Chapter 2
Dark Arts and Death's Head
Sitting in the Arithmancy class, Hermione let her mind wander, which was strange for her as she tended to remain focused on her lessons, but try as she might she could not keep her mind fixed on the subject at hand. Over and over in her mind she could see the image of Harry being struck down by the Dark Lord, replaying the scene right up until she too had been hit with the death curse. She shuddered as she recalled exactly how it had felt to have her life drained from her body, the blackness that followed.
Pull yourself together. It was just a dream. It was just a nasty dream. She thought to herself as she pulled her attention back to the class, just in time for her to hear Professor Vector declare the lesson over, and informing the class what homework they had to complete for their next lesson. The look the professor gave Hermione was questioning. The young woman felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment.
Making her way back to the Gryffindor House, Hermione managed to keep her head clear, free from all thoughts, other than the Arithmancy homework. Before she knew where she was, the portrait of the Fat Lady was in front of her, waiting for her to intone the correct password to gain entrance to the common room, where she knew her friends would be waiting for her.
Before she was able to open her mouth, a group of first years rushed passed her, brushing her cloak into a billow, their actions causing the portrait to give them a very unkind stare.
"Where are your manners?" The pink dressed woman grumbled.
"Cherry Pancake!" A young boy cried out, wanting to get inside.
The Fat Lady mumbled a few words, but finally relented to let them through once several of the first years began calling out the password in a kind of chant. The portrait rolled her eyes in exasperation and revealed the hole to the common room. As Hermione passed through, she could have sworn she heard the Fat Lady grumbling about 'this kind of behaviour never happened when Dumbledore was alive'.
Frowning, Hermione continued through the hole, and entered the common room, the first years milling around almost obstructing her way. Sitting by the fire, she saw Harry and Ron, their faces revealing that they were in a serious conversation. So engrossed in their chat, they failed to look up at her approach.
"So what were you and Hermione doing last night?" Ron's voice did not sound at all happy.
Harry sighed. "I told you, Ron. I couldn't sleep and she couldn't sleep following a nightmare." His voice sounded exasperated, as if he was not repeating this story for the first time. "We just talked and then did some research…"
"And you fell asleep in the chair," Ron interrupted, cutting Harry off mid-sentence. "But why did she tell you about it and not me?"
Shaking his head, Harry slumped back in the seat. "Because you were asleep, Ron, and she never told me about it. But next time Hermione has a nightmare that keeps her awake, I'll make sure to call you." He moved to rise from his seat, his movements causing both to look round, spotting Hermione, who was glaring at them both, particularly Ron.
There was no secret that they had grown close over the summer, had spent a little time together, but they could not leave Harry to his own devices, so they had snatched moments here and there. They were fond of each other, there was no getting away from that, but they still seemed to fall out over the silliest little thing. The summer had not been full of roses like she had imagined it would be. There had been little of the kissing and snogging like he had shared with Lavender, during their relationship.
Hermione knew that if something was worth keeping then it was worth working for, but since returning to Hogwarts, things had almost returned to normal.
"What are you two doing?" Hermione flicked her gaze between them, before perching herself on the arm of Ron's chair. She could tell from their open books that they had begun to do some homework, but they did not appear to have gotten far.
Harry shrugged. "We were…ah…just reading the next chapter for Dark Arts. The new Professor is supposed to be there today."
The post had once again been filled, another new teacher. Hermione was surprised with all the different people who had covered the role over the last six years that the three of them had passed their OWLs. She was sure that it would be a little more difficult passing their NEWTs, especially after what had happened last year.
"I'll leave you to it." Hermione smiled and slipped off the chair, only to feel a hand clasp her wrist, stopping her from moving further than a few steps away.
Ron looked up at her. "I thought you were going to tell us about this dream you had." He released her arm, the glare she gave him enough to wither roses.
Sitting forward in his seat, Harry suddenly seemed to no longer want to leave. "The sooner you tell us, the sooner we stop asking about it." He gave her an encouraging smile.
Hermione released a long sigh, as if she had repeated the story more times than enough, and to herself she had. Suddenly the thought of having to put into words what she had seen scared her. The idea of looking into Harry's face and telling him that she had dreamed he had died seemed wrong, especially following all that had happened to him, but she knew he was telling the truth. Neither boy had ever seen her kept awake by a nightmare before, normally she just brushed them aside. This one refused to be ignored.
Moving her eyes, between her two friends, she gave them a weary smile. "I don't remember it all, just the end really." She paused as once more the scene flashed before her eyes. "You, Harry, were fighting…You Know, and the rest of us were all in little fights of our own."
"Who was I fighting?" Ron raised an eyebrow questioningly.
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know, I can't even remember who I was fighting, I just know that Harry was in a battle with him." Her gaze rested on Harry for a minute, her eyes reflecting sadness.
"Then what happened?" The impatient voice of Ron once more cut into the story.
Harry frowned. "I think I know." His voice sounded dejected to Hermione's ears. "We didn't win, did we?"
Once again, Hermione looked at him and slowly shook her head. "No, he…he…" She could not form the word.
"Killed me?" Harry asked quietly.
"But it's a dream." Hermione looked between the two, feeling something hanging in the air that did not make her feel at all comfortable. "Just a silly dream. We've all had them, haven't we?" She asked, hopefully. But even to her own ears she sounded like she was trying to convince herself.
Ron nodded before breaking the silence that had fallen between them. "Sure, I have bad dreams all the time. Only last week I was being chased around Hogwarts by a huge chocolate frog." He frowned suddenly. "I guess that's what comes from eating so many before bed."
Hermione smiled at Ron, and then turned to face Harry, who was still looking thoughtful. "It doesn't mean anything, Harry." Her brow creased. But it felt so real.
Closing the book that rested on his lap, Harry gave her a grin. "I just don't like you losing sleep over me." He rose from the chair, his book tucked under his arm. "We should get to Dark Arts. I would hate for us to give a bad impression to the new teacher. We don't want to start off like we did with Snape." He practically spat the last word.
Giving Ron a look that told him she was not exactly convinced by his act, Hermione rose and turned towards the hole, which Harry was just exiting through. Both she and Ron had to dash to catch up with him.
* * * * *
Shuffling her feet, Hermione looked around the group of students that waited outside the Dark Arts classroom for the new professor to arrive. They were standing slightly away from the others, who were all separated into their House groups, talking amongst themselves. She turned her attention to Harry, who still seemed to be quietly moping from their earlier conversation. If she could have jumped back in time, she would have not told him about the dream, and would have made some foolish story up about being chased by some enlarged food stuff. But she knew, that if she got to do it all again, she would still have told him the truth.
"I wonder what's keeping the professor." Hermione frowned, wanting to get on with the class. This was a very important year for them, which was already difficult enough with all the bad events happening. The school had seemed to lose some of its strictness. "We'd have been better off just continuing to read the chapter rather than standing here wasting time."
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a crisp voice, which had the power to stop all the conversations. "Then let us waste no more time." The door to the Dark Arts class had opened, and standing just inside the classroom was a tall thin woman, her features were pointed, making her appear almost like a stick. "Quickly, come in and take your seats."
Hermione rolled her eyes, and blushed slightly, as she followed Harry and Ron to their desk. Pulling out her book, she laid it on the table and opened it to the relevant chapter, as the rest of the students followed suit.
Her eyes soon fixed on the wraith of a witch, who stood at the front of the class. Behind her, on the blackboard, a piece of chalk danced across its surface, leaving a trail of white that spelt out 'Professor Augusta Stygian'.
"That introduces me, I believe, and now before we start I should get to know you all." The professor's gaze fixed instantly on Harry, as did all the eyes of the class. "This is one young man who needs no introduction. Harry Potter." She moved over to where he was sitting and stared at him for a moment.
Hermione could feel Harry growing agitated under the professor's gaze. And she could understand why. The woman appeared to look into Harry, not just at him, as if she could look inside and read what was buried there.
Then suddenly Professor Stygian's eyes shifted, until they were flicking between Ron and Hermione. "And I believe we have Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger here, from Gryffindor." She gave the three a warm smile, which had a very odd effect on the thin woman's face. Her skin seemed to pull tight over her bones, revealing a weird kind of Death's Head. "I am sure we will get to know each other a lot over the next year."
Hermione heard Ron gulp at the prospect. Harry made no noise at all, and his expression was unreadable from where she sat, but she felt sure that he was not comforted by the idea.
As if to explain herself, Professor Stygian went on. "Now that Professor McGonagall is Headmistress of Hogwarts, I have been made Head of Gryffindor." She gave the three a knowing smile, as if she could read their surprise, and moved on to the others in the class.
Ron turned his head, and in a lowered voice, said. "This sounds like it's going to be a fun year." He shook his head and frowned. "If looks could kill, hers would do it easily."
Harry nodded, his eyes following the professor as she made her way around the room. "She seems more suited for Slytherin. I'd give anything to have things back to how there were last year." Both Ron and Hermione stared at him, which caused him to lower his eyes to his book, as if he had not noticed.
Before either of them could speak, Professor Stygian reached the front of the class. Behind her, the chalk finished its task, and dropped into the tray that ran along the length of the blackboard. "In the current climate, use of the Dark Arts has become more than essential for protection. Over the next few weeks, we will be focusing more and more on the various wards and counter-spells that could save your lives." The class went deadly silent. "There is no reason to be alarmed, it is perfectly safe."
Harry turned to Ron and Hermione. "Not be alarmed? Dumbledore was killed in a place surrounded with wards." He shook his head. "The sooner we get started on our quest, and find and destroy all the pieces, only then will we stand a chance at being safe."
Hermione shivered as the image from her dream and the total blackness that had followed filled her mind…
* * * * *
"Hermione?"
Blinking open her eyes at the sound of Harry's voice, Hermione found herself lying on the floor of the Dark Arts classroom, with Harry and Ron on one side of her and Professor Stygian on the other, looking down at her, her brow creased with concern.
"Okay, let's give Miss Granger some room." The professor's voice sounded commanding, as the rest of the students gathered around took a step back. "Mr Potter, if you could give me a hand to get her to her feet."
Hermione felt herself eased off the ground, and soon found herself on her feet, looking around in a confused manner. "What…what happened?" Her voice sounded weak to her own ears.
"You fainted." Ron informed her, his expression full of surprise and concern.
"Fainted?" Hermione frowned, wondering what had caused it.
Professor place a hand on Hermione's forehead, causing her to shiver. "You'd better take her to Madam Pomfrey." Hermione shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but Professor Stygian cut her off. "Mr Potter, if you could take her there."
Ron frowned.
Hermione, catching his glance, managed a small smile. "I am feeling fine. I'd rather remain in the class." Despite the protestations of both Harry and Ron, she would not change her mind.
"Very well, Miss Granger." Professor Stygian frowned for the briefest moment, her eyes flashing with some hidden meaning that Hermione could not work out, before she once more smiled warmly, the Death's Head image returning. "Let us return to the lesson at hand."
* * * * *
Walking back to the Gryffindor House, Ron and Harry kept sharing covert looks when they thought Hermione was not looking, but she had known them both long enough to know that they were trying to work out which one of them would bring up the subject of what had happened in the Dark Arts class.
Eventually, Harry spoke, having lost the battle. "How are you feeling, Hermione?"
"It sure was strange you fainting like that." Ron piped up, confident now that the topic had been raised.
Hermione shrugged, her own mind had been filled during the walk back from class trying to decide what had caused her to black out. All she could remember was the scene from her dream, and then waking up on the floor. "It must have just been hot or something." She gave them a smile that revealed she was now feeling perfectly fine, and hoped that would bring the conversation to a close.
"It almost seemed to happen as Professor Stygian gave you one of those looks of hers." Ron mentioned conversationally. "It was damn odd."
Harry nodded his head in agreement. "She sure has a very unusual stare. I hate to say it, but she makes Snape seem normal." His eyes blazed with anger as he once more mentioned the name of Dumbledore's killer.
Looking even more confused, Hermione's face contorted, her eyebrows raised questioningly, her smile disappeared to be replaced by a grimace. "Did she use her wand, or have it in her hand when she looked at me?" The young woman did not feel like she had been hit by a spell, but she was not foolish enough to rule out the idea.
Both Harry and Ron shook their heads, as Harry spoke. "No, she had just put it down on her desk." He looked at Hermione. "You should have gone to see Madam Pomfrey, she would have known.
"It's nothing." Hermione smiled brightly, once more trying to bring the conversation to a close. "Did you see the amount of homework she set us?"
Harry groaned. "I'll be there all night reading those chapters."
"I don't anticipate getting any sleep tonight or for the next week." Ron concurred, as they approached the portrait of the Fat Lady.
Hermione grinned to herself, as she spoke aloud the password.