"To be fair, it was very clever." Tracey sympathized.
That didn't stop Draco Malfoy from repeating the story endlessly to everyone he could talk to, even Hufflepuffs that didn't particularly want to listen to him laughed at it. Hermione Granger had not only succeeded in besting Harry in the duel, but she had also embarrassed him with the ease in which she stunned him.
Harry would fume and grumble if he wasn't so impressed by the intricate spell she had chosen to cause a reflection of herself. Tracey told him that when he thought she sprinted behind the boulder, that was actually the mirror image of her that she was creating the whole time. All she had to do was wait until he exposed himself fully and she just walked up behind him to stun him.
"We saw it coming and we wanted to yell out a warning at you, but by that time, Snape had cast a sound barrier that didn't let us say anything," Tracey explained. "That was so…so…"
"…cunning of her," Harry finished as they paced around the lake. Blaise was nearby, trying to harass people to take on another bet after he had lost fifty Galleons to Ron Weasley of all people when he had bet on Harry against Granger.
"I bet you've never held fifty Galleons in your life before, Weasley. Don't bust out of your pants when you touch it," Blaise had sharply commented as he threw him the pouch with the fifty Galleons after Battle class was over and everyone had dueled once.
Tracey had won against Dean Thomas, while Blaise had predictably lost against Draco. Still, the talk of the class was how Hermione Granger, the Gryffindor Muggleborn, bested Harry Potter, now currently twentieth on the Master List. While he did have to deal with some of the snide comments on being beaten by Granger, not as many people were mad at him over this initial pre-year ranking of tenth. They all seemed to conclude that it was just an aberration by the staff and he would be out of the top fifty in no time.
"No one will take bets on you in a re-match," Blaise grumbled. "You were my winning horse and now you've gone and lost all of my action."
"What's horses got to do with it?" Harry asked.
"Racing horses? My Mum married a gambling Muggle once but then he died of some heart illness. I think that's is where I got this from. Anyways, you have to challenge her again."
"To what? A practice duel? What would that prove?"
"That you're better? Harry, we can't have you losing to Granger of all people. She's first now on the Years List!"
"Blaise, why don't you concentrate on your own ranking and less on mines? At this rate, you're going to be down near Longbottom."
Blaise wrinkled his nose in disgust, his dark complexion twisting in horror. "I would never let myself stoop so low."
"Keep on slacking and you will." Harry pointed out.
"I'm slacking?! You lost, Harry!"
"You lost too!"
"Boys," Tracey said tiredly. "Can we just agree that I'm better than both of you?"
Harry and Blaise stopped in mid-step, staring at her with wide eyes. She smiled at them innocently, batting her dark eyelashes, and said, "What?"
They leapt at her, tackling her to the ground, shrieking while they tickled her sides.
"Stop it! Stop it!" she yelled between giggles, "I give!"
Out of breath, Harry leant a hand to help her up. "Watch yourself, Davis. Next thing you know, your head will be the size of Malfoy's."
"Speaking of which," she frowned, "He asked me again to help him with his Charms homework. What part of no does that boy not understand?"
"If his parents are anything like mines, they never said no," Blaise said."
Tracey nodded thoughtfully. "This is true. Same of mines."
Harry stayed quiet, continuing the walk around the lake during their free period. Of course, he had no input on what his parents would have said. Would they have told him no? He imagined they would, but then again, Uncle Dursley always said no. It was when Harry said no that he would start facing the consequences of the cupboard under the stair and the belt.
"Harry, are you even listening?" Blaise whined on.
"What is it this time?"
"I asked you what you thought about Daphne Greengrass. Trace doesn't like her that much but I reckon its because she's got a bigger set of knockers than her."
"Oh yes, that's the only reason why." Tracey rolled her eyes as she punched Blaise in the shoulder.
"Those things need to have their own pair of Omnioculars on them."
"Blaise, you fucking twat, stop that!" Tracey punched him again.
"Stationary ones too," Harry quipped.
"Harry!"
"Sorry, Trace," Harry said with an impish grin as they finished their lap around the lake.
"Perverts, the lot of you. Why is that I don't hang around Daphne and Millicent more?"
"Because Millicent probably wants a piece of your pie and you're jealous of Daphne's impressive set of…"
"Blaise. One more word. Please. Just say one more word," Tracey warned.
"One more word of what?" asked another girl as she fell in step with them.
Pansy Parkinson was a strange character, snobbish most of the times but capable of being friendly when put to the task. Though Harry often saw her hanging around, or more likely, hanging on Draco, she was Tracey's closest friend out of her dormitory.
"Blaise keeps going on about Daphne."
"Oh? That whore? Blaise, you could do better than that." Pansy snorted at Daphne's name.
"Is that an offer?" Blaise grinned.
"Option's always on the table."
"Pansy, if you wanted to do it on the table, you just have to ask."
"I would appreciate it if you two would just stop. There is too much innuendo flying around here and I'm a little tired of imagining Blaise in various states of undress." Tracey made a gagging motion.
"Does your imagination fulfill your desires? You know what they say, once you go black, you never…OH NOOO…"
Blaise keeled over, holding his groin as Tracey stepped back with a satisfied look on her face. Harry and Pansy shook their heads as they stopped in the middle of the Hogwarts grounds to watch Blaise writhe on the ground.
"Priceless…family…antiques…" Blaise managed to wheezed as he hunched over.
---------------
After an uneventful Charms class where they just did a quick overview of last year's spells, Harry departed for Trow's classroom so he could finally review the duel on the Stationary Omnioculars. Classes were already over and there were a few other kids in the room, most of them Fifth Years and above. A couple Gryffindors, one being the dreadlocked Lee Jordan, snickered as he walked by but he ignored it.
Taking a seat and pulling out a parchment and a quill, Harry pressed his face against the two eye sockets and watched from the very beginning. The advantage of Stationary Omnioculars wasn't only that he could replay the entire duel. The Stationary Omnioculars also had multiple vantage points so he could observe the duel from a variety of positions.
First, he focused on his side of the duel. He watched himself jump down from the ledge, maneuvering his way around the rocks as he traded a few early spells with Granger. He reached the point where Granger oddly fired the Jelly-Legs Jinx at him.
"Why would she do that?" Harry mumbled to himself as he wrote down, Jelly-Legs?
It was an obvious opportunity to hit him with a stronger spell since he was exposed on top of the rock, but she had passed it up to hit him with a First-Year spell. While he could have easily blocked a Stunner or an Expelliarmus, he didn't expect that. Perhaps that's why she chose that particular spell, but how could she have known that he wouldn't be able to block it?
Telegraph spell? He jotted down next, trying to see if there was any way he tipped off his Protego. Yet, there was none that he could find. His arm was still down and he could just have easily jumped out of the way instead of raising a shield, so how did she know he wouldn't be able to block a Jelly-Legs?
Continuing, Harry scowled as he watched himself try to use Bombarda to bring her out of hiding. In retrospect, it was a poor decision as it played right into her hands of dodging from cover to cover while he used valuable magical resources in simply trying to flush her out of hiding. At least he recognized it at the time, something he thought gave him a slight advantage over everyone except for Granger apparently.
Don't over extend yourself, he wrote.
It was a mistake driven by pride and ego as he wanted Granger to come out for an open duel instead of hiding and creeping along the rocks. Then again, Snape didn't care about the fairness in which someone duel.
Win at all costs, Harry scribbled.
But then he watched the last stanza of the duel as he crept around the boulder slowly. Zooming in and watching it in slow motion, he confirmed that he did indeed hit the mirror image of Granger. It was the illusion that she had fallen out of sight that did him in, though one could argue that he was doomed as he soon as he thought that it was actually Granger behind that boulder and not just an apparition of her.
He knew that his problem was being too aggressive, but he believed that being aggressive gave him a slight edge when it came to duels. Aggression would let you control the tempo and pace of the duel, but Granger must have expected it and lured him into a trap even after he had taken multiple precautions.
Sighing, he changed the camera view so that he could watch it from Granger's viewpoint this time.
She jumped down and immediately placed her back against the wall and started chanting under her breath and waving her wand at the ground. Granger did it continuously, ignoring Harry for all purposes and focusing on her spell. Harry reasoned that this must be the spell she used to create her doppelganger, but he couldn't make out the incantation. Could I ask her? Would she even tell me?
He hit forward and noticed that she didn't seem to care what spell he cast. Every time he would try and hit her with a spell, she automatically knew whether to duck or whether to bring up a shield. And then, in that curious moment where she cast the Jelly-Legs Jinx, he could see that she was specifically aiming for his legs, not even thinking of casting a Stunner.
Advanced knowledge of my spells?
It was practically impossible to predict a spell ahead of time unless she was incredibly gifted in reading postures, but it was too hectic and Harry judged that he was moving too much for her to be able to do such a thing. He had heard of Aurors and Hit Wizards that knew the spell as soon as a wizard shifted his foot, but Hermione couldn't be that good already. She was just a Third Year.
And you were just a Third Year and made top ten on the Master List, the voice in his head countered. Still, the differences were incomparable.
Pressing forward, Harry watched as Granger finally completed a spell during the time frame where he was trying to get closer to her without casting any spells. What he thought was just a chance look was actually a predetermined shot as she raised her head and found him. Harry realized it was a distraction, a way to force him out of sight so she could send her doppelganger running behind the isolated boulder.
Harry chided himself for being so stupid for thinking that Granger would trap herself like that. There was nothing to really force her into that direction and he had fallen for such an easy ploy. True, it might have taken him a little while to figure out that there was a doppelganger, but foolishly rushing forward was a reckless thing to do…a Gryffindor thing to do.
You can be both. It was a different voice in his head, one that belonged to the Sorting Hat, but he forced it out, reminding himself that he was a Slytherin: cunning, ambitious, and clever. He would beat Granger the second time around. He kept watching until the end, unwittingly admiring not only her technique and approach but the way her bangs fell across her forehead as she rushed forward when she approached him with her wand and stunned him at point blank range.
He leaned back, rubbing his eyes tiredly as watching replays through the Stationary Omnioculars tended to wear on his eyes. There was a smidgen of dirt on his glasses so he rubbed it with his shirt. As he placed the glasses back on the bridge of his nose, he noticed he was the only left in Trow's classroom.
"How long was I here?" Harry asked himself.
"It's nearly supper time," Trow answered from behind Harry.
Twisting in his seat, Harry turned around to see the pale professor collecting various bits of parchment that were lying around the classroom.
"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry apologized, "I'll be out of your way soon."
"Oh don't mind me, Harry. Feel free to continue studying. These days, I'm used to your presence here. You're one of the most studious students I have. Not the most studious, but you're up there."
"And who's here more than I am?"
Professor Trow smiled, a faint red splotch on his pale cheeks, "Why its the person you're watching of course."
"I don't see her here right now."
"She probably doesn't have to watch a replay to know how she beat you." Trow smiled knowingly again.
Harry flushed on the inside, knowing that word must have gotten around the castle quickly if Trow already knew about his defeat. "Excuse me, Professor, can I ask you a question?"
"Of course you can, Harry."
"Is there any way for someone to know what you're going to cast in advance? I mean, am I tipping off my spells or anything?"
Trow squinted his eyes, drawing his white eyebrows together in a way that made them disappear on his forehead. "Some Aurors and Hit Wizards have an innate talent for reading their opponents, but if you're asking if you have some sort of tell that gives away what spell you're going to use, a majority of people don't. That's just an exaggeration that Aurors use to inflate their own prowess."
"So there's no way?"
"There is not a concrete way. Are you wondering how Ms. Granger knew what you were going to cast?"
"I…how did you know that?" Harry frowned in confusion. Did Trow have a way of knowing what they were watching?
"Word travels fast around the castle, Harry." Trow winked at him. "But if you're so curious as to how she did it, why don't you just ask the young woman herself?"
"I don't think I can do that."
"Come now, Harry. You must be brave enough to talk to a girl even if she bested you."
"It's not that," Harry replied quickly, "It's just that…"
"…the Houses," Trow sighed. "A great and terrible invention at the same time. I can not specifically tell you how she knew Harry, but my only advice would be to ask her. The worst she can say is no."
The worst she could say is that I just wasn't good enough.
"Thank you, sir."
----------------------------
Harry had a fitful sleep, filled with dreams of multiple Hermione Grangers dancing around him in that same pit of jagged rocks. She kept chanting something that he couldn't quite decipher and every time he would try and curse her, another version of her just popped out of nowhere.
Food always replenished his rather low sugar levels in the morning and he hoped it would break him out of his bad mood. As he approached the Slytherin table, he spotted Snape conversing quietly with Mad-Eye Moody, leaning in and discussing something in private. He quickly averted his eyes, however, knowing that it was just as likely that Moody's magical eye was watching him.
Harry sat down across from Blaise and Tracey in his usual spot. Looking up, he found that Tracey's hair was in little ringlets that framed her heart-shaped face.
"Nice hair, Trace," Harry complimented.
"Thanks." She beamed at him.
"And the make-up too? Who are you trying to impress?" Harry asked as he stuffed a waffle in his mouth.
"Draco, of course."
Harry choked on the waffles slightly, forcing down a gulp of orange juice to wash it out. Tracey was smiling deviously at him while Blaise gave a soft clap with his hands.
"Well played. I'm impressed," Blaise nodded at her.
Tracey shrugged. "I have my moments."
"Seriously though." Harry wiped the residue waffle from his mouth with a napkin. "Why the get up?"
Again, Tracey shrugged nonchalantly. "No reason." With that, Harry dismissed it as another girly frivolity.
"What's on the schedule for today?" Harry asked.
"Creatures with the new professor with the Puffs. Transfiguration with the Griffs. Then Dueling with the Claws. After that, free period," Blaise answered.
"I don't see why we have to bother with Creatures. Unless you're going into that field, what's the point? Snape's never thrown us anything like that at us so far," Tracey said.
"So far being the key word. You have to be prepared, Tracey. We're just Third Years. Who knows what Snape's going to put in the Room of Requirement as we go on," Harry reminded her.
Curling an already curled strand of hair around her finger, Tracey sighed as she acknowledged Harry's point. Harry was about to speak again when a loud guffaw shattered his thoughts. Draco was heaving a fit with some of the older Slytherins and Harry could hear a snippet of his conversation.
"…and then the Mudblood just walks up behind him and stuns him in the back! You should have seen the look on Potter's face!"
As if by chance, though Harry knew it wasn't by chance as Draco had purposely raised his voice so he could hear, the blond boy turned towards Harry with a practiced smile on his ever pristine face.
"Slipping down the list, Potter!" Draco pointed at the black banner with gold writing.
Indeed, the magically changing list had already dropped Harry another three spots to twenty-third. Scanning down, Harry spotted Hermione Granger at seventy-seventh. No one quite knew how the teachers calculated the rankings, but it had to be on some sort of numeric grading system that rewarded points based on very different measures including the difficulty of your opponent. Otherwise, everyone in his year would just pick on poor Neville Longbottom.
"Hey, Draco. Where are you on the list?" Blaise innocently asked.
That dropped the smile off Draco's face.
"Just got to knock him down a peg, Harry. There's nothing a Malfoy hates more than being shown that he's less than what he thinks he is. That and having more money than them," Blaise added as an afterthought.
Another round of raucous laughter diverted Harry's attention towards the Gryffindor table as Weasley and Seamus Finnegan reenacted Harry's defeat. He spotted Granger shaking her head at the affair, but the small smile that crept on her face betrayed her faux disapproval at the dramatic show.
"Ignore them, Harry," Tracey said firmly.
"I'm ignoring them." Just like I'll remember each and every one of them.
The migration out of breakfast this time was uneventful as the Gryffindors were headed in an opposite direction. Predictably, the Hufflepuffs let the Slytherin group past first into the Creatures classroom and Harry suppressed an eye roll at their politeness. Despite that, he reminded himself of Trow's lesson and his own subsequent defeat at the hands of Granger. It wasn't good to underestimate an opponent, no matter how easy the task may look. Don't take anything at face value, Trow's words ringed in Harry's ears.
"Take a seat, take a seat!" The drab professor waved them all in as they filed into two distinct groups, the Hufflepuffs on the right side of the classroom and the Slytherins on the left.
"Ouch, watch it, Trace!" Blaise complained as Tracey flopped into the seat next to Harry.
"I want the front seat," Tracey explained. "You're not going to be listening anyways."
"Didn't have to bowl me over for it," Blaise muttered as he sat behind them with Pansy.
Harry leaned over and whispered, "He really isn't anyways."
"He never does." Tracey rolled her eyes and Harry appreciated how starkly blue they were.
"Welcome everyone to Creatures. I'm Professor Lupin and hopefully I'll be here longer than your previous teacher." The Hufflepuffs chuckled at this while the Slytherins simply continued to listen.
"Well." Lupin coughed to clear his throat. "Let's not delay this with a review of last year. I'm sure you're all eager to move on. Can anyone tell me the characteristics of a werewolf?"
"They turn into werewolves under a full moon," Ernie MacMillan answered.
"Ingenious, MacMillan," Draco drawled from the back of the classroom, drawing a couple chuckles at the expense of the pimpled Hufflepuff.
"Ingenious and correct it is." Lupin smiled without skipping a beat. "Anything else?"
"They tend to favor raw meat. In general, they're loners because they don't want to be discovered by other people or else they live in a pack with other werewolves. They are also often ill around the time of the full moon. The only known potion to prevent them from losing all control is the Wolfsbane potion," Blaise listed off several facts, counting them with his fingers. Not well known for participating in class, Blaise shrugged as he spotted the curious glances his way.
"What? I thought my Mum's third husband was a werewolf. I figured I'd know the facts. As it turns out, he wasn't. Silver didn't kill him but some sort of lung failure did."
Professor Lupin chuckled, his worn clothes shifting around his body as he did. "But Mr. Zabini is indeed correct on all counts. Werewolves differ from regular wolves, of course, but it would be easy to tell the difference if you ever see one up close. I don't think you'll need a textbook for that. But is there anything else?"
"Well, werewolves are different from Animagus in that they can't help and transform, but the curse doesn't generally pass along with children. Not that I know a lot of werewolves that have children, mind you," Blaise continued to add.
"Anyone besides Mr. Zabini?"
But no one had anything else to add as Lupin paced around the classroom with his hands behind his back. Harry idly wondered if all teachers practiced that particular walking style, covering the ground with long strides with their hands behind their backs. Creatures was already boring him, even if it was a slightly more intriguing topic like werewolves. Wait until we get back to the worms.
"No one? What if I told you there was a werewolf in this room?"
Harry's head immediately snapped up. Now this is interesting. He shifted his eyes around the classroom, briefly meeting Tracey, who could only give him an amused look.
"Not me, Trace." Harry grinned at her.
"I know that, you idiot." Still, Tracey nervously looked around the classroom, twirling her hair like she did whenever she was on edge.
But Harry already knew that it wasn't likely someone in the classroom. After three years, he would have figured to find any distinguishable werewolf patterns even if he didn't speak to Hufflepuffs on a regular basis. It certainly wasn't any of the Slytherins as they would be immediately figured out based on illness around the full moon. And none of the Hufflepuffs really fit the bill either.
Don't take anything at face value.
And then Harry grinned as he figured it out.
"Any guesses as to who it may be?" Lupin continued to innocently posture.
The rest of the students were also shifting uncomfortably in their seats as they tried not to accusingly look at each other. Everyone except for Draco, who had pushed his chair so far back to survey everyone that he couldn't even reach his desk with his arms outstretched.
"Mr. Potter? It seems you've figured it out." Lupin approached him.
"Well. I think it's you, sir," Harry replied.
Tracey gasped next to him and he felt a fit of annoyance at her. He didn't often get annoyed by her, but why should she have that sort of reaction? He was just a werewolf and obviously wasn't salivating at the mouth or attacking anyone in the moment. Still, she pressed herself away from Lupin and closer to Harry until he could smell the potions in her hair.
"No need to be alarmed, Ms. Davis. Obviously, there's no fur on my body right now." Professor Lupin smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I'm leaving," Draco stood up, hastily gathering his things.
"No you are not, Mr. Malfoy," Lupin dropped the smile and his tone turned cold and Harry swore he could detect the smallest growl in the back of his throat.
Draco paled at the command, his hands stopping in mid-air as he fought the urge to run. In part, Harry was amused by Draco's reaction. There was always a lot of talk with him, and that was what Draco was skilled at. In the face of a werewolf though, Draco seemed to shrink like so many of his classmates. He sat back down hesitantly, keeping both eyes plastered on the graying head of Professor Lupin.
"I've been told that many of you think this class is a joke, but I assure you that Headmaster Snape wouldn't include it if it wasn't. Now you know that your teacher is a werewolf. Creatures can be dangerous, but they can also be benign. It's in how you perceive them and react to them. Much like you have to judge your opponents, you also have to judge the level of danger from a creature. Do I look dangerous to you?" Lupin rhetorically asked, his voice louder and filled with a stronger tenor.
The class was silent except for the anxiety-ridden movements. Susan Bones' leg was bouncing up and down faster than a metronome while Theodore Nott kept cracking his knuckles over and over again. Tracey's hair was starting to lose its ringlets shape as she kept twisting it around her finger. Harry gently touched her elbow and she jumped.
"It's okay. He's not a werewolf right now."
Tracey nervously tittered. "Tell me that in a couple of weeks."
"Judging from your looks when I entered, none of you really thought much of me and my rather shabby clothes. I assure you that I'm perfectly nice and that I don't bite most of the time. But this is a wake up call for all of you that thought you weren't going to take this class as seriously as the rest of your studies. Creatures are dangerous and you need to understand them."
Lupin walked to the front of the classroom and pointed his wand so that the white screen fell down and a projector magically whizzed its gears and displayed an image of a werewolf crouched over a bloody body.
"Welcome to Creatures."
---------------------------
Word had reached to the rest of the school that Professor Lupin was a werewolf and Harry was disgruntled at the mostly negative reactions they had. Professor Flitwick was half-goblin, but no one was ever afraid of him or thought he was going to steal their Galleons in the middle of the night. But he kept it to himself, knowing that it would be a long crusade and lots of head-bash-wall to explain to people why Lupin wasn't dangerous when he wasn't a werewolf. Besides, Headmaster Snape already knew and Snape was coldly calculating. He was letting Lupin teach Creatures for a reason.
Blaise, interestingly enough, was fascinated by Lupin's lycanthropy. "Do you think he eats all of his meat raw? Or does he like it cooked when he's a human? What about his clothes? Do you think that's why he has a bunch of shabby clothes? In case he turns to a wolf and he doesn't have his 'wolf clothes' on."
"I'm sure Lupin doesn't carry around wolf clothes," Harry answered.
"Harry," Blaise said in a skeptical tone, "Think if you were a wolf. Say you were turning into a wolf that night. Would you really want your best pair of trousers on? And you, Tracey. Would you really want your fanciest knickers on?"
"My knickers are none of your concern, Blaise."
"Point still stands." Blaise gestured as they turned the corner to reach the Dueling classroom.
Transfiguration was a boring affair as Professor McGonagall went out of her way to sap any horsing around. She was particularly mean to the Slytherins, except interestingly enough, to Harry. While she still wasn't nice to him by any stretch, her face softened and her verbal blows didn't land nearly as hard when she scolded him for a mistaken Transfiguration.
Harry had done his best to sit as far away from Granger as possible in that class and Tracey, thankfully, offered to be a buffer. Draco, apparently recovered from his run-in with Lupin, took the time for some choice comments, but for once, McGonagall's strictness was to Harry's benefit. Even Malfoy kept the snide to a minimum around her. Harry thought McGonagall was almost unhappy to be teaching at Hogwarts by the way she acted.
Mad-Eye Moody, as they called him from his rebellious Auror days, was sitting down with his staff perched on his side. He was looking at each student as they entered but his magical eye was skimming over a paper on his desk. Harry took a seat near the front, per usual, and this time, Blaise beat Tracey to the punch to sit beside him.
Harry didn't really mind who sat next to him, but for some reason, Tracey gave a disappointed glare at Blaise as she passed by.
"What?" Blaise scoffed. "I'm tired of sitting next to Pansy."
Instead, Tracey sat with Nott this period.
While Dueling wasn't as active as Battle class, Moody still had a more hands-on approach when it came to things. In this class, Harry usually learned spells instead of actually enacting them. Moody would usually have the perform spells on each other to see their effects and ensure that they could cast it. Sometimes, they would duel to show examples of how they could be used within a match.
"Alright, you ingrates. Let's start." Moody grumbled as he hoisted himself up with the magical staff that doubled as his wand.
"Snape wants me to teach you some more spells, but let's do something else today. I know you got your silly spells and incantations, but most wizards and witches don't even say nothing when they cast a spell. I'm sure most of you with wizard parents know that they don't run around saying Expelliarmus or Evanesco. In time, it will come natural to you, but I figured you better learn it now."
"Let's start with something simple." Moody pointed his wand at Harry and a sharp sting on his hand immediately followed.
"A Stinging Hex. Don't hurt that much, just feels like a bite. Now, DON'T say the hex out loud. Don't even think about it. Don't think about the word at all. Just concentrate on what it does and giving your friend a sharp poke. Everyone pair up!" Moody barked, stomping his staff on the ground.
Harry naturally paired with Blaise and they stood facing each other. Blaise grinned and said, "I'll go first."
Furrowing his dark eyebrows, Blaise scrunched his face and pointed his wand at Harry's hand, but unlike with Moody, he felt nothing.
"You look constipated."
"Shut up, let me try again." Blaise wiped his hands down on his robes like it would do anything. Sometimes, Harry marveled at how basic his friend was.
Nothing.
"Let me?" Harry raised his wand in a question.
"Go ahead," Blaise sighed in resignation.
Harry pointed his wand and concentrated on the feeling of the Stinging Hex against his skin. He knew it worked when Blaise suddenly jumped, dropping his wand and clutching his hand to his chest.
"Oh you…you…son of a…ow…"
"Good, Potter!" Moody barked as he limped around the classroom on his wooden leg. "Come on, Zabini. Let's see it."
Blaise huffed and picked up his wand off the ground to try again. Pointing his wand adopting a wider stance, Blaise even gave the wand a flick but again nothing happened. Yelping, Blaise dropped his wand again as Moody hit him with a wordless Stinging Hex this time.
"Let that be incentive to get it right," Moody growled. "Again!"
"Alright!" Blaise yelled back, knowing he could do that only with Moody. The grizzled ex-Auror wasn't one for standard convention when it came to being a professor.
Blaise didn't hesitate this time, slashing down with his wand and this time, Harry felt the sting of the hex even though it wasn't strong enough to force him to drop his wand like he did to Blaise.
"Better." Moody said in a one word congratulations. He limped around then and moved on to yell at some Ravenclaws that just couldn't get it right.
"Merlin, I hate him," Blaise grumbled as Moody faded away.
"I HEARD THAT, ZABINI."
----------------
Harry used the free period to once again head to Trow's classroom, weakly fending off Tracey's protestations that he should relax. He wouldn't relax until he found out how Granger knew what spells he was going to cast. If he had to review matches from his Second Year. He would do it. Granger must have found something that tipped her off.
Trow wasn't surprise when he entered the classroom and he gave the pale professor a slight nod before sitting down in front of the Stationary Omnioculars and flipping out the same parchment with hasty notes again. He watched three matches of his own but found nothing that could have informed Granger of what spell he was about to cast.
After a couple hours of frustration, Harry pulled back from the Stationary Omnioculars to find that the classroom was empty save for Professor Trow again. Trow was busy at his desk, presumably grading papers and such. Harry had half a mind to ask the professor again if there were any possible indicators, but the white-haired man had been adamant about the exaggeration of tells.
The door opened and inside stepped the girl in question, her backpack slung around her shoulder. She greeted Professor Trow and walked towards the rows of Stationary Omnioculars and spotted Harry sitting down at one. There was a falter in her walk as she apparently decided to use a different Omniocular. The only form of acknowledgement from her was another small nod of the head.
I have to ask her. I have to know.
"Granger," Harry called out. "Can I ask you something?"
She dropped her bag in front of a station and looked at him expectantly. Not the most courteous, this one.
"How'd you know?"
"That I was going to beat you?"
Her cockiness threw him off balance. "No," Harry drew out the word, "How'd you know what spells I was going to cast."
She shrugged, sitting down so he could only see the top of her head. "It's rather obvious, Potter."
"Obvious. How?" Once again, he was struck by how Ravenclaw she was. Did the House offer her two choices like it did to him?
"Just keep looking. It's right in front of your face," she answered, already burying her face into the eye sockets of the Omnioculars so all he could see was the bushy mass of hair surrounding it.
Two hours and a missed dinner later, Harry still did not see it.
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"How is he progressing?"
"Reacted well to the placement on the Master List and his peers reacted accordingly."
"I noticed that he did not confront you about the placement. Does he just not want to know or does he believe he really is tenth?"
"It wouldn't surprise me either way. There is a bit of arrogance about it, but he's aware of it. The drawings for his first Battle class weren't random as I wanted to test him against a subject he hadn't dueled against."
"And he lost."
"An aberration. The Muggle-born used an advanced spell that's above their learning grade."
"Are you saying that he can't make adjustments to unknown spells? Perhaps we should scale back the level of difficulty for this."
"No. I'm saying that faced with the same duel again, he would win. He is already obsessing over how to beat the Muggle-born during their next duel."
"And do you intend to pit them against each other soon?"
"No. It's best to keep a confusing array at him so he learns to adjust on the fly. If we align him with expectations, the adjustments will be too easy."
"So what next?"
"Group movements and his ability to lead. I believe he has made great progress since the First Year."
"His First Year was a disaster."
"It wasn't a disaster. While there was some naiveté, he showed a lack of fear that was promising."
"I still think that you are pushing too much on him. What if he isn't ready?"
"These are my decisions to make. The progress must be accelerated."
"He shows great promise, but he is still raw. Still learning. You ask too much of him from the beginning by placing him so high on the Master List. Let him learn."
"He will learn faster this way. He will learn while fending off others. It is better this way than to walk him slowly. He is already fearless but it is unchecked, unbalanced. He needs to start thinking diagonally instead of laterally. If he is presented with tasks that seem impossible, he will rise faster than if he simply achieved medium-level goals."
"I hope you're right in that."
"I am right. You forge solid steel by dipping it into the fire, not by slowly bending it until its straight."
"And if the fire burns him?"
"Then we will just try again."
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A/N: Any guesses as to how Hermione knows? There were a few people wondering about Sirius and while he does make an appearance later in the story, his escape out of Azkaban isn't going to be a central storyline in this one. As always, reviews are welcome.