Chapter 2
Carpe Retractum
Harry didn't need to check his daily planner soon after he woke up because he'd been firm about what he needed to do today. He couldn't quite understand at first why he felt so strongly taken aback with what Hermione said the last time they were together. He had remembered, after an hour of thinking before falling to sleep, the reason was perhaps it was only recently that he had almost caused the death of Hermione because he refused to listen to what she tried to point out to him then. Harry had then felt as guilty as when Voldemort took advantage of that and brought him to the brink of joining up with him to escape responsibility. How stupid of him how quickly he'd take Hermione again for granted after the costly lesson he learned, he thought.
He hoped he'd meet her when he went down to the Common Room, but most of the students had already left to have breakfast at the Great Hall. Only Lavender Brown was around organizing her books for the day near the Fireplace.
"Lavender, has Hermione left already?" he asked her as soon as he landed on the Common Room floor.
"Good morning to you, too," replied Lavender, smiling. "Yeah, she went out pretty early this morning. Why, did you two have another fight or something?"
"Not really - why?" Harry said, surprised. "What happened?"
Lavender hesitated. "Well, she was mess. She kept on crying last night - wanted us to leave her alone. Poor Hermione…" Lavender shook her head and looked sincerely concerned. "I'm beginning to get worried about her…er, sanity. I couldn't forget the look on her face more than a week ago - but this time she's letting off some steam by crying it out. I guess that's a tad better than bottling it all in…"
"I thought she was hurt about something I said, but I didn't realize then until now it was that bad…" Harry said, but Lavender only shrugged. "What do you think should I do?"
Lavender stared, and rolled her eyes. "What else but the obvious…talk to her!"
"Oh, right," Harry said, feeling stupid. "Thanks."
He got out of the common room and walked toward the first place he thought he had the best chance of finding Hermione: the Library. Unfortunately, she wasn't there at all after he scoured every aisle and table. Harry then looked around for any signs of bushy brown hair outside the corridors but then Angelina Johnson, the new Quidditch captain, happened to pass by. "Great, I've been looking all over for you!" she said.
"Huh?" Harry muttered.
"Yes, you!" Angelina shot back. "I hope there are no more excuses from you, and just in case you haven't noticed, our first Quidditch match of the year was a week ago. I hadn't had time to look for a substitute Seeker and we were doomed to lose the game with the Slytherins!"
Harry wanted to point out to Angelina that it wasn't his fault the former Head Boy caused him to miss just about every class and event for the last two weeks. Angelina cut him off the moment he opened his mouth to talk.
"Yeah, I know! I know You-Know-Who captured you along with the Weasleys - I know the story quite so well I don't have time to hear the same old story all over again!" Harry was beginning to dislike Angelina quickly because at this point she seemed to be beyond reason.
"Then what do you suppose I had to do back in Xanthius?" said Harry heatedly, making Angelina jerk back a step. "Ask Voldemort" - she jumped again - "for a break from prison because I had to play Quidditch back at Hogwarts because if I didn't, you'd bite my head off? He wouldn't have wanted to get beaten up to it, I wager."
"Yes!" she said, moving back closer to Harry with her eyes widening. "Now you're thinking! You had the Weasleys with you, didn't you? You could have told You-Know-Who not to worry because you'd come back for them!"
Harry hung his mouth open in disbelief in front of Angelina - he couldn't fathom why someone as intelligent as her could ever think that anyone could hope to get a two-day pass from Voldemort using his friends as insurance.
"Angelina, what have you been eating or drinking lately?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"It's none of your business what I've been taking, Potter!" she spat, getting more irritable. "I want you to report for practice Friday night. The whole Gryffindor team will be there. If you won't, you're out of the team!"
Without waiting for a reply, she stormed through the corridor and bumped every student aside who happened to be in her way. Halfway through disappearing from sight, though, she stopped abruptly and turned back to stare again at Harry.
"No…not that. Just be there or you'll be sorry," she added and then went on her way.
Harry turned to the opposite direction quickly, placed both of his hands in his robe pockets, and kicked a leg on thin air.
"Pssst, Harry," said a voice from inside the nearest classroom that sounded like Fred or George's. "Is she gone?"
"If you're talking about Angelina, I don't care!" Harry grumbled, facing the twins.
"Yeah, me too," said George, dodging Harry's foot as he had taken another swing. "She's become so unbearable since our loss with Slytherin - can't take excuses from anyone!"
"Don't worry about it, mate," Fred said, grinning. "She doesn't have the will to boot you out…"
"That's encouraging," Harry replied sarcastically. "Friday is one day before everybody goes for the Holidays for cryin' out loud! And we're gonna have Quidditch practice? What good's it going to do? We'll all be taking on extra weight when get back from the holidays anyway. She's losing it…"
"The reason why we had to risk bumping with Angelina again to find you, Harry," George said, ignoring Harry's tirade, "is that you have something that we're both really interested on," George said.
Harry looked at both of them guardedly. "Yeah? What's it that you want?"
George cleared his throat. "It has come to our attention that you possess a pretty rare and slightly used Pocket Portkey."
"Uh, yeah," Harry, remembering the little gadget he got from Willard, the former stranger who accommodated and helped him return to the Burrow with Ron. "I bet Ron told you all about that, huh? Can't shut up about anything, he does…"
"It hurts us a great deal when we hear someone talking ill about our favorite brother," said Fred, mocking faint while George coughed. "His big mouth's proving to be very useful for the business, you know."
"And you two want it, right?" Harry asked, knowing what was coming. Fred and George said nothing but tap danced in unison in front of Harry, making him laugh at last. "Okay, just remind me before bed to give it you - it's yours! I don't need it anymore."
"Oh, thanks!" said George excitedly. "But we'll just borrow it; you never know when you'd need it again."
"Nah…" Harry started, but Fred stopped him.
"We'll return it in due time, sport."
"We never talked to you…" added George. "You never talked to us about this…"
"Huh?" said Harry.
"Lest you could be in trouble with us for industrial espionage…"
"But we'll roll out our own version for it, don't you worry."
"You're going to reverse engineer it?" Harry said with genuine interest.
"No way, that's disgraceful!" said Fred, looking scandalized but winked soon after.
"Okay," said Harry shortly. "I just want to know - have you seen Hermione anywhere?"
The twins sniggered and poked each other with their elbows. "Where else? Library…"
As soon as he heard that, Harry was already on his way back from whence he came, ignoring Malfoy who seemed to have thought of another way to ruin his day. Harry saw Hermione later on walking out of the Library door and ran towards her.
"Hermione!"
Hermione took a couple of seconds to look at Harry, but whipped around to march away from him. She was obviously avoiding him; Harry had been expecting this so he wasn't surprised. He picked up speed, overtook her, and blocked her way in the gentlest way he could possibly do.
"Hermione, please, why are you mad at me?" Harry said pleadingly, opposing her every move to bypass him. "Lavender told me you were crying the whole night. You know it breaks my heart…" At last she gave up and spoke for the first time today.
"Oh, that's nice," she said sadly, without looking Harry in the eyes. "But you don't seem to want to listen to what I say anymore."
"But I do…"
"No you don't…you're just saying that to make me feel better. Just so you know it's been getting worse every year. I can't help but think you're gradually shutting me out."
"No, that's not true, not true at all," said Harry, his eyebrows furrowing. "You've been my special friend ever since…always."
"Oh, yeah?" she said, her voice quivering. "Then why is you aren't heeding what I say? Is it because you think I'm a killjoy? Nerdy? Uncool? Miss know-it-all? Afraid I'm going to weed out the thrill out of your plans? It hurts me to think of this but you don't seem to appreciate all the effort I do all these years to make you see sense to every hasty decision you make. Because it always boils down to one thing - I don't want you hurt. I care very much for your safety, Harry…I really do!" Tears started to stream down her cheeks again.
Harry didn't know what to say yet. He knew that Hermione meant well of being against having him out of the protective walls of Hogwarts especially now they knew that Voldemort's may be really out to get him. He had him once; who said he won't do it again? However, he was not that prepared to concede since this would mean giving up on his wish to keep away from total loneliness. Harry thought the only other way to convince him to stay at Hogwarts was that Hermione or Ron would at least decide canceling their plans to go home this Christmas, but he knew it was wrong - he'd surely feel guilty about depriving his friends of a well-deserved holiday with their families. That was already out of the question.
"I've really been dreading this," Hermione went on, now staring at Harry's eyes though she was blinded with tears. "We've known each other for five years but I've been dreading the time would come I'd ask myself what am I to you." She took a deep breath and sobbed.
"No…"
"Just recently I've started to ask myself, `am I just a friend for convenience?' Or…"
"No, you're not!" Harry said hotly, so strongly that Hermione stopped talking, stared her tearful eyes at Harry with a hint of fear for a moment, and buried her face in her hands. Harry immediately regretted his sudden outburst and put an arm around her shoulder. She didn't resist, and leaned her whole weight unto Harry.
Harry let out a soft gasp that only he could hear - he felt something different for the first time ever. It was as if he wanted to press Hermione much closer to him than what was possible in the first time. They had hugged before, back at the lake days ago when they talked about Hermione's problems. It was the longest hug that Harry had ever gotten from Hermione, but it didn't strike him then. But this one was different - Harry felt he was now beginning to enjoy it. The feeling of Hermione so close to him was getting wonderful as it was getting scary. A typical boy Harry was, he struggled to act normal as if this hug was like nothing - he almost made it.
Hermione had removed her hands from her face and proceeded to wrap her arms around Harry's waist and rested her head on his chest tightly as she sobbed continuously.
Harry gasped again in surprise. Another emotion came after this second shock. He felt even more care and concern to Hermione than what we had if she hadn't hugged him. He had felt his love for his best friend slightly grow…
Hermione, meanwhile, firmly believed it was perfectly possible that Harry might die soon after he stepped out of Hogwarts; she was torn between her determination to protect him at all cost because she secretly loved him and her wish that he'd have a pretty normal and happy life (she knew how deprived Harry was of that in all of his fifteen years).
Harry, on the other hand, could not then make up his mind aside from dealing with his fresh emotions for Hermione. He hated the mere thought of spending three lonely weeks in Hogwarts all by himself, and he didn't want to give Voldemort the chance to assassinate him outside of Hogwarts either.
They had quite a big difference in sentiments at the moment!
"Oh, Harry, I-I'm so sorry…" she wept. "I'm really, really sorry…"
"It's all right, Hermione," he said, sighing and patting her back with his hand. "It's me who should be sorry…" He had just noticed that several students have passed them, and some girls were talking excitedly at a corner in hushed tones; they obviously had found a new subject for gossip.
"I came looking for you because I realized last night you meant well," Harry said. "I couldn't stand leaving you alone hurt by what I've done - whatever I did to hurt you. And…I never knew you to be this emotional…"
"Neither I was so full of myself," croaked Hermione. "It just dawned unto me. I've been so hurt and thinking about my own feelings I forgot about what you've been through all your life - and the last five years."
"Yeah, it's been a rocky ride, all right."
"I want you to be happy - you deserve to be happy. But with him out there, I-I'm so afraid you won't be allowed that, and to lose you…"
Harry took a deep long breath. Hermione really cared for him. He didn't have to use his brains to realize that, of course. Ever since they all became established friends Hermione had shown real concern to him, and at the same time Ron, but this was the very first time she ever admitted her real fears and concerns for him. Only that he'd been stupid as not to notice that every time she tells them off for just about every mischief they made - he didn't know how many times already. Ron, on the other hand, seemed to be insufferably indifferent to her, but he knew Ron had a very soft spot for Hermione, too. However, Harry knew Ron as a person who'd rather serve detention all his life rather than admit it openly.
"Voldemort's still scaring you, isn't he?" said Harry softly.
"Who doesn't?"
"Well, true," said Harry, patting her again on her back and tightening his embrace. "Dumbledore, probably. Do you want to pour out your soul on me now, I'll be all ears," he added, laughing a little to lighten her up.
Hermione took a while to decide what to answer Harry.
"I want to," she said, "but probably not for now. Can we keep this aside for a while? Maybe some other time." Hermione broke away from Harry and she wiped her wet face of tears with her hands. Harry offered her a fresh hanky and she gratefully accepted it.
"Well, if you say so… I'd yet to talk with Dumbledore about the holidays - maybe later. I'll tell you what happened then." Harry gave Hermione a tentative smile.
"Thanks, Harry," she said, blowing her nose loudly. "Whatever happens, I guess I'll just think of a way to help you through it…Oh, darn! Sorry, you're missing breakfast because of me…" she sniffed.
Just then Ron appeared around the corner and approached them. "There you are," he said, panting. "I've been looking all day for you! It's been ten minutes through breakfast and - what happened here?"
"Meet you two in the Great Hall," she said to Harry. "I'll just fix myself up at the girls' bathroom - I look so silly. I am so silly…" Harry gave her a quick grin and waved at her.
"Harry, what - "
Harry chose to avoid answering Ron directly. He still felt the tension of his embrace with Hermione coursing throughout his whole body and he needed to recover.
"Tell you all about it later," he said shakily. "C'mon, Ron, let's eat breakfast. I just heard my stomach growling."
"Have you talked to Dumbledore yet?" asked Ron while he and Harry walked briskly towards the Great Hall.
"Not yet, but I really hope he allows me to stay at the Burrow this Christmas."
"I'm sure he will, Harry," said Ron very confidently. "I still don't see any real reason why he won't. And don't let Hermione stop you…"
"Yeah, but she seems okay about it right now. I'm beginning to dread staying here this Christmas all alone with each passing minute."
As soon as they reached their seats, Harry and Ron wolfed down their eggs, bacon, and toast. Hermione arrived a little later, her eyes still red, but significantly calmer than she was minutes ago. Harry then seemed to be joyful each time he saw her and she smiled back feeling rather embarrassed.
If we're going to hug again, I won't say no, Harry thought dreamily.
At the teachers' table, Dumbledore and the entire faculty were also eating breakfast. This year's Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Rowel Russelpunk, talked animatedly with Professor Snape (who looked extremely annoyed with him). Professor Flitwick used his fork not as an eating utensil, but a makeshift wand as if he was practicing charms. Madam Hooch didn't seem to mind her breakfast; her eyes were busy scanning the ceiling as if she was expecting something until her face erupted into a big smile when the first wooshing sound reverberated in the Great Hall.
Owl post arrived at the usual time; the owls swooped down on top of their recipients to deliver their packages and mail. It never failed to generate excited talk from the students each time. As Harry had expected, he didn't see Hedwig among the flock of owls. Ron had a small package, apparently from his mother; Hermione had a few letters and a rolled parchment, which Harry recognized as the usual morning edition of the Daily Prophet. He continued eating his breakfast while the Great Hall was full of the sound of paper being ripped and parchment being unrolled, expecting nothing new from the daily ritual.
There was a moment of murmuring of letters being read, and oddly a gasp somewhere, and soon Harry was startled when he heard a scream coming from the direction of the Hufflepuff table, that was followed by a thudding sound from Ravenclaw (the recipient fainted), and weeping from the Gryffindor seventh years.
"Hermione, what's happening?" he said to her, being the first one his eyes caught, but she was looking around as bewildered as everyone else. He looked around, too, hoping someone could talk and make sense of what was happening, but nobody did; the whole Great Hall was filled with anxious and confused talk.
Professor McGonagall came walking down clumsily from the teachers' table towards the Hufflepuff girl, who was hysterically crying and was being comforted by her classmates around her. Dumbledore took off his half-moon specs and rubbed his eyes, reading something and he seemed to look very serious. Hermione had already scanned the Daily Prophet as fast as her still-red eyes could do.
"Hey, what does it say?" Ron asked anxiously. "Quick!"
Hermione turned every page of the issue.
"Nothing," she said, frowning. "Just reports of cauldrons being stolen, cooking recipes, just nothing!" She sniffed her nose.
"Then what's the meaning of all this?" said Harry, looking around still confused. "I got to know what's happening here - hang on." He stood up and walked over to Fred and George Weasley, who were part of the Gryffindor seventh years. The looks on their faces as he approached them didn't make Harry feel comfortable.
"Suzy O'Brien's parents have been murdered, I hear," said George gloomily while he watched Suzy grieving with a friend.
"By who?" said Harry, expecting the worst. Ron and Hermione had followed behind him.
"The Dark Mark was found over their house last night," added Fred, shamelessly reading Suzy's letter from the Ministry of Magic without her permission. "First time it's happened this kind in fifteen years, this is."
"Oh, my gosh!" exclaimed Hermione, both her hands on her face. "It's starting to happen again! Isn't it?!?"
"I knew it would so soon," said Lee Jordan miserably, shaking his head, "after Harry said You-Know-Who's back. We just didn't know exactly when."
Fred handed Harry the letter and he then read it. It was signed by a Ramius Palkov of the Ministry of Magic.
"Nobody believed what Harry was trying to tell us for months, and that included me," said Seamus gravely from behind George. "Here's the proof staring at us." He grabbed the letter and waved it around the Hall for everyone to see. "Potter was right all along! We've been too afraid to believe him…and Dumbledore! You Know Who's back!!!" He looked at Harry again and said, "Sorry for ever doubting you, Harry!"
Harry did his best not to show any visible signs of pleasure of being vindicated. The temptation to say "See, I told you" to everyone was simply overwhelming and he had to control himself. Thanks to Seamus, his words made a big impact on everyone within earshot, like a painful knock in their noggin, and it was good enough for him. For Harry it looked like he got the wish he made in Hagrid's hut yesterday, but instead of making him feel satisfied about it, he felt quite queasy around the stomach.
There were muttering sounds made by the students that suggested they concurred with Seamus, although there were others who vehemently disagreed with everything and dismissed the news entirely. Malfoy and his friends, on the other hand, were the only ones who seemed to be happy with the news. "Told you you'll be next, Mudbloods!" said Malfoy around gleefully.
Ignoring Malfoy, Harry looked around the Great Hall again. It was surreal seeing around him worried-looking faces from all the students - history was now repeating itself. Voldemort was truly back and was starting to do what he did more than 15 years ago; the deaths had heralded his second reign of terror. He couldn't know how it felt then, but this early the tension and the uncertainty for the future was indescribable. The only question was, was the wizarding world ready? What will the Ministry of Magic do for them this time? Would they still deny Voldemort has returned once more now that the Dark Mark was seen hovering over the house of at least three wizard families, who have just been found dead and were apparently murdered?
Amid Malfoy's chuckling, everybody looked at Dumbledore and waited for what he had to say. He was now their ray of hope, as he was before their birth when Voldemort terrorized the wizarding world. He was the one in charge. Sensing most eyes were now looking at him from around the Great Hall, he stood up and looked around. The noise in the Great Hall gradually died down, and all ears were ready and eager to hear his (hopefully) ever-encouraging words. The only sound being heard left where from the orphans, who were still sobbing.
"All `affected' students are excused for the hospital wing for the day and as long as necessary," he started. "All other students, please proceed to your scheduled classes - you will hear from me again, hopefully. Good day to you all."
There were voices of protest and incredulity made by students who demanded explanation of what's happened. Even Harry, Ron, and Hermione couldn't believe they were left hanging by Dumbledore though they thought he was also caught in complete surprise like the rest of them. Some students have already started standing up and walk slowly out of the Great Hall with excited talk but Harry, Ron, Hermione, and most of the Gryffindors chose to be the last ones out.
Harry couldn't look at Hermione's eyes. He knew what this meant: he was certain what was happening outside of Hogwarts were good enough reasons to have him grounded in Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays. How could he now justify to Dumbledore that he had to spend Christmas outside the school now that is was obviously risky to do so?
With all his might, like his eyes weighed a ton, he steered his gaze towards her. She was also looking back at him, but not with her usual "See I told you so" stare, but her face was drawn with sadness and worry - and unspoken pleading for him to think things over very carefully now.
"C'mon, we're gonna be late for class," said Ron, nudging Harry. "I can't believe we're still having classes after all this!" They were among the last to leave the Great Hall, including Hermione, who fretted along with the whole school.
-o0o-
"It hasn't really started yet," said Hermione slowly as they walked together along the corridors towards their next class for Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"What do you mean?" said Ron, but he suddenly shuddered. "Oh, I get it. We'll see more of this in the coming days…is that it?"
"Not only more of it, Ron," Hermione replied as they rounded up the corner leading to a very long hall towards their classroom. "I've read about in the Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts that V-Voldemort didn't just solely murder anybody in his last reign of terror. He used to kidnap wizards to force them to do something for him, and worse these wizards never knew they were actually working for Voldemort. These wizards served as his secret servants also reporting to him those who might have been planning to oppose him."
"And?"
"Don't you see? That's why Voldemort was very difficult to defeat. Aside from his vast knowledge and gift of the magical arts, he had his own machinery - and the secret servants. Almost all of these wizards were never known. Rumor has it they have been fed to werewolves or banished to some phantom zone forever after they served their purpose, or just maybe they just ceased to function as servants when Voldemort disappeared. There could still be some remnants today who can be called back to serve again - without their knowledge.
"No real group had ever succeeded in banding up to fight Voldemort - if there was one, some of its members were murdered and the survivors scattered before they could've become a very potent force. That's why the wizard world was so weak against him because it was fractious. Except for one group…"
"What was it called?" asked Harry.
"Legend has it that there was an Order that managed to stand up to the Death Eaters, but it had no name. I couldn't find any other reference to it."
"Probably because it was so secret," Harry thought aloud. "They might have done well to choose their members carefully - I wonder what it was called. Say, I'd love to start my own club against him, too."
"Hey, that's a cool idea, Harry," said Ron, looking excited. "Count me in…er, maybe next year."
"I guess from what Hermione's saying," Harry continued, "forming groups like these would be a big feat because Voldemort got to us first. I bet the Wizard World'll be having another tough time ahead."
"That doesn't sound very encouraging at all," Ron said gloomily.
"Yes, that's the problem," Hermione said, stopping near the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom door. "So knowing Voldemort's back, it's only logical that he might be repeating his strategy. So we must be careful who we talk to when discussing about these `clubs' if we ever hear about them or joining up any. We and our families could be targets for retribution."
"I think that's not necessary, Hermione, for us at least," said Ron. "Just about everybody knows we're against You Know Who."
"Hmmm, that's right," Hermione said, tapping her chin with a finger, "but we might be endangering others who might want to join up an anti-Voldemort group."
"Malfoy's got to know something," Harry muttered.
"What's that?" said Hermione. "Don't forget he loves to think he knows more about something than we do."
"Remember the brief encounter I had with him yesterday? He said `trust no one', didn't he?"
"Oh, Merlin's beard!" exclaimed Hermione. "His father is a known Death Eater, Harry. Of course he knows about it! Lucius Malfoy surely would've bragged how evil he was as a Death Eater to his own son."
"Draco was even having fun back in the Great Hall when the bad news broke," said Ron, his face livid. "He's such a humongous dung pile."
"And the Ministry of Magic almost had his father…" said Harry. "I could've thrown everyone a party when he would've been locked up in Azkaban." He sighed.
"It's a shame he got off scot-free," replied Hermione. "Seems to me it gave even more reason for Malfoy to become cockier. I mean, he now thinks they could get away with just about everything. What do you suppose would happen next?"
"Speaking of Azkaban, I expect we'll see the Dementors joining up with Voldemort soon," said Harry gravely, eliciting shocked expressions from Ron and Hermione's.
"Why did you ever think of that, Harry?" asked Hermione. "That's terrible!"
"When I met Voldemort at a graveyard last year, I heard him say the Dementors will want to join him. They've become so impatient with the Ministry of Magic for restricting their use of the kiss."
"Then that means, whenever that happens, they will leave Azkaban and all of the convicted Death Eaters can escape!" theorized Hermione, almost feeling faint.
"Di-arrhea!" exclaimed Ron. He leaned on a wall of the corridor and wiped his sweaty brow with his hand. "Hermione was right, we've seen nothing yet!"
"Does Fudge know about this?" said Hermione with a new sense of urgency. "We must tell him!"
"He knows about it already, Hermione," said Harry, "at the hospital wing last year. Dumbledore told him that was the first thing to do but he refused to listen, remember? Remember at how relaxed he was when we were called into that little ceremony in Dumbledore's office earlier this term."
"To tell you the truth, I thought Dumbledore was nuts to suggest that, but now I know…"
Their conversation was cut immaturely when Professor Russelpunk came striding towards them for his Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Russelpunk didn't fail to astonish them every time they saw him in the morning.
"What now?" said Ron under his breath as he goggled at their teacher, along with Hermione and Harry.
Russelpunk wore a very colorful costume today (like he did with his costumes almost everyday) - one with pearly white loose baggy pants, a pink shirt, a black cameraman's vest, dark sunglasses, and blue sneakers with brown socks. He walked like a peacock, in a hip-hop fashion, and carried a whole stack of books. It was a completely different set of clothes he had worn for breakfast. He had obviously gotten back to his quarters to change, thus he was a little late.
Professor Rowwel Russelpunk was about forty, born from Muggle parents, had fair skin and wavy brown hair, and was a tad taller than Harry. Dumblodore had realized too late after hiring him for the year (and after hoping he could stay on for the next several years), that despite the fact got out of Hogwarts in the mid-80's with high marks, he wasn't at all interested in mingling with his fellow teachers. He preferred to hang out with the students - teenagers - trying to fit in with them, and often bragged about how cool he was when he was their age. (This, Dumbledore had surmised, was the reason he was so absent minded and was out of focus about teaching and always came in to class virtually unprepared).
Of course, most of the students found him very annoying and avoided him at all cost. At least the students who took Muggle Studies seemed not to mind being seen hanging out with him, which he found fun, but only to treat him like a specimen; a good source for research. Nothing else!
"Ah, ready for another interesting round of lessons, lion-hearted lads and lovely miss?" he said jovially. "Oh, don't you worry about these books, do you really think we'll finish all of these in an hour?" he joked but Harry, Ron, and Hermione failed to respond immediately; they entered the classroom quickly ahead of him.
"Oh for…here comes the worst Mudblood," Draco said loudly inside the classroom just as when the whole class gasped after seeing Russelpunk. Hermione, thinking it was her that Draco was referring to, shot him a sharp stare.
Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown both giggled at the back of the room, extremely amused with Russelpunk's costume today. "Ooooh, what colorful getup you have today, Professor!" said Lavender. Ron surveyed Russelpunk's clothes with deep interest.
"Thank you very much, Miss Brown," said the pleased professor. "You know, back in the 80's when you were all little tykes, I was one of the most envied Breakdancers in America when I studied advanced Magic there after Hogwarts, and this was my winning costume!" He raised his hand halfway through the air and spun around for everyone to see. He ended his show by slapping his bulging belly with both hands.
Dean Thomas leaned over to Harry and whispered, "The other day he said he was once a matinee idol."
"D'you happen to know which movie he appeared in?" said Harry, who knew about movies because he was raised by Muggle foster parents.
"He was one of a thousand zombies in a single scene of the Night of the Terrible Dead. It bombed."
"Yesterday he wore king's robes," said Hermione, facing Dean. "He didn't say why. What was he trying to tell us?"
"Go figure," Dean chuckled.
"Who in his right mind would do a dance and breaking their bones?" said Ron, looking disturbed.
"Good Morning, Fifth years," said Russelpunk, transferring his hands on his waist and walking deeper to the rows of seats. "Now, as you have known just this morning, the Dark Lord apparently is on a new rampage with the unfortunate news of murders. This would make our lessons in Defence Against the Dark Arts more interesting and important, don't you agree?"
Instead of getting sounds of interested talk, the whole class moaned with Russelpunk's statement.
"What's the matter, class?"
"Do you ever need to remind us You Know Who's back, sir?" groaned Seamus. "We were starting to enjoy your - little diversion - we kind of forgot about him for a moment."
"Now, now, class, don't you despair!" he said with an encouraging voice. "Professor Rowwel Russelpunk is here to teach you the fine art of Defensive Magic, as I have been doing since the start of term. Let's not waste anymore precious time! The Dark Forces are on the move whilst we go idle. Take your wands out, please!"
The whole class obliged. Some students placed theirs on top of their desks, but some like Neville, who was directly in front of Russelpunk, held on to his.
"Good, I shall teach you one of the most important spells you need to know to protect yourself. I'm quite sure you haven't heard of this one. Crucial this one is and you must add it in your personal arsenal of fighting magic - The Disarmament Spell!"
"Expelliarmus!" he bellowed after designating Neville's wand as his target.
The spell worked perfectly as it should, but Neville's wand sped straight towards Hannah Abbot's forehead and knocked her down off her seat. Quite a few students screamed.
"Oh, got carried away there, sorry," said an embarrassed Russelpunk. "Are you all right, there, Miss Abbot?" he called, sounding worried.
Hannah, with a darkening spot on her central forehead, nodded groggily as she attempted to get back up on her seat. Ernie McMillan, who gone over to help her up said, "Sir, but we already had that during Second Year."
"Oh," said Russelpunk, his face reddening. "Oh, I see. Then I guess that one's off the list for today."
Harry and Ron looked at each other and shrugged; Russelpunk strode towards his desk to cross something out on a long parchment. "Professor Snape was very gracious to help me come up with the rest of the year's lesson plan," he explained, laughing nervously.
For the next half hour Russelpunk proposed from what was written on his list a few "new" lessons for the class to teach, but each time some students informed him on what year they had already learned the subject. First, Russelpunk introduced a lesson about the Flipendo Spell, but Ron pointed out Professor Quirrel had already taught them that during their first year.
Halfway through it was Diffindo (the spell that repulses violent plants, second year) until they jumped to Dark Creatures (which they studied in their third year) and the Unforgivable Curses (Fourth Year). Giving up, Russelpunk folded his parchment with extreme disappointment. "Does anybody know of a spell you haven't learned yet?" he sighed.
"Oh, Please! You're supposed to know more about us - you're the teacher!" said Draco insolently. Russelpunk heard him, but said nothing in return, and gazed down on the floor disenchanted. The Hufflepuffs and the Gryffindors felt growing sympathy for him, while the Slytherins cheered and jeered. Draco bent towards Harry and said something only he could hear.
"He doesn't know anything because he's a Mudblood," Draco said, with extreme pleasure. Harry threw a scathing look at Malfoy, who was so pleased with himself.
Ron looked for help and bent over to Hermione, who had also heard Draco's remarks. "Quick! Think of something for Russelpunk!" Hermione then raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" said Russelpunk, looking up slowly.
"There's one thing, sir, that we're so interested in learning," she said. "It's perfect for our O.W.L. exams this year - the Carpe Retractum Spell."
Russelpunk's gloomy face quickly changed into a big smile, and the whole class except the Slytherins began to stir with interest.
"Why…yes, yes!" said Russelpunk happily, looking thankful. "How could I forget about that one? Silly me. Thank you, Miss Granger! Uh, take ten points for Gryffindor!" The class clapped their hands in relief and the professor walked away from his seat with fresh confidence.
"But, Hermione, that one's for Charms," hissed Ron. Hermione, however, waved an impatient hand at him and told him to shut up.
"Right, then, the Carpe Retractum Spell," said Russelpunk taking out his wand. (Neville and some students sat lower on their seats.) "Who can tell me the applications of Carpe Retractum? Yes, Ms. Granger!"
"It causes the spellcaster to grapple permanently seated objects with his wand to cross over some obstacles like deep chasms, and the like," recited Hermione. "You could hang on and swing it like a vine until you release the spell."
"Cool! Like Tarzan!" exclaimed Dean.
"Who?" Ron said.
"Couldn't have said it better myself, Ms. Granger," said Russelpunk. "Take two points for Gryffindor. Additionally, it's also used for pulling objects up to ten times heavier than the spellcaster for a few feet. The difference of a fairly similar spell to this one is that Accio is used to summon for light objects from farther distances, but Carpe Retractum is the logical choice of a spell to apply if you want to pull boulders, tree trunks, and other heavy things.
"The only disadvantage for using this spell is that it drains a significant amount of mana, the wizard's magical strength. So you need to use this spell sparingly. Otherwise, you'd drop exhausted. The incantation for this spell is the same as its name. Carpe Retractum. Who wants to try it first?"
More than half of the class raised their hands, but Russelpunk seemed to treat Hermione with more attention now. It may have only been out of appreciation that she rescued him out of extreme embarrassment.
"Ah, Miss Granger, of course, would you like to try the spell for the class to see?"
Hermione popped out of her seat excitedly and leaped to the front of class in a single bound.
"Hold on while I'll conjure a heavy boulder for you to practice on, Miss Granger," said Russelpunk. "How heavy - I mean - light are you?"
"About ninety five pounds, sir," Hermione replied.
"Okay, that means I'd make a rock up to ten times your weight - I'll shave it to half since this is your first time." Hermione winked at Harry, who grinned back; the majority of the class looked on at her expectantly.
Whump! Crash!
"There we go! A nice round little four hundred pound boulder," said Russelpunk in front of the shiny grey rock, seated on a freshly damaged hole on the crumbling wooden floor. "Get ready now, Miss Granger! This spell has the range of a hundred feet, class. Say the word…and pull."
Hermione happily obliged and simply pointed her wand at the small. "Carpe Rectractum!"
BOOM!
However, something went wrong with her spell! Hermione's wand created a strong invisible explosion causing all students to be thrown off their seats; its shockwave collapsed part of the brick-stone wall and shattered glass from the window panes. Students screamed and ran out in panic as part of the classroom ceiling came crashing down on everyone, covering the whole room with a blanket of thick dust. After Harry felt a few pairs of feet stepping on him on the floor, he frantically felt for Ron, who was also on the floor beside him, but unhurt.
"Bloody hell! What was that?" Ron said, coughing and gasping for air.
"Hermione's spell backfired!" Harry said painfully. "Big time!"
"Backfired?!? B-but that's impossible…"
"C'mon, I think the room's clear - let's check on her and the professor!"
Harry and Ron blindly felt towards the spot where they last saw the professor and Hermione, shoving loose wood fragments aside as they went. When they reached the area, the dust was already thinning and they could see partly ahead of them.
"Blimey - this is déjà vu all over again…" said Ron, referring to their recent experience in Xanthius when the former Head Boy Jack Chadron caused the fortress' ceiling to collapse that killed himself.
"Hermione! Professor Russelpunk!" called Harry, coughing, but he could only hear Russelpunk's painful moaning. He had been thrown straight into the rock he had conjured and he hit his shin; he was holding his bleeding leg very painfully. "Are you okay, sir?"
"Oh, I feel marvelous," said Russelpunk, wincing. "I'm no good…please look around for others who might be hurt, will you?"
They had found Hermione within a second. She, however, laid down on the floor, apparently out cold, and piece of wood from the ceiling had pinned her body on to the floor. Harry let out a dry sob.
"Oh, my god," said Ron. "Let's take that thing off her!"
"W-we'll do it very slowly," Harry said. They both held the piece of ceiling and heaved, then threw it aside. Ron knelt beside Hermione and rested her head on his lap. There was no sign of blood on her aside from small bruises on her face, and Ron felt initially relieved.
"Thank goodness she's still breathing," Ron said, and Harry nodded.
Madam Pomfrey had appeared at the doorway, heavily panting."I heard there was a magical accident here! What happened? My goodness!"
Harry knew that Madam Pomfrey thought it was completely unlikely that the brightest witch of the school could cause this mishap, but he didn't care at all. He knew he had to bring her up to the hospital wing at that instant. The only thing stopping him was he wasn't sure if it was safe to do so then; she might have injured her spine. Thus, he hesitated to lift her.
After checking on Hermione, Madam Pomfrey declared it was okay for her to be transported up to the hospital wing - she had no broken bones. Harry and Ron wanted to go with her, too, but they were still covered with white dust from head to toe.
"Don't you dare come into my hospital wing in that state, boys!" warned Madam Pomfrey as she carried Hermione off in a conjured hovering stretcher. "You clean up first!"
"No, she can't tell us that!" said Ron angrily to Harry, dancing uncertainly on the spot and shedding loose bits of dust. "This is an emergency!"
"I'll go with them, Ron!" Ginny said, running and passing them from behind. She, too, had heard about the accident and got there to see for herself. "See you there later!"
Harry had managed to hold on to Ron to calm him down, although he also needed someone to do the same to him. Amid the sounds of choking and gasping for breath by their other classmates, and the mumur of other students who went to the scene out of curiosity, Harry and Ron just stood still in the middle of the long corridor looking at the direction Madam Pomfrey had disappeared with Hermione and Ginny, hearing nothing else but the heavy pounding of their hearts.
For Harry, it wasn't only pounding. It was crying.
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