Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 16- A New Way of Life

Harry was awoken by his recurring nightmare early in the morning and couldn't fall back asleep. Giving up on getting any more rest, Harry kicked his covers off himself, got a drink of water from the basin by the window and got around for the day. Down in the common room, which was empty and ghostly silent spare the faint crackling of the fire, Harry stretched out on a couch. A glance at a clock above the fireplace told him it was only 4:00. He sighed and folded his hands behind his head. He wished he'd stop having these stupid dreams; he would never be able to come to terms with his grief if he didn't stop re-witnessing the tragedy almost every night. Every time he thought of Sirius, it felt as if a vice was being tightened around his heart, making it hard to breathe. If only he hadn't been so stupid; if only he hadn't gone to the Department of Mysteries that night; if only Dumbledore hadn't kept Sirius locked up all year…The list went on. Harry still kicked himself every time he thought about the danger he had put his friends in; he wouldn't let that happen again.

He glanced up at the clock again. 4:30. Growing restless, he decided to take a walk around the grounds outside. Although the entire castle was still asleep, outside the birds were beginning to wake up. A cheerful chirruping and chirping was carried by the breeze across the grounds. The air was crisp and cooled his lungs pleasantly. He wandered down by the lake and sat under the large beech tree he had seen the Marauders sitting under in Snape's memory last year. He didn't like to think about everything that happened in that memory, but he did like to remember the way his dad behaved, ruffling up his hair and playing with his snitch. Lupin, the rational one, would sit reading a book. Much like Hermione does, Harry thought. She was probably the most like Lupin. And then there was Sirius: carefree, confident, and cool. Every movement he made was just so casual, so easygoing, and so natural. Harry wished he could be more like that. Maybe if Harry had been able to spend more time around him, some of that would have rubbed off on him.

Thinking about Sirius made his heart ache a way thinking about his dad never did. It was odd, really. When he had first realized that, Harry had felt guilty and ashamed. After all, his dad was still his dad; Sirius couldn't replace that. But then he thought about it more, and it occurred to him that the reason it hurt so much more was because he had never even known his father; he knew nothing of him except what he learned through other people's memories. Yet Sirius was real to him; he knew him. And he'd had hopes of a future with him, which he had never had with his dad. Thinking about his dad made him want to strive harder and brought a burst of pride. Thinking about Sirius just made his eyes fill with tears and made him long to be rid of his misery, even if that meant just giving up altogether.

Harry wiped his eyes hastily with the back of his hand and stood to walk back up to the castle. He had to stop being so weak. He had to grow up and get over it and stop living in the past. And though he knew that, a part of him didn't want to let go.

* * *

Harry found Hermione already awake and sitting in the Common Room along with a few clusters of younger students and a couple of seventh years.

She looked up at him as he approached the chair she was sitting in.

"Good morning," she said brightly, giving him a smile. "Where are you returning from?"

"I took a walk outside; I woke up early this morning and couldn't fall back asleep, and I figured the fresh air would invigorate me a little rather than feeling drowsy all day."

"Good idea." She glanced up at the clock, which now showed that it was going on seven o'clock. "I've got prefect duties. Care to come with me? Ron's supposed to go but I figured I'd let him sleep in, as long as you'll fill in."

"Sure, I'll come. I'll just go grab my bag so we don't have to come back here before lessons."

A minute later he and Hermione were clambering through the portrait hole with their bags dangling from their shoulders.

"So, where are we heading?" Harry asked, following her down the Grand Staircase.

"We just have to patrol a few of the halls, mainly to make sure there aren't any lost first-years wandering around."

When they reached the ground floor, she veered left down the hallway Harry knew the Hufflepuff Common Room was located off of. Harry asked her if she knew where it was.

"No…only Heads are allowed to know the locations of all of them, unless you figure it out on your own somehow."

"Or you sneak in under a clever disguise," Harry said, grinning at her, referring to the time he and Ron snuck into the Slytherin Dungeon using Polyjuice Potion to transform themselves into Crabbe and Goyle.

Hermione laughed lightly. "Yes, or you could do that."

The hallway twisted around quite a bit, with hallways leading off in numerous directions at every bend. Harry often found himself walking straight while Hermione turned, and he'd have to back-track quickly and take several large steps to catch up with her. While they turned yet another corner, and the lights grew dimmer, Hermione spoke to him again.

"How did you enjoy your little reunion with Mark last night?"

"I dunno. It was nice I guess. He's a good kid."

Hermione cast him a knowing sideways glance. "I saw a welt on his shoulder. Do you have any idea how he got that?"

Harry looked down at the ground as they continued walking and answered hesitantly. "His parents beat him. They lashed him pretty hard when he decided to leave to come here. Apparently they hate wizards."

Hermione bit her lip. "That's horrible!" she exclaimed. "And he's so small, and happy. But did you see his eyes, Harry? They're so hard and cold, they look like they belong to someone who is dead, or soulless or something."

Harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eye to find she looked incredibly frightened. Without even thinking, he put his arm around her, pulling her closer as they continued to walk.

"I know. I can tell he's had a pretty tough life. But he'll be happy here, I'm sure of it. It will all brighten up for him. Once you get to know him a bit, you'll really like him Hermione."

She nodded her head as she led the way around yet another corner. They walked in silence for the next five minutes, and although Hermione was no longer upset, Harry kept his arm purposefully around her.

By the time they had wound their way all through the corridors and come back out in the Great Hall, Harry was thankful Hermione knew her way around so well. He would have gotten lost down there in a matter of minutes.

People were beginning to stream from all over toward the Great Hall for breakfast. Realizing he still had his arm around Hermione, Harry pulled his arm back to his side swiftly, feeling his cheeks grow red.

Inside the Great Hall, they found Ron already eating. Harry and Hermione sat down across from Ron, grabbing plates and loading them up with eggs, potatoes, and bacon.

"Thanks for letting me off duties this morning, Hermione," Ron said.

"You're welcome, but don't think it's going to be made into a habit."

A few minutes later, as they were each finishing up their breakfasts, there was a loud commotion as the mail was delivered. Hundreds of owls all swooped down in the Great Hall, dropping parcels onto students' laps. Neville had a rather large package, as usual, of things he had forgotten to bring along to school. Harry and Ron hadn't received anything, but a black owl swooped down and delivered a paper to Hermione. She fumbled in her bag, withdrew five knuts, and dropped them in the pouch attached to the owl's leg. The owl took flight again with a singular `hoot.'

Hermione had the Daily Prophet unrolled as soon as the owl took off.

Ron and Harry patiently watched her read it.

"Has anything else happened that we should know about?" Harry asked, attempting to read it from beside her.

Hermione sighed and rolled the paper back up again. "There was a group of ten bodies- 3 were wizards, 7 muggles- found in a park in Liverpool."

"Are they sure it's the Death Eaters?" Ron asked.

"Of course they are, Ron," Hermione snapped. "They found the Dark Mark above them, didn't they? Luckily, `they' is a wizard who was taking a walk through there, so the muggles didn't catch sight."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Ron said.

Harry frowned at him. "Oh yeah mate, it's excellent! As long as the muggles don't notice anything, the Death Eaters can kill anyone they wish!"

"I didn't mean it like that!" Ron said back. "I just figured that the longer the muggles don't notice anything going on, the better."

"Well, either way," Hermione said, "The Prime Minister has already been notified of their movement's and before long the muggles are all going to catch on to the fact that something odd is happening- not just some muggle serial murderer roaming around the country."

"Let's hope they don't anytime soon," Ron said. "I wonder what will happen when they do."

"Dunno. They'll probably all freak out and run around in frenzy," Harry said.

Ron laughed. "Yeah- they'll all be running around in circles like chickens with their heads cut off, screaming with their hands over their heads." Ron waved his hands over his head wildly and pretended to scream.

They both laughed.

Hermione frowned disapprovingly. She slapped Harry's arm. "It's not funny!"

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. "You're right."

While breakfast wrapped up, McGonagall went along their table passing out schedules.

"Here you go Mr. Weasley," she said, handing one to him from over his shoulder. "Ms. Granger," she added, handing hers over the table to her as well.

Then she continued on down the table. Harry watched her go, puzzled that she didn't give him his while she was there.

"Awww…I've got History of Magic today with Hufflepuff," Ron groaned, frowning at his schedule. "But I've got Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon," he said brightening. "How about you?" he asked Harry, looking up from the sheet.

Harry shrugged. "She didn't give me mine yet. Who's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"
"Yeah, that reminds me," Hermione offered. "Dumbledore forgot to mention the new teacher at the feast."

"He probably forgot since his mind was on other things," Harry said. "Who is it?" he persisted.

Ron looked down at his sheet and a dumb look appeared on his face.

"What?" Harry asked.

Ron glanced up at Harry and Hermione. "It says that it's Snape. There must be some mistake…"

Hermione quickly looked down at her own schedule and said, "I have Snape too. And look! There's a new Potion's master: Professor Teteran."

Harry snapped his head up to the High Table. Sure enough, there was a new professor seated there who he had failed to notice before.

"You've got to be kidding me!" he groaned, banging his head on the table. "Why is Dumbledore doing this to us?"

"Beats me," Ron said with a deep scowl on his face. "Bloody git. How could he let that giant ball of slime teach us now?"

"Well, I know Snape is our worst nightmare, but that doesn't mean he isn't really, really good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he's been applying to the position for years," Hermione offered. "I don't know why Dumbledore didn't give him the job sooner. Maybe he couldn't find another Potions Master until now, or maybe he just didn't trust bringing in any new staff this year."

She looked at both Ron and Harry in turn to find them both glaring at her. She blushed but continued strongly. "It's true! He must be good given his," she paused and leaned closer to them, "history. I'm sure his knowledge is extensive; the real question is why Dumbledore didn't give him the job sooner."

"Maybe because he's a bloody pillock. Ghouls have better personalities than he does!" Ron complained.

"He's right you know," Harry said. "Snape's a horrible teacher. His classes are a living hell! Now Dumbledore's giving him to us in the class he knows is the most important one?! I'm with Ron. Dumbledore's an idiot."

"He's not an idiot!" Hermione said. "I'm sure he has his reasons for giving Snape the position."

"You don't know what it's like to live under Snape's full wrath Hermione," Harry said, folding his arms in front of him. "He doesn't hate you like he hates me. And I hate him for that matter! I really do!" He suddenly felt himself getting angry, but he couldn't control it. The best he could do was lean forward and say it all in a vicious whisper. "The way he taunted Sirius, how he treats me just because he was jealous of my dad. He was just as bad as a kid as he is now. Not to mention Occlumency; the way he stopped giving me lessons! If he hadn't done that, Sirius would still be here today!"

He felt Hermione put her arm around him.

"Stop doing that to yourself," she said sternly. "Quit dwelling on the past and on what could have been done to prevent it. There's nothing anyone can do anymore; you can't change the past."

Harry looked up at her stubbornly. "You of all people shouldn't say that." He smiled at her.

She smiled back and then withdrew her arm, sitting up again. Ron watched them curiously.

Harry was going to apologize for his outburst when McGonagall walked past again and failed to stop beside him. He watched her pass and then shouted after her, "Professor McGonagall!"

Hearing his call, she abruptly stopped and turned back to face him as he walked up to her.

"You didn't give me my schedule," he told her.

"You will follow a different course schedule this year, Potter," she said curtly. "Please meet with the Headmaster during first class today. He'll explain it to you."

With that she turned back on her heel and strode away again.

Harry sat back down next to Hermione and simply stared at the table in front of him. What was going on around here? Why did he have a different schedule? So he wouldn't be in any classes with Ron or Hermione?

"Where's yours?" Ron asked in regards to his schedule. "Didn't McGonagall give it to you?"

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, looking at him with concern.

"I have a special schedule this year; I'm not going to be attending classes with you guys."

"What?!" Ron exclaimed.

"Yeah, Dumbledore's apparently altering my courses. I'm not really sure what I'm going to be taking, but it doesn't sound like any of the normal classes I would be in."

"I can't sit through class without you there!" Ron said. "It'll be, like, wrong. I mean, what am I going to do all day?"

"Hmm, how about you try listening and learning," Hermione said sarcastically.

"Very funny," Ron returned. "Seriously, this isn't right."

"Tell me about it," Harry said miserably. "I don't particularly want to sit through any classes by myself either."

"First Hermione, now you," Ron said.

Harry turned to Hermione.

"What's he talking about?"

"Well, I've got a slightly altered schedule this year too. Since I did so well on my O.W.L.s, McGonagall felt it was appropriate to allow me some, well I guess you could say privileges."

"Like..?" Harry prompted.

"I still have to attend a class a day, but other time is allotted for individual study. I'm basically allowed to go to the library and research material on my own, since that's how I learn best. Class tends to be kind of redundant when you've already read and memorized the books."

"That's great Hermione," Harry said. He knew how happy she probably was. She was probably only barely managing to contain her excitement for Ron's sake. Harry could tell Ron was upset that he would be left alone in most of his classes this year.

"I'm sorry Ron," he said. "Trust me- I'd much rather suffer through class with you than by myself."

"Thanks. I guess you two are just too good to stoop to the level of regular N.E.W.T. classes now," he teased.

"We should probably get to class now," Hermione said. Sure enough, the Great Hall was slowly emptying as students left for their classes.

They threw their bags over their shoulders and headed out of the Great Hall and up to the first floor. There Harry parted with them and continued to Dumbledore's office on the second floor. He stopped before the gargoyle and then cursed himself for forgetting to ask for the password earlier. He was about to walk away and find another teacher to ask when the gargoyle shuddered and twirled around revealing a winding staircase. Harry looked around then climbed the stairs, reaching the great oak door at the top and knocking lightly on it three times.

"Please, do come in," came the reply from inside, and Harry opened the door to find Professor Dumbledore sitting by himself behind his desk.

"Ah, Harry. I was expecting you," he welcomed. He motioned to the chair across from him. "Please, have a seat."

Harry obliged and set his bag down on the floor next to him. To his right, Fawkes let out a low cry and tilted his head towards him.

The last time Harry had been in here, he had been incredibly angry. In fact, he had been angrier than he had ever been in his entire life. He had shouted at Dumbledore and thrown his objects against the walls, causing them to smash. Sirius had just been sent through the veil, and both Voldemort and Bellatrix had managed to escape again, right from the very heart of the Ministry of Magic.

"I'm sure you are very curious as to why your schedule has been altered this year," Dumbledore said, bringing Harry's attention back onto him.

Harry nodded his head.

"Since you are now aware of the Prophecy, I felt it necessary to act upon it."

"Sir?" Harry asked; he was not quite sure where Dumbledore was taking this.

"We must speed up your education, Harry. It is vital that you gain extensive knowledge and skills over this year and, hopefully, the next in preparations for the fulfillment of the Prophecy. I do not think it would be wise of me to allow you to sit through ordinary classes, only to leave you with too little time to learn what you must later on. Therefore, I have arranged a special schedule for you this year, a very grueling one."

He looked at Harry with a serious expression, boring his eyes right into Harry's own.

"It will not be easy; you're in for a very rough year during which you will face many challenges and be tested in ways well beyond anyone your age has ever been tested. You must learn what it takes most wizards their entire lives to learn and then some. Do you understand this responsibility?"

Harry gulped. Dumbledore's description of the year to come made him nervous, but not fearful. Harry's thoughts traveled back to Bellatrix and his face set in determination.

"Yes Professor," he said. "I do."

Dumbledore nodded and allowed his eyes to leave Harry's. "Very well. Now, I have arranged for a variety of skilled wizards to come in every so often in order to instruct you. Other time will be spent with private tutoring sessions with one of the Hogwarts' professors or myself. In addition to the special sessions with the legendary experts and the private lessons with some of your old professors, I will be taking up where Professor Snape left off in teaching you Occlumency as well as Legilimency. You will also have to spend time studying on your own, learning spells from some of the restricted sections of the library in addition to all of the spells the other students will learn throughout the school year. It's a very heavy load, I warn you of this now. But I do believe that you understand why this is necessary."

"Yes, I do," Harry assured him.

Dumbledore smiled softly at him and then reached across the desk to a candy dish filled with little yellow candies. He popped one in his mouth and then offered the bowl to Harry.

"Would you care for a lemon drop?" he asked.

"Er- no thanks," Harry said.

"Ah, very well then," Dumbledore said, placing the lid back on the dish and setting it back down again.

"Before you leave, there is one more matter to attend to," Dumbledore said, sucking on his candy. "I wish for you to restart that Defense Against the Dark Arts Club you led last year. Dumbledore's Army, correct?"

He didn't wait for Harry to answer; he just smiled with twinkling eyes and then continued.

"You are to lead it and instruct the other students as you were before, only with the extended knowledge you will be receiving this year."

"Why?" Harry asked bluntly.

"Because it was extremely effective, that's why. Every single person who was in your club passed their Defense Against the Dark Arts exams with higher marks than all of the other students in this school. Harry, you have a great talent in this subject and it is neither right nor fair to refuse to share that talent with others. In fact, it is downright selfish.

However, there are some slight changes involved. One is that it is of course no longer going to be kept a secret. Secondly, I do not wish for just anyone to be admitted to it. At this point, it is important that you work on harder spells which not every student has enough background to master. Also, this club is going to be comprised of the school's elite. There are many students in this school who are going to have to choose sides in this war very soon and who are going to need to be educated in Defense Against the Dark Arts further than their class will take them. Therefore, I am going to have the House Heads determine who will attend your meetings. There will be students attending from each house."

"But Professor," Harry argued, "I don't mean to be rude, but I don't really get along too well with many of the Slytherins and I know they won't want to come, they won't listen if they do-"

"They will listen to you and they will respect you. While you are teaching in this school, you hold the same authority as any employed professor. You will have the ability to deduct or give points, grade, and keep reports of any misbehavior or excellence. Of course, there is also the responsibility aspect involved with teaching. It will be required of you to have the meetings planned out in advance, to keep track of everyone's attendance and conduct, to write individual and group reports monthly…there's a lot of work involved as well."

"Professor, I- this sounds like an awful lot of work, I mean- I'm not sure if I can handle this on top of my studies."

Dumbledore placed his hands together and held them in front of his mouth as he surveyed Harry.

"Oh you can Harry, and you will."

* * *

Harry missed lunch while he was in Dumbledore's office. Since he didn't start class until tomorrow, he headed to the library to try to get a head-start with his reading. According to the crumpled sheet of paper in front of him, he was to have lessons with McGonagall in Transfiguration every Tuesday morning, lessons with Snape in Defense Against the Dark Arts every Wednesday evening, lessons with Flitwick in Charms every Thursday right before lunch, Potions with Professor Teteran every Friday (Harry was both surprised and thankful about that class: surprised in that he hadn't been expecting to continue with that class after he didn't receive an `Outstanding' on his potion O.W.L. and now a career as an Auror was still open to him, and thankful in that at least potions now held the prospect of not being quite as dreadful without Snape there; of course, that went both ways: no Snape in potions, but Snape there to likely ruin his favorite class instead.), Occlumency and Legilimency with Dumbledore on Saturday evenings, and Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid on Mondays. Actually, since Care of Magical Creatures wasn't something he had to be taught individually or on any advanced level, but still had to take in order to know how to deal with them in case the need arose, he was allowed to attend that class with Hermione and Ron. He was happy that he would at least get to spend a little time with them, even if it was in class; he was already growing depressed thinking about how little he would see them this year.

He wasn't going to continue taking History of Magic or Divination; luckily Dumbledore found them superfluous. It also was no longer required that he take Herbology, since there was no real practical use for it in what he was now training for, for Harry knew that he was now in training to fight and bring about the end of Lord Voldemort. At first that had scared him slightly, when the reality of it struck him, but then he grew more adjusted to the fact and it instead made electricity flow through his veins and skin. The thought of the final battle with Voldemort still worried him so much that he felt queasy, but the thought of training for it made him feel more secure.

Throughout the day when he wasn't in one of his private sessions, he was to be studying in the library, reading books that Dumbledore selected for him. Harry looked down at the list held in front of him, with Dumbledore's signature scrawled at the bottom. He was to get a book on Charms out of the Restricted Section of the library, in addition to reading over his Transfiguration book for his session with Professor McGonagall tomorrow. Now he was even more thankful than he was originally that he had already read through his textbooks. It wouldn't take as long to review as to read through five chapters for the first time.

Harry stopped at the main desk in the library and handed the sheet to Madam Pince, who snatched it out of his hand and lowered her glasses to the rim of her nose in order to verify the signature was genuine.

"Professor Dumbledore sent me to get a book," Harry explained pointlessly. It annoyed him slightly that she thought he was forging a signature. He soon became impatient and said, "You can go and ask him if you'd like, he'll just tell you the same thing I am. He's going to be sending me down here all year to get books out of the Restricted Section, so I suggest you get used to it and not bother checking the signature over and over every time."

Madam Pince removed her eyes from the sheet and frowned at him sternly.

"I mean, I'll be coming here often just so that you know," he corrected lamely, deciding he had been a little too rude and not wanting a detention on his first day.

"Very well; I will go retrieve it for you," she said briskly, handing the sheet back to him.

As Harry waited for her, he looked back down at his schedule again. Although he technically had Sundays off, the Defense Association (Dumbledore asked that he referred to it as that instead of `Dumbledore's Army', since it needed a fresh start and reputation) was to meet every Sunday evening from seven to nine. Of course, the club also meant that he had an extra pile of responsibilities to attend to each week in addition to all of his studies. Not only that, but on random days Dumbledore was having the experts arrive to help instruct him, on which days Dumbledore warned him he would be attending the special lesson from the time he awoke until the time he was sent off to bed. Harry understood that this was necessary in order to make the best use of the short time allotted, but the only thing that kept him from complaining was his high interest in what was to come on those days. He couldn't wait to learn some advanced spells, even if it took hours of work and all of the energy out of him on the days the experts came.

Madam Pince returned with the book in hand, and he slid it in his bag and thanked her before heading up to the Common Room to study. After going over his schedule in full, the only thing that was keeping Harry from groaning aloud and sinking to the floor in despair was the seed of determination that had been planted in him. Every time he felt like giving up, he had already determined that he would think about Bellatrix, the Death Eaters who harmed Hermione, the recent murders, Voldemort killing Cedric…anything that would fuel his passion and determination to keep going and striving harder. What he failed to realize at the time was that it would in turn fuel his hatred and anger as well.

* * *

Harry hunched over his Transfiguration book in an armchair by the fire when Hermione and Ron came in later that evening after Ron's classes had finished. Hermione had been in the library all afternoon but Harry hadn't seen her there, else he would have stayed there to read instead of by himself in the Common Room. Ron and Hermione sat down on the couch next to him, bags sliding from their shoulders and dropping to the ground. Ron had a scowl on his face but Hermione looked reasonably happy.

"I can't really talk right now," Harry said, resuming his reading on Minor Self Human Transfiguration, "I've got to finish these chapters and I don't want to be up all night."

Ron grunted. "Since when do you care so much about studying?"

"Since I learned what's in for me this year," Harry said, flipping the page.

"And what exactly is that?" Ron asked. "You weren't at lunch today; Hermione and I figured you were probably still in with Dumbledore, so we didn't worry too much. Besides, we figured you'd tell us all about your new and improved schedule once we got back."

Harry sighed and shut his book. Then he proceeded to explain to Ron and Hermione exactly what his schedule was to be like this year, handing the chart that planned it all out over to them. On the sheet Dumbledore had given him was a chart that stood for a month, each box a day just like a Muggle calendar, only it was bewitched and animated. Each box had tiny script in it that said what class he had each day, at what time, and where. If one of his professors changed the location of their lesson for whatever reason, it would show up on his sheet. It would also show what his assignments were at the bottom of each box (which would glow red once he completed them and then disappear altogether once he handed them in), and if one of the experts was coming in it would alert him with a gold star flashing in the box instead of the regular listings. Currently, all of the boxes were blank apart from the professor names, the times, and the locations of his lessons.

When Harry finished explaining everything to them, Hermione looked deeply impressed and Ron looked blown away.

"How do you think you're going to manage all of that? That's more work than we've done since we've been here!" Ron exclaimed incredulously.

"I think it's very responsible of you Harry," Hermione offered, handing his schedule back to him. "But I do agree with Ron in some ways too; it sounds like an awful lot to handle- even more than what I had in third year."

"I know, but I have to do it, I don't have a choice," Harry said firmly. "I'm ready to start working harder this year."

Hermione smiled approvingly and Ron said, "Good luck, mate. You make my N.E.W.T. classes look like a breeze. By the way, did I tell you I've still got Astronomy? I guess there was a large curve on the exam due to the `minor disturbance'. Right- I wouldn't exactly call a group of wizards attacking Hagrid and almost killing McGonagall a minor disturbance, more like `a large disruption that served not only as an inevitable distraction but also as the biggest mistake of those Aurors' lives.'"

Harry chortled.

"What else have you got?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts- of course, I couldn't fail that one even if I tried after your club, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, Charms, History of Magic- I'd rather I'd failed that stupid exam now, rather than being stuck in that nullifier again, and now Muggle Studies as well; Dad'll be thrilled when he hears about that one, so he doesn't need to know it's only because I needed another class and that was the only one left open to me besides Arithmancy."

"You'll like learning about Muggles," Hermione said, "Even I rather enjoyed that class, and I'm muggle-born. It should fascinate you as much as magic used to fascinate me."

"Or it could just bore me to death so that I fall asleep in two classes instead of just History of Magic," Ron said.

Hermione rolled her eyes and addressed Harry again.

"That's great that you get to continue with your club! I suppose that's always something you can look forward to."

"Yeah, apart from the fact that it's now going to be comprised of students I either don't know at all or hate for a large part and it's all official now; I have to construct lesson plans and grade people and things like that," he said darkly.

"But you have a `Professor' status now. You can deduct points from the Slytherins or even fail them!" Ron said happily.

Harry smiled. "Only while we're in session, and failing them only affects them as far as getting them removed from the Club and their grade marked down a level in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"It sounds good enough to me. I hope I can even get in anymore, now that McGonagall's choosing attendees."

"I'm sure you will," Harry said. "And even if there was some fluke and you didn't get selected by McGonagall, you'd still get in anyway. I get to choose some students too, so that the people who were in it last time and trusted me are automatically in again."

"Harry," Hermione said suddenly. "Would you mind if I helped you with your lesson plans and organization of the club? Just help, of course."

Harry gaped at her. "Are you serious? Of course I wouldn't mind! I'd love you to."

A grin spread across her face and she sprang from her seat with gusto and ran up to her dormitory, already mumbling about plans.

Harry and Ron watched her go and then gave each other a look that clearly said `I really don't understand her sometimes.'

Ron sighed and pulled a piece of parchment and a quill out of his bag.

"Well, if you're going to be working, I might as well as get this essay Binns set us out of the way. I'd tell you you're lucky to be getting out of that class, but I know you've got more than I'd bargain for in return."

Harry grinned and then set back to reading his book. After a half an hour spent in silence but for the scratching of Ron's quill, the turning of pages, and the soft murmur of voices of other students, Harry finished his last chapter right as his head began to dully ache and his stomach's grumblings began to demand his attention.

"Want to head down to dinner?" Harry asked Ron, who looked relieved to have an excuse to halt his work on his essay.

Before they headed downstairs they sent a first year girl scurrying up to the girls' dormitory to call for Hermione, who came down soon after. In the Entrance Hall they ran into Professor McGonagall. She called out to Harry and motioned for him to join her.

Hermione and Ron stopped to wait for him but Harry told them to go on ahead and that he'd be with them soon.

"Yes Professor?"

McGonagall led him off to the side. "Headmaster Dumbledore has just informed me of your new schedule, which I find very burdensome of him. I hope you do not feel the same way?"

"Well, sort of," Harry admitted, "But I'll deal with it."

She looked at him seriously and then continued. "In any case, I thought it right for you to know something so that you were not taken aback by it unpleasantly later. I had your name in mind for Quidditch Captain this year, but that was before I heard all about your new busy schedule, so I'm planning on offering the position to Mr. Weasley instead."

Harry looked down at the floor disappointedly in a type of frustration. He had been looking forward to Quidditch this year despite the extenuating circumstances and now he was being denied the honor of Captain that he thought he rightfully earned in place of something that could not exactly be considered fun. The truth was that Harry should have been made Prefect too, in place of Ron, if Dumbledore hadn't mistrusted his abilities to cope with the burden of the Prophecy (though he seemed to have gotten over that and gone to the opposite extreme instead this year), and now Ron was being handed another honor that had been set aside for him. Sure, he was happy for Ron, but also couldn't help but find it incredibly unfair.

He tried to explain this to McGonagall.

"If I can handle all of my studies and my club, then I can handle Quidditch Captain as well. It's not really fair to give me a bunch of extra work to do but not allow me to do what I enjoy-"

"Yes, I understand Potter, but there just simply isn't enough time for Quidditch in your schedule this year-"

"-And if I'm going to be playing Quidditch anyways, I might as well as be Cap- What do mean, no time for Quidditch? You mean at all?"

McGonagall's severity seemed to soften a bit as she continued rather sadly, "Yes, Potter. I mean at all."

Harry couldn't believe what she was saying. "Do you mean to tell me that you're trying to kick me off the team altogether? Wait, the ban doesn't still pertain now that Umbridge is gone, does it?"

"No, Mr. Potter, it does not. However, I do mean that I think it would be best for you to drop Quidditch this year and focus solely on your studies-"

"What if I don't want to drop Quidditch?" Harry said heatedly. "What if I were to tell you that it's one of the only things that keep me sane and happy around here and that I was miserable without it last year?"

"Mr. Potter, calm down-"

"How am I supposed to calm down when you're telling me that one of my favorite things in the world is being taken away from me because I've been piled down with work that I didn't ask for and responsibilities that I didn't ask for, all because Dumbledore doesn't think I can handle it?!"

"Professor Dumbledore to you, Potter," she said briskly, "And he is not the one making this decision, I am. Now calm down and continue this discussion like the adult you claim you are."

Harry felt his skin burning in anger and found his fists had clenched, but although her comment stung him it also made him feel ashamed enough to settle down. He took a deep breath and un-balled his fists.

"Now," McGonagall continued, "What I was going to say is that although I do not believe it wise of you to continue with Quidditch, it is still your decision to make and the position as Captain is still open to you if you choose to take it. However, I have warned you and if you take this responsibility I expect it to be fulfilled correctly and without excuses or complaints. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry mumbled, now fully ashamed of his outburst. He had to get himself under control.

"Very well, consider yourself the new Gryffindor Quidditch Captain; I have already reserved the pitch for tryouts next Friday evening and it is now your responsibility to meet with me in order to arrange reservations for the season."

Harry nodded his head to show he understood.

"Okay, you may continue on to your dinner," she dismissed. However, before he made it two steps she added, "Oh, and do keep in mind that I hold every right to remove the position from you if I do not find your school results satisfactory."

He nodded again numbly and headed inside, sitting down beside Ron.

"What was that all about?" Ron asked him.

"She was just informing me that I made Quidditch Captain," Harry said modestly.

"Congratulations!" Ron said, thumping him on the back. "That's excellent! We'll win for sure this year!"

Hermione, however, apparently viewed it differently. "How do you plan on balancing this along with everything else you've got to do?" she asked skeptically.

Harry cast a pleading half smile. "Hopefully with your help." He turned to Ron as well, "And yours."

"And how am I supposed to help?" Ron asked.

"I'm going to need help coming up with new plays and strategies aren't I? Who else would be better for me to ask?"

"Alright, wicked," Ron said approvingly, taking a bite of his mashed potatoes.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, tilting his head and poking out his bottom lip.

She sighed and caved in, "Oh, alright. Of course I'll help. You didn't really expect me to resist, did you?"

"No, I just thought I'd make it look like I was asking rather than expecting it," Harry teased.

Hermione flicked a pea at him from across the table.

"Watch it," she warned, though she was smiling.

After they finished dinner they headed back up to Gryffindor Common Room where Ron took it upon himself to announce loudly to the entire congregation, "Hey, guess what? Harry's been made the new Quidditch Captain!"

There was a loud uproar and many `Congratulations' being yelled at him from around the room, as well as many handshakes. After practically every single person mentioned their approval the hubbub finally died back down again and Harry was able to stop holding his grin and turn on Ron with a slight frown.

Ron met his glance and said, "What?! I figured they ought to know, and look- they like you Harry, they really like you!"

Harry laughed and shoved him lightly on the shoulder. They were going to head upstairs when Mark approached him with a short, black-haired girl Harry didn't recognize. Hermione suddenly squeezed his hand quickly and he knew she was making a silent reference to the discussion they had earlier.

"Congratulations on making captain, Harry!" Mark said, although Harry knew he didn't even really understand the concept of Quidditch yet.

"Thanks," he replied, smiling once again.

"This here's Christine," Mark introduced, pulling the girl gently in front of him to face Harry. "She said she's read all about you and I told her that we know each other from back in Surrey but she didn't believe me. She didn't believe that you told me about how you made Voldemort flee."

There was a sharp intake of breath from both Ron and Christine and Hermione flinched a little beside him at the mention of Voldemort's name.

Christine was quick to correct him. "Don't say his name," she hissed.

"Oh," Mark said apologetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't know we weren't supposed to say it, Harry says it…"

"You do?" Christine asked him with wide saucer eyes.

"Um, yeah- I don't have any problem saying Voldemort."

Christine jumped and Ron grunted.

"Would you stop saying his name all the time?" Ron asked in a strained voice. "And don't go telling these little ones to start tossing it around…They don't understand yet, it's better for them to avoid saying it because people will yell at them. Only you and Dumbledore say it, and the way I figure it is that you have a right to if you wish, but these little midgets don't understand what they're saying."

"Er, we're standing right here you know," Christine piped up bluntly.

Harry laughed while Ron's ears turned red and Hermione, seemingly approving of this young girl standing in front of them, extended her hand to her.

"Hi Christine, I'm Hermione Granger; it's nice to meet you. And yes, Ron tends to do that."

Christine and Mark laughed lightly, causing Ron's forehead and face to glow red as well.

"Very funny," Ron said. "I'm Ron Weasley," he added.

"I do know Mark," Harry began. "It's nice to see he's already made a friend. Do you read a lot then, or were you raised a witch?"

"Oh, I simply love reading; I've already read all of our course books, which I hope will be enough. I never even knew such a thing as magic existed, until I got my letter a few months ago."

"Neat," Harry said. A quick proud smile flickered on the girl's face and then Mark led her off again with a `goodbye.'

"That girl seems nice," Hermione said.

"She reminds me of someone else I know," Harry said, exchanging a look with Ron, who nodded in return.

"Yeah, only I don't think Hermione was quite that out-spoken to older classmates at that age," Ron said.

They both smirked at Hermione, who luckily took it as a complement and didn't take offense to it.

"I'm off to bed," she said, stifling a yawn. "Goodnight you two."

"'Night Hermione," they said together, heading up the winding stairs to their dormitory.

Inside they found Neville, Dean, and Seamus already dressed in their pajamas and hopping into their beds.

Harry looked at his bed longingly. He suddenly felt extremely exhausted and all he wanted was to collapse on the soft mattress and rest his head on a fluffy pillow. However, before he even managed to button up his pajama shirt, he was addressed by a voice from another bed.

"Where were you all day?" Seamus demanded.

Harry yawned, fingers fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. "I'm too tired to explain it now, I'll tell you later."

With that he slid under his covers and closed his eyes against the candle-lit room.

"I heard you aren't taking any classes with us this year," Seamus continued, attempting to force an explanation out of him, "That you're too great to bother with classes anymore, just like Granger."

Harry knew Seamus was just trying to provoke him to get him to tell him, but he was too tired to care. He wished he'd quit so he could get some rest.

To Harry's gratification, Ron said, "Quiet Seamus. Let him be. He said he'd tell you tomorrow and he will; and as for Hermione, we all know that she deserves it, so don't go off teasing her for the fun of it. Just drop it and go to sleep."

"Okay, you don't have to tell me twice. Sheesh, Ron. I was only joking."

"Yeah, well it isn't funny."

"Fine, fine…sorry."

Harry heard Seamus pull his curtain hangings closed around his bed and Neville and Dean do the same. He opened one of his eyes and caught Ron's attention, who was rolled over facing him. Holding Ron's eye contact, he silently mouthed a `thank you' which was met by a swift smile from Ron before he too closed his hangings around his bed. Before Harry even heard Neville's snores, he was fast asleep.

Author's Note: As always, I thank whoever is reading this for taking the time out of their busy lives to take notice of something I've been pouring some of my time into. Nothing is more satisfying than knowing your work is being read. Well, that is besides knowing that your work is appreciated. Please let me know if it's worth continuing and specifically what you liked/disliked about it (though preferably the former).

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