the Ravenclaws. Maybe he's just used to you knowing the answer," Terry laughed, quietly.

"Yeah, maybe," Harry heard Hermione reply, but her voice was oddly bitter.

Ron was busy dissecting their lacewing flies, but was able to multitask sufficiently to keep up a quiet conversation with Harry.

"He's a git, isn't he?" he said, vehemently. "No wonder Hermione's fed up- I mean, did you even know what 'pleiotrophic' meant?"

Harry shook his head in response. Ron breathed a sign of relief.

"Have you done those Poison Dart frog glands yet?" he asked, after a while. Harry handed over his neatly cut glands bored from the frog skin and Ron added them to the cauldron, followed by some ground crab shells. It hissed and bubbled while the two boys inspected it.

"Harry," Ron asked, "do you think it's supposed to turn purple?"

Harry looked up at the board, which specifically stated 'A deep blue colour is to be expected once the ground crab shells have been added'.

"No, but we're pretty close!" he replied, surprised at their efforts.

Snape was doing his usual tour of the classroom, scrutinising everyone's efforts.

"Define close, Potter?" he asked, darkly. "If by close you mean the difference between it protecting you from fire and it setting you on fire, then congratulations. Otherwise, I suggest you bother to look at the blackboard and try to remember when you added the lace-wings."

Harry glanced surreptitiously at the pile of dissected lacewing flies sitting on Ron's desk, and he was sure Snape must have noticed them.

"Yes sir," Ron mumbled as courteously as he could manage, which Harry knew from years of being friends with Ron, meant he was supremely irritated.

"I want a two foot essay from both of you describing the importance of following crucial instruction in regards to the potion on my desk by the next lesson," he drawled in a low voice, before walking towards Hermione and Terry, stopping a moment then continuing to walk on in silence. Harry heard Terry breathe an audible "Phew!".

Harry heard Snape remark, "Not bad, Draco. Now, tell me where you went wrong," in response to Draco's potion, which admittedly was sky-blue, though Harry doubted Hermione would have got off so lightly had hers turned out the same. Draco slapped his hand to his head and moaned something about the consistency of ground crab-shells, which seemed to satisfy Snape enough to ensure he didn't make him write an essay on the importance of following crucial instruction in regards to the Elemental Protection draught. Draco glanced across at Harry and Ron and smirked. Ron scowled back.

"He's such a brown-noser!" he fumed, which caused Harry to snigger. Unfortunately, it appeared Draco had heard Ron's outburst, for as soon as Snape's back was turned, he aimed a quiet 'effervo' spell at Harry and Ron's cauldron before they had chance to block it.

Their cauldron suddenly spewed out its entire contents over the dungeon floor, and most of their desk. However, they managed to avoid getting hit by it, save for Harry's left hand, which subsequently burst into flames. Harry deftly beat said flames out with his dragon-hide safety gloves before any real damage was done.

"What have you done now, Potter?" Snape bellowed. Harry looked straight at him.

"I didn't do anything, sir," he retorted, trying, and failing to keep the anger out of his voice. Snape glared at him.

"After five years of teaching you, I find that very difficult to believe," he snarled. "Class dismissed," he announced, and the class began to tidy up their equipment.

"Potter, stay behind to clear this mess up. You'll find some old cloths and a neutralising potion in the cupboard. Burn-healing paste is in the drawer below," he ordered, gesturing towards the student store cupboard. Harry did as he was told.

"Oh Harry," Hermione exclaimed, whilst dabbing some of the neutralising potion onto a cloth. "Do you need a hand?"

"Do such a thing, Miss. Granger and I'll take another five points from Gryffindor," Snape said coldly, without looking up from his desk. Ron looked at Hermione, who reluctantly placed the bottle of potion back on Harry's desk.

Whilst Harry was cleaning up the mess, with Ron and Hermione staunchly waiting for him, despite Snape's odious glares in their direction, he heard a small rap on the door. It was followed by the footsteps of a woman who appeared to be Professor Beauchamp. Her long French plait of black hair whipped against her back from the movement of her brisk walk into the classroom.

"Morning, Professor," she said, briskly but with a smile, one which Snape did not return.

"Well?" he asked. Somehow, she seemed able to interpret this monosyllabic response.

"It went well, actually. They're a funny class, the year five Gryffindors, very inquisitive," she replied, enthusiastically. Snape merely raised an eyebrow in response. Professor Beauchamp handed him a piece of paper in return. Snape stood up to receive it, and Harry was struck by Professor Beauchamp's apparent height. She stood almost as tall as Snape, which was tall for a man, let alone a woman.

"Here's my class list for this week; which one is most convenient for you to attend?" she asked.

"None really, but as Dumbledore insists I act as your mentor, I suppose tomorrow's year six class will suffice. You'll have had one lesson alone with them to get accustomed to their ways by then."

Harry inwardly groaned. His first week of term, and already he was going to be in the same room as Snape for two extra hours than he'd been expecting. He noticed Beauchamp return a sarcastic grin to Snape.

"I'll be sure to get you a box of chocolates in thanks, Severus," she replied as he ticked some boxes and signed a form. She looked around the dungeon room in interest, then her glance rested upon Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Oh dear, what have you three been exploding?" she asked, jokingly, as she saw a wand and cloth in Harry's hand.

"Ah yes, these are three of your year six students. Three of your most troublesome ones at that," Snape answered, maliciously. Beauchamp merely smiled.

"Oh, and they look so cute too!" she replied with a tone of irony. "What are your names? I'm Professor Beauchamp, by the way, in case you were asleep at that point of the feast," she added, offering her hand. Harry shook it.

"Harry Potter, ma'am," he replied, craning his neck a little to look at her. He became acutely aware of Beauchamp looking at the scar on his forehead, but she said nothing.

"Nice to meet you," she said. Ron and Hermione also introduced themselves.

"Ah, Weasley- are the twins that run that joke shop in Diagon Alley your brothers?"

Ron nodded in response.

"Yeah."

"Thought so, you do look similar... Hermione..." She rolled the name on her tongue as though it were a wine she was trying to identify. Then, suddenly, she smiled.

"This is going to sound odd, but you don't happen to know Victor Krum by any chance?" she asked. Hermione blushed. Beauchamp laughed richly.

"I'll take that as a yes, then. Your reputation precedes you, Miss. Granger," she finished, with a small wink.

"How do you know Krum?" Ron blurted out. Beauchamp smiled.

"We were at Durmstrang together, he was four years below me," she replied simply. "I take full credit for getting him on our house Quidditch team as a Seeker when he was in first year."

"Were you captain?" Harry found himself asking. Beauchamp laughed.

"No, but I was dating the captain at the time. I played Beater."

"Cool," Ron replied.

Snape glared across at them.

"If you don't mind, Professor, I would like my classroom back. I have my third years in here in five minutes," he snapped. If Professor Beauchamp was phased by his demeanour, she didn't show it.

"Oh, sorry, Severus, do excuse me," she replied, heading towards the door. She glanced across again at Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"See you in class this afternoon," she added, before leaving. Not wanting to incur Snape's wrath, they also made a hasty exit.

"Well, that was interesting," Ron remarked, "I wonder what Ginny made of her lesson?"

"She seemed nice enough," Hermione responded. Ron looked at her.

"Just because she knew Vicky..."

"Viktor."

Ron shrugged. Harry stifled a smile.

"I don't like the fact she was all friendly towards Snape," Ron continued. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well, he's a member of staff, she can't go around being rude about him, can she?"

"Snape does," Ron retorted.

"Yeah, but that's Snape for you," Harry replied.

"I wonder why she has a mentor?" Hermione mused. Ron shrugged.

"Beats me- because she's new?"

"None of the other new Defence teachers have had one."

"And look what happened to them!" Ron pointed out.

As they reached the Gryffindor common room, they spotted Ginny returning from her last lesson. Ron grabbed her with the force of one trying to wrestle a troll, and she squealed in surprise.

"Well, was she a freak? Was she evil?" he asked, urgently. Ginny laughed.

"Nah, she was pretty cool. Taught us about curses today; did a bit of theory at the beginning of the class, then just moved all the tables away and got us practicing counter curses and stuff! She shot a mild curse at us completely at random, and we had to use a counter curse to stop her. I thought I was in loads of trouble when I used that Bat Bogey hex, but she gave me five points for ingenuity!" she enthused. Then suddenly she began to giggle uncontrollably.

"But the weird part was, five minutes before the end of the lesson, she got us to sit in a circle, cross-legged with our hands resting on our knees and doing 'controlled breathing'. Honestly, me and Colin couldn't look at each other for laughing!"

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"That sounds very..."

"Muggle-like," Hermione responded, "as though she's studied yoga or a martial art."

"What, you mean she's an artist?" Ron asked.

"No, Ron, martial art as in an oriental fighting style using fists and feet," she answered. Ron gave her a look as though this was a very strange thing to learn. Ginny merely smiled.

"Well, she did seem quite muggle-friendly. Perhaps that's why Dumbledore really hired her, to promote tolerance and stuff?" she offered.

Harry dropped his bag onto the floor and slumped into an armchair. Ginny perched herself on the edge of his chair.

"How was Potions?" she asked. Harry groaned.

"Malfoy made our cauldron explode. Snape gave us an essay on why our potion failed."

"Still, at least we managed to fill a flask with potion and forced him to mark it. Now we can get a legitimate P grade," Ron replied, sardonically, slumping into a chair next to Harry's. Hermione remained standing up, though she placed her bag on a nearby table, and began to flick through 'Advanced Guide to Dark Arts and Counter Attacks'.

"I swear, Malfoy was staring at us for most of that potions lesson- I bet he's trying to put us off, the prat," Ron hissed. "He needs to take up a hobby that doesn't involve you."

Harry smiled darkly.

"Yeah, somehow it seems like I'm the centre of everything..."

He trailed off, as the words he wanted to say got caught in his throat. Why couldn't he tell them?

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, looking up from her book. Harry shrugged.

"Nothing," he replied, affably. He stood up and grabbed his bag by the strap.

"Where are you going?" Ron asked him.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts," Harry replied, "coming?"

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, and then grabbed their bags to follow.

"Good luck," Ginny called after them. Harry noticed she was still giggling at the memory of controlling her breathing. He had the feeling he was going to have to control more than his breathing if Malfoy kept his new act up.

Chapter Eight: Professor Beauchamp

Harry, Ron and Hermione found the door to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom wide open.

"Do you think we should just go in?" Hermione asked.

"Well, why else leave the door open?" Ron responded. Hermione seemed to see the logic in this, and followed him inside, along with Harry.

Most of the class were already there- Harry noticed to his chagrin that the Gryffindors and the Slytherins were sharing Defence Against the Dark Arts classes this year. He supposed it made sense- he couldn't imagine a single student being allowed to opt out of taking Defence at N.E.W.T. level, given Voldemort's uprising, so naturally the class sizes would be much larger than Potions had been. Sadly they hadn't been large enough to ensure they were all taught per house, as they had been in previous years, when the lesson time devoted to each subject was half the amount it was now.

"Cheer up, you might get to hex Malfoy without risking a detention!" Ron offered. Harry found that this thought did give him some savage pleasure. Ron glared across the classroom.

"Bloody Malfoy. Honestly, you'd think he's got nothing better to do than stare at us all day!"

Harry cast a surreptitious glance in Draco's direction; he was indeed looking their way yet again, though he noticed with amusement that Pansy slapped him across the arm and glared back at him, causing him to redirect his attention to her.

"First Defence lesson of the year, ooh, baby!" Dean grinned, rubbing his hands together. Neville, who was sat near him, rolled his eyes.

"Dean thinks the new professor's fit," he remarked to Harry, Ron and Hermione. Seamus, who was sat next to Dean, laughed.

"I don't get it meself, she's as skinny as a Banshee!"

As Professor Beauchamp strode into the classroom, Harry could see Seamus' point. She was only a few meals shy of gaunt, but her long black plait did add weight to the Banshee analogy, though her pale skin was not tinged green. Judging by her Oriental style black robes and matching trousers, she had indeed embraced some aspects of Eastern culture, if only sartorially. A bright red sash that tied across her waist merely enhanced her thinness, but it did match the trim on her robes, according to a snatched portion of Lavender and Pavarti's whispered conversation that Harry heard.

"Good afternoon class," she began, and the class quieted down in anticipation.

"My name is Professor Beauchamp, now, let me go through this register and start to learn your names... Brown, Lavender?"

Lavender raised her hand; Beauchamp smiled and ticked her off.

"Crabbe, Vincent?"

Crabbe put his large hand up in the air, and Beauchamp smiled, ticking him off her list as well. She went through the entire class this way, appearing to place a face to each name, as well as acknowledging having met Harry, Ron and Hermione earlier that day, asking if Neville was the one that had that 'cool Mimbulus mimbletonia' ('I saw you carrying it; they're really tricky to grow, I hear') and if Draco had found some book Snape had leant him useful ('It has pretty extensive coverage of most potion bases- I used a third edition of it for my N.E.W.T.s').

"Well, now that's out of the way, I'm supposed to give you the big 'O.W.L.s only scratched the surface; N.E.W.T.s teach you a deeper understanding' spiel, but having taken mine in the not too distant past, I'm well aware of how little attention you'll pay to it, so I won't bother," Beauchamp said. "Instead, I'm going to tell you I've been perusing your marks for the past five years. I'm glad to see everyone got at least an A in this class, though the grades on average aren't as high as I was expecting..." Harry saw her frown at some notes in her hand. "Oh dear, now I see why- who in Merlin's name did you have as a teacher last year? Dolores Umbridge... she didn't teach any practical!" Beauchamp seemed aghast that anyone would even dream of teaching an entirely theoretical Defence Against the Dark Arts class. She flicked through some other notes. "Lockhart... Oh, he was an utter prat, I don't care what he thought...Quirrel, Lupin and Moody seemed pretty fair though... right, so you've covered basic and intermediate Dark Creatures- I see Lupin got you tackling Boggarts, excellent-, basic curses and counter curses, is that correct?"

The class murmured their agreement. Beauchamp put down her notes.

"So, the general plan for this year is to build upon those areas, paying particular attention to curses, counter curses and other methods of defence, as well as their position in Ministry law. I'm also looking to cover some of the more advanced Dark Creatures, get you distinguishing some of the more inconspicuous ones and hopefully bring you into contact with some actual examples under controlled conditions, rather than just textbook pictures. Also, if any of you have any particular aspects of Defence you are interested in, let me know and I'll endeavour to cover those too, if I feel they may be beneficial to you all. Any questions?"

Draco's hand shot up.

"Professor, why is Professor Snape acting as your mentor? None of the other teachers have had a mentor," he asked, though Harry suspected he it was more because he wanted to undermine her, rather than out of personal interest. Beauchamp's expression did not change.

"Well Draco, usually I would not answer such irrelevant questions until after class, but this time I'll make an exception. I'm under the impression Professor Snape is mentoring me as he is the only other teacher here who started at the age I have, and thus has experience of particular... difficulties that I may face that older teachers are less likely to. Does that answer your question?" she asked. Draco nodded quietly, and Harry got the impression that, despite the ambiguousness of the response, it had indeed answered Draco's question, as it was the first and last time he tried to challenge her.

"Right, get your textbooks out, today we'll have a brief look at the theory behind incapacitating curses, before moving onto practicing casting and blocking some of the more basic ones," Beauchamp announced, walking along he aisles between the desks, ensuring that she was in close proximity to each student at least once in the lesson. She walked past Harry's desk, and he noticed for the first time that she had green eyes that seemed constantly alert, a little like Mad-Eye Moody's one remaining eye tended to.

"Now, can anyone tell me the Ministry's stance on the application of the malleable statue curse?" she asked. Hermione's hand predictably shot up. Beauchamp looked pleased.

"Hurrah! Somebody has looked at the recommended books!" she exclaimed. "Go on, Hermione."

"The Ministry categorise it as a class C spell- it doesn't generally carry any penalty, but if used in dangerous circumstances, the caster may get a fine of 1000 Galleons or in rare circumstances, a detention under the employment of specific Ministry departments," Hermione answered, confidently.

"Well done, five points to Gryffindor," Beauchamp replied, giving Hermione a wide smile, which caused her long nose to crinkle, accentuating the bump at the bridge. She continued to walk along the aisles.

"Now, can anyone tell me the most well-known example of malleable statue misuse?"

Hermione's hand shot up again, and Beauchamp smiled, but motioned downwards with her right hand.

"Put your hand down Hermione- make the others do some work," she replied. Hermione smiled, and did as she was told. It was a while before Neville slowly raised his hand.

"Yes Neville?"

"Erm... In Spain, a muggle was attacked with the spell during a dangerous ceremony..." He began, but clearly couldn't quite remember the details. Beauchamp seemed satisfied, however.

"Close, Neville, you got the place and the victim spot on. I'll give you two points for that. His name was Juan Arroyo Ramírez and had apparently offended a wizard by the name of Paz Covas García, who placed the malleable statue curse on him during the Running of the Bulls ceremony in Pamplona and draped a red cloth over him. Fortunately, the authorities got him away from the run before it began. Covas García was sentenced to take the bulls back across the town to their original home without the aid of his wand. Now, I'm sure you can guess that trying to shift a dozen or so agitated bulls is no mean feat, magic or no."

The class sniggered a little. Beauchamp clapped her hands together.

"Right," she announced, "I would like a volunteer, please, to demonstrate the malleable statue curse to the class."

The class looked furtively at each other.

"I won't hurt you... much," she joked, "and I will start to pick on people if I don't get any volunteers..." she glanced around the classroom. Harry nearly doubled over in shock when he saw Draco raise his hand. Pansy glanced at him in horror.

"Ah, excellent, Draco, come over here," she instructed. Draco obeyed, and walked nervously to the front of the classroom. Beauchamp smiled at him, and he seemed to relax a little. Harry, however, noticed that Pansy was still chewing her lip nervously.

"Now," she drawled, "who is going to tell me the main effects of the malleable statue curse?" Hermione hesitated, and then raised her hand. Beauchamp grinned at her.

"Go on Miss Clever clogs," she laughed. "Honestly, you're really keen! It's great!"

Hermione's cheeks coloured a little.

"The curse causes the victim to be rendered unconscious and their entire body to become paralysed like a statue, although remain in a flexible state," she answered. Beauchamp clicked her fingers at her.

"Couldn't have put it better myself. Another five points, I feel. Indeed, as Hermione has said, the curse differs from the full body-bind in that it doesn't leave the victim stiffened... Oh, for Merlin's sake, how old are we, Ron?"

Ron did an admirable job of suppressing his sniggers, which seemed to be good enough for Beauchamp.

"As I was saying, the victim's body is left flexible, which means you can actually reposition the limbs and such like. This can lead to the victim easily being put in incriminating or perilous situations by the attacker. Now then Draco, I'm going to put the spell on you- don't worry, I won't be using it as an excuse to take amusing photographs of you," she joked. Draco visibly braced himself.

"Conglacio!" she boomed, pointing her wand. A jet of blue light shot out and hit Draco square in the chest. His expression stuck suddenly and his entire body remained still. Beauchamp prodded him in the arm to demonstrate his lack of movement further.

"See- as still as a statue. But, if I just do this..." Professor Beauchamp lifted up his arm and put it above his head in a salute. It stayed in place as though he were a pose-able doll. She moved his other arm so that his hand rested on his hips. The class giggled.

"Finite Incantatum!" she boomed, and Draco was returned to his original state, slightly stunned by his current positioning.

"How do you feel?" Beauchamp asked.

"Fine, Professor," he replied.

"Good, good. You can sit down now, and five points to Slytherin for braving the unknown," she replied. Harry heard Ron grumble in his ear about it not being that hard to stand still for a bit, which made him smile, though he had to admit, Beauchamp could hardly be accused of favouritism.

At that point in the lesson, Professor Beauchamp got the class to stand in a circle, cleared away the tables with a swift 'Dimoveo', and taught them about the most effective way to block a hit from such a spell using the 'regelo' incantation.

"This will neutralise the spell in mid-air, if used correctly. If it hits your opponent, it causes a sudden burst of movement for a few moments, generally in the form of running on the spot, or dancing, or very occasionally snogging- if I don't hear 'Finite Incantatum' within five seconds of that happening, I'll dock house points," she warned.

Harry and Ron partnered up, Hermione worked with Neville. Harry noticed that Draco and Pansy were working together too- they seemed to be quite the team in class.

"Here, it's nice to be doing something a little different from our other Defence classes," Ron remarked. Harry nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, this is pretty cool for a first lesson," he added, as they moved into position and began systematically hurling the curses at each other. Harry soon noticed that the malleable statue curse was an astonishingly quick spell, and he barely blocked it with its counter curse. Ron had a go and missed, getting hit by Harry's malleable statue, whilst Harry got hit by 'regelo' and found himself surging with pent up energy that he just had to get rid of, which resulted in him doing star jumps on the spot for a whole minute.

"Right, I'd like you to swap partners now," Professor Beauchamp announced. The class looked around at each other, clearly surprised.

"Swap?" Ron asked.

"That's right, Ron. No good practicing against the same person- since when are you ever going to be defending yourself against the same individual over and over?"

"When that person's Voldemort," Harry muttered under his breath, and he saw Ron fight the urge to flinch. He found himself partnered with Hermione, but by the time the lesson was almost over, he had worked with Parvati, Dean and Neville as well.

Professor Beauchamp motioned for them to gather in a circle, clearly perplexed by something.

"What is it with you lot? Are you afraid you'll catch diseases from other house members?" she shook her head. "I'll warn you now, I'll have you all working with each other, even if I have to split you all up myself."

Lavender Brown flicked her blonde ponytail behind her shoulder and raised her hand in one smooth movement.

"Yes, Lavender?"

"Professor, surely you weren't that friendly with every single house when you were at school?" she asked, frowning. Beauchamp looked at her.

"Well, I didn't study here, so I can't honestly answer that question. At Beauxbatons, we didn't really have a house system like this one."

Hermione looked perturbed, and raised her hand.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Didn't you say earlier in Professor Snape's class that you knew Viktor from Durmstrang?" she asked. Lavender and Parvati suddenly grouped together in quiet giggles. Professor Beauchamp's expression remained neutral.

"Yes, I did. I spent five years at Durmstrang Institute and took my O.W.L.s there, then was pulled out to study for my N.E.W.T.s at Beauxbatons."

Hermione nodded in understanding, but Ron suddenly seemed more interested than he had before.

"Why did you have to change schools? Hardly anyone changes schools!"

Beauchamp shrugged.

"I don't know really. I think Karkaroff disliked me, to be honest. Can't say I care that much. I'm still astonished a prat like him ever became a Professor, much less a Headmaster. Anyway," she changed the subject abruptly, "You're studying for a N.E.W.T. in Defence Against the Dark Arts, not in Professor Beauchamp. Everyone sit down where you are... spread out a bit... perfect. Now, if you'd like to cross your legs and rest your hands against your knees, palms facing the ceiling..."

Harry's eyes widened in horror. Ginny hadn't been pulling his leg, after all.

"Erm, Professor Beauchamp? Why are we doing this?" Harry heard Seamus ask.

"To get you relaxed and calm after the lesson, so you aren't liable to attack each other in the corridors," she replied with a tone of sarcasm. "Anyway, it's good for cooling down after exercise and it's also good for your disposition."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances; then did as they were told. Ron appeared to have difficulty bending his long legs into a cross-legged position, but eventually, they were all sat in a circle looking like mini-Buddhas in training.

"Right, now, concentrate on your breathing. Take in a deep breath- one... two... three, hold- one... two... three, and exhale- one... two... three. Clear your mind of the day and think about something happy and calm. Maybe a calm blue ocean, or a lit candle, or a sale at Honeydukes..."

There was a smattering of laughter at this. Beauchamp kept them at the rhythmic breathing for the next five minutes, before officially dismissing them at the sound of the bell.

"Wow, Ginny wasn't joking," Hermione said as they left the classroom, trying not to giggle. Ron didn't bother trying not to laugh.

"Yeah, that was bloody weird, but she was a pretty cool teacher, so I reckon I'll put up with looking a right prat five minutes a lesson," he replied. Harry remained silent- he didn't really want to admit to them that he had actually been left feeling pretty good after those five minutes of silliness.

"What did you think Harry?" Hermione asked. "About the lesson?"

"Yeah, she was alright," he replied, "not quite as good as Lupin, but I reckon given time, she may well equal him."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

"That whole changing schools thing was well weird, though," Ron commented, as they descended a staircase in their quest to get to the Great Hall for dinner. Harry was bemused by this.

"Really? I thought it was normal," he replied.

Hermione agreed.

"It happens lots in muggle schools, Ron, but then that's usually because you move house and end up too far away from your old school... Which isn't really a problem for wizards, I suppose," she said.

They took a turning and ended up in the hall. Hermione walked over to where Neville was sitting; Harry and Ron followed.

"Hi guys- have you seen the notice-board?" Neville asked. Harry shook his head.

"We came straight from Defence. Why?"

"The Quidditch try-out times have been put up... Aren't you the oldest person left on the Gryffindor team now?" he asked. Harry suddenly felt as though he'd been hit sideways with a pillow- did that mean he'd be captain? Then he suddenly remembered that he wasn't the oldest person on the team after all.

"No, I'm not," he replied, "Katie Bell is in the seventh year."

"Yeah, but she's so worried about her N.E.W.T.s, she's leaving the team," Ron replied. Harry was stunned.

"What?" he asked. Ron raised his eyebrows a little.

"Yeah- heard it today. So I reckon you're now the most experienced Gryffindor player. Cool, Harry!" Ron responded, as he realised what the news meant. Hermione didn't look as excited.

"But won't the captaincy be different this year, seeing as there's just going to be one team against the teachers? I'd imagine it will go to someone like Roger Davies- he's been captain of Ravenclaw for ages, so he'd have lots of experience."

Harry's face fell. He'd almost forgotten about that. Glancing across at the other house tables, he wondered who else he'd be up against. He was fairly confident he could beat the other Seekers, but he doubted very much that he could make captain.

"Don't be such a wet blanket, Hermione!" Ron chided, "there's still a good chance Harry might make captain. So what if Davies has been Ravenclaw captain for ages, have they ever won the cup?"

Harry shrugged. He didn't really want to think about it, in case it didn't happen.

"Here," Neville asked, "what did you think of Professor Beauchamp then?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione gave their comments of approval. Neville grinned.

"It was pretty good, wasn't it? That thing at the end was bloody weird, mind."

Dean entered the conversation.

"I thought Ginny was taking the mickey when she told me! Still think she's a cute teacher, though," he added.

Suddenly, Harry became aware of a highly false cough ringing in his ears.

"Oh, do you now?" Ginny remonstrated, with a slightly playful smile on her lips. Dean shrank a little in his seat.

"Not as cute as you, obviously," he replied. Ginny laughed.

"I should think so too!"

Ron started to jab at his sausages a little more violently.

"Are we going to see Hagrid this evening? I only saw him briefly on my way to the Prefects' office on our first evening back," Hermione asked, which distracted Ron from his vicious attacks on his food.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. I just hope he's got Grawp under control," he answered, with a slightly pained look on his face.

"What about your homework, Hermione?" Harry asked. Hermione waved her hand.

"I can wait an hour or so before I start," she replied, "it's introductory week, after all. It's next week we need to get concerned about the workload."

"Yeah, that's alright for those of us who don't have extra essays from Snape," Ron grumbled. Hermione patted him on the shoulder.

"Never mind about that, you know where you went wrong, all you have to do is write it down," she soothed. Ron glared at her.

"But we don't know!" he retorted. Hermione's expression hardened.

"Yes you do. You didn't add the lacewings. That's why it went purple. And why you had a pile of lace-wings sitting on your desk," she added, with a smile. Ron exhaled deeply and moved on to bludgeoning his potatoes. Hermione huffed and turned to face her own food. Harry sighed and decided to concentrate on his fish pie, leaving them to sort it out themselves.