âAnd the chess champion wins again!â exclaimed Ron, after beating Harry spectacularly for the third time in less than an hour.
âOkay, I think thatâs enough humiliation for one day,â said Harry, glancing around at the small crowd that had gathered to watch Ron give Harry a rather thorough thrashing. Harry looked up at the common room clock. âWeâd better go. We have Charms with the Ravenclaws.â
Ron groaned, but grinned and picked up his bag. âI guess you just canât stand the heat of the chessboard, Harry.â
âRight, whatever you say,â he replied, cuffing his best mate around the head.
âJust because Iâm the strategist of the group,â said Ron as they made their way out of the portrait hole and down the seventh floor corridor, âdoesnât mean I deserve all this abuse.â
They continued their friendly banter until they reached the third floor charms corridor. Once inside Professor Flitwickâs classroom, they found that Hermione was already there and had saved them seats on either side of her.
âYouâre late! What kept you? You had a free period!â asked Hermione as soon as she spotted them, her equipment already set out neatly in front of her.
Ron flopped down in a seat next to her. âI was busy thrashing Harryâs arse at chess,â he said, trying to sound pompous and self-important, but spoiling the image when he started laughing.
âYou know, itâs really not that amazing,â huffed Harry, pretending to be insulted. âYouâve beaten me ever since we were eleven.â
âAh, the good old days,â Ron chuckled.
Hermione laughed. âThe innocent days.â
âAnd whatâs that supposed to mean?â said Ron, raising his eyebrows. Harry turned in his seat and tried to make the most angelic face possible.
âAre we no longer innocent?â he asked sweetly.
Hermione gave him a joking, narrow-eyed look. âYou could fool some with that look, but I know you too well.â
âI have no idea what youâre talking about, Hermione.â Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron. âDo you?â
âCourse not, mate. Never did.â
Tiny Professor Flitwick once again stood atop the pile of books on his chair and addressed the class in his squeaky voice. âHello, hello, welcome back! As you well know, you have just started your seventh year, and therefore, in June, you will all be sitting your N.E.W.T.s. These tests are taken in much the same way as your O.W.L.s, but test you not only on highly advanced skills, but also on all skills you have learned throughout your seven years of school, so it is important not only to learn your seventh-year material well, but also to revise things you learned in your earlier years.â
Harry looked sideways at Hermione, who had her head bowed over an already half-filled page of notes. He and Ron shared a glance, but had to look away quickly to stop from laughing out loud.
Harry picked up his quill and dipped it in his ink with a sigh. He had better take a few notes or else feel Hermioneâs wrath later. This was going to be a long year.
âI want seven inches on Charms useful around the household, due in two weeks, please, and how they are useful.â
Ron rolled his eyes. âFirst day!â he muttered to himself.
As they packed away, Harry looked around the classroom and realised something had been bugging him all lesson. âWhere are the Patil twins?â Harry asked. Neither Parvati nor Padma were in lesson. When he thought about it, he hadnât seen them at the feast the night before either.
âTheir parents didnât allow them to come back,â said Hermione. They think itâs too dangerous, after all that happened last year...â
âOh,â said Harry quietly. âDidnât their parents take them out of school as soon as Dum-â Harry stumbled on the word, âHe died?â
Hermione gave him a strange look before continuing, âYes, they did. I think itâs a bit pointless to take them out of school. I mean, we have professors here who will teach us all how to defend ourselves, and all the wards have been renewed and improved, so Iâd say itâs safer here than anywhere else.â By this time, the seventh-year Gryffindors were walking down the third floor stairs towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.
âBut itâs not, is it? Death Eaters got into Hogwarts once; who says they canât do it again,â said Ron, in an unexpected moment of maturity. âI think You-Kno-â
âVoldemort,â said Harry automatically.
Ron glanced at Harry. âV-Voldemort,â he said in a rush, âis getting more and more followers, right? So heâs going to try again, isnât he?â
âBut he doesnât have anyone at Hogwarts toâŚohâŚâ said Hermione, glancing uneasily at Harry. Harry stopped short in the middle of the corridor and was totally unprepared for the something that crashed into his back and sent him sprawling. A body landed on top of him and sent the air out of his lungs with an oof!
Harry heard several people laughing, and then it suddenly got quiet, except for an extremely familiar laugh coming from the person struggling to get off him.
âTonks!â Harry heard Ron exclaim, while at the same time Hermione said, âWhat are you doing here?!â
Harry rolled over to find Tonks currently sporting her custom spiky pink hair, her hand over her mouth and blushing spectacularly.
âSorry!â she said, half-laughing, offering Harry a hand up. âI didnât see you there!â
âDonât worry about it,â he grinned, the dark mood that had threatened to come over him completely gone after Tonksâ abrupt appearance. âWhat are you doing here?â
Tonks glanced around and leaned forward to whisper, âIâm still in Hogsmeade, and I have to leave a report with McGonagall.â She winked, and with an airy wave of her hand, she disappeared around the corner.
âThat was quiteâŚabrupt,â said Ron, staring round the corner where Tonks had disappeared.
âTypical Tonks, then,â said Harry. âI donât think sheâll ever change.â
âI donât think anyone would want her to change,â said Hermione. âAt least she gives some comic relief to this world at the moment.â
âWhat is this?â said Harry, a little more sharply than he meant to. âOfficial pessimistic day?â He grinned at Hermione to show he was joking when she gave him a reproachful look. âSorry.â
The Gryffindors lined up on one side of the corridor, the Slytherins on the other, both talking amongst themselves rather than to each other.
âSeventh-years, come in, donât be shy,â said the bright voice of Asher from the doorway of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. When Harry filed into the room after Seamus, Asher gave him a discreet thumbs-up.
âMorning, Professor,â Harry murmured, a smile tugging at his lips.
âPotter,â she said, tilting her head in greeting, her eyes sparkling. She had her long, dark hair up in a twist at the back of her head, was wearing smart, back trousers and a simple shirt, along with her custom, heeled boots. All this was underneath an over-robe, as opposed to the full robe most professors and wizards chose to wear. Despite the fact that she wasnât in totally formal wear, heâd never seen her look so professional.
Once everyone had taken their seats at the front of the classroom, Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked around and realised that everyone was especially quiet and well behaved, not knowing what this new professor was going to be like, leaving the room in a tense silence.
Asher walked towards the front of the classroom, her heels tapping loudly in the silence. She perched on the edge of her desk and looked round the class with raised eyebrows.
âDonât worry, Iâm not going to bite,â she said with a grin. A quiet titter went around the room, though most of the Slytherins stayed determinedly bored-looking, as they always did in this class. Nevertheless, the ice was broken and the students all relaxed their tense postures. âIâm Asher Crellin,â she continued, âand Iâm going to be your Defence Against the Dark Arts professor this year. Now, first off, Iâve been through your grades for the past six years, and Iâve also been finding out about your past professors.â Asher shifted backwards so she was fully on her desk.
âWell,â she continued, âI have to say that was some interesting reading. Youâve had a servant of Lord Voldemort,â a gasp went around the class when she said the name, but she seemed to be expecting it and continued as if she didnât hear it. âNext an extremely dashing and famous man who turned out to be a fake and is currently in St Mungoâs long-term care unit. Then you actually had a decent teacher, who ended up quitting after word got out about a certain furry little problem he has. ThenâŚwhoâs next?â
âMoody,â called out Seamus from the back of the room. âOr who we thought was Moody.â
âAh, yes. McGonagall told me about that. He turned out to be another Death Eater in disguise, right? And then I hear you had a woman called Dolores Umbridge, some sort of messenger woman from the ministry. I take it she wasnât taken too well. In fact, several of the professors here had more than a few words to say about her, and from what Iâve heard of her she deserves it all.â Asher shook her head to clear it, and then smiled around the classroom. âSorry. Next you hadâ“â
âA murderer.â Harry burst out before he could stop himself and looked Asher straight in the eye. The rest of the class went completely silent, staring at him.
Asher faltered and slid off the table. âYes,â she said softly. âAlso known as Severus Snape.â She spat the name out with so much venom the classâ eyes all swivelled back to her. âBut we are not here to talk about that,â she continued calmly, âWe are here to learn about how to protect ourselves. So only one of your professors have actually taught you anything mildly useful, or maybe two if you count the impostor Moody. Professor Lupin taught you a lot about Dark creatures and how to defend yourselves against them, and Moody went through the Unforgivables, so that leaves meâŚerr, everything else.â
This caused the class to laugh. âRight. Seeing as we have so much to do, weâd better get started! First off, Iâd like to explain how I will teach this year. Iâll try to keep bookwork to a minimum, mostly because I know how very boring it can be. There will be the odd class in which Iâll have to explain things in detail, so there will be a few occasions where youâll have to put up with my drivel for an hour so, but most of the lessons will be set up into two halves. The first half will be an explanation and the second half a practical where you will practice what I just explained, either against each other or against me.â
Deanâs hand shot up in the air.
âYes, MrâŚ?â
âDean Thomas.â
âWould you prefer Mr Thomas or just Dean?â
âDeanâs fine, thanks.â
âOkay, Dean, you wanted to ask something?â
âYes. Weâll be fighting against you?â
âYes, you may practice against me. Or maybe one day Iâll get someone else in here for you all to fight against.â She grinned. âI promise Iâll go easy on you â“ at first. Are there any other questions? Yes, Hermione?â
âWhat will we be covering this year?â asked the bushy-haired girl, her quill poised above her parchment, ready to take notes.
âSeeing as itâs your N.E.W.T. year, most of May and June will be spent revising everything, but this term weâll start off with defensive skills.â
Lavender Brown lifted her hand. âWhat do you mean by âdefensive skillsâ?â
Asher started wandering around the room. She didnât do it in a way which demanded attention like when Snape strode purposefully round the classroom, but which brought her closer to her students. It seemed Asher didnât like sitting behind a desk and telling the good little students to get on with their work. She wanted to get in there with the students, to be with them while they learned. And Harry could tell that much after only half an hour in the classroom with her.
âDefensive skills,â she said, âare defensive and offensive spells, basic duelling skills like duelling strategy and defence against higher level Dark creatures you didnât cover with Professor Lupin; Dementors, Inferi, that sort of thing.â
Harry raised his hand suddenly. âYes, Harry?â asked Asher. No one asked how she knew his name. Everyone else in the wizarding world had heard of Harry Potter, so why shouldnât she?
âAre we learning these things because theyâve always been part of the curriculum, or because Voldemort is back and weâre finally doing something about it?â
Asher, who had been listening to him carefully as she strode back towards the front of the classroom, shook her head as she walked past Harry and muttered, âSo much like your father,â out of the corner of her mouth for only him to hear.
She leaned back on her desk again as she pondered his question. âSome of these things you wouldnât need to know if we were in a time of peace,â she started slowly, âbut all of them would be useful to know anyway. The fact that Voldemort â“ please, get used to hearing his name, as I will not use anything else â“ is back is why McGonagall specifically asked me to train you to be able to fight anything that may threaten you.
âI donât want to frighten you all, but we are at war. We have been for several years, even without knowing it at some points. You, being only a year away from leaving Hogwarts forever, need to know how to look after yourselves, because we donât know when this war is going to end. Iâm not saying you all have to beâŚsoldiers or something, but you all need to know what to do if something does happen to you.â
This stark warning brought the class to complete silence. Harry ducked his head pretending to take notes, but really only breaking eye contact with Asher. He could feel Ron and Hermioneâs eyes on him, as well as the whole classes. He wished they wouldnât stare. There had been reports in the Daily Prophet last year saying that Harry would be the one to defeat Voldemort â“ they still called him the âChosen One.â
Neville raised his hand uncertainly, which Harry was grateful for because it took attention away from him.
âYes, MrâŚ?â
âNeville Longbottom.â
Ok, Neville, whaâ“âAsher tripped over her words and her eyes widened as she looked at Neville properly. âLongbottom?â she squeaked, seemingly forgetting she was in a room full of curious teenage students.
âUm, yes,â said Neville self-consciously, dropping his eyes uncomfortably. Asher seemed to get hold of herself and carried on, obviously not wanting to draw more attention to Nevilleâs embarrassment of being singled out.
âYes, Neville, what did you want to ask?â
âWill we cover all that in one term?â he asked, looking back up at her, his cheeks still tinged red. Harry wondered if Neville had any idea why Asher would be curious about his name. Probably not, he thought. Harry also wondered if Asher had any idea what had happened to Nevilleâs parents, and hoped for Nevilleâs sake she didnât ask him.
âYes, we will. I know itâs quite a lot, but if you concentrate, we will get through it. Right,â said Asher with a clap of her hands, âshould we get started?â
ââŚand then she said weâd start duelling on Friday! Proper duelling, not that rubbish Lockheart tried to teach us, but proper skills and stuff,â said a very excited Ron to an interested Ginny during dinner.
âItâs not fair; I donât have Defence Against the Dark Arts until Wednesday!â she complained. âPass the potatoes, Harry. When are you meeting McGonagall?â she added in an undertone.
âSeven oâclock,â he replied as he passed her what she requested.
Hermione looked up from her meal. âYou should get some homework done before you go, Harry, you donât know how long youâll be.â
Ron smirked at Harry. âAnd you too, Ron,â continued Hermione. âYou donât want to get behind on your first day.â
Harry leaned closer to Ginny and murmured, âIâm sure I could think of more interesting things to do with my time.â
Ginny feigned outrage. âWhat are you suggesting, Mr Potter?â
He waggled his eyebrows and went back to his dinner, grinning as Ginny laughed and nudged his foot with hers.
When their meal was over, the four friends made their way back to Gryffindor common room, and set up their stuff to start their homework. Harry had gotten seven inches off Flitwick, and then five inches off Professor Sprout on the uses of plants in simple healing spells.
After pulling out Charms: What you need to know, Harry started looking up spells that would be useful around the home. A few minutes later, he felt someone kick his shin lightly. He looked up at Ginny, who was sitting opposite him, only to find her concentrating on her own book. He must have imagined it.
He had only just gotten back to his work when something kicked him again. Looking sharply up again, he saw that Ginnyâs head was still bowed but she was smiling slightly, and he was sure Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6 wasnât that funny. He looked back at his parchment and nudged her back lightly. He heard her snort quietly, and she kicked him back.
This went on for a few more minutes, causing Harry to completely lose his concentration. He glared playfully at her still bowed head. Seemingly feeling his gaze on her, she looked up at him and smiled impishly. She slipped her foot out of her shoe and ran her bare toes up his leg. Harry jumped from the unexpected contact, his knee colliding with the underside of the desk with a loud BANG, causing her to laugh outright.
Harry groaned as he nursed his bruised knee. âIâm in pain and all you can do is laugh?â he complained playfully. She seemingly couldnât give a coherent answer as she tried to get her giggles under control. By now they had drawn the attention of several people, including Ron, who looked at them suspiciously, and Hermione, who sniffed disapprovingly.
Harry looked at the clock across the room. It was quarter to seven. âIâd better get going,â said Harry, and started packing up his stuff. âSee you later.â He waved to his friends and went to give Ginny a peck on her cheek, which deepened when she turned her head to capture his lips instead.
âBye,â she said as he turned to go. âI guess Iâll have to amuse myself with homework nowâŚâ Harry laughed as he climbed through the portrait hall and strode quickly down the corridor towards the Headmistressâ office.
He arrived a few minutes before seven and, after he stated the password, the gargoyles jumped aside to reveal the moving staircase. He strode quickly up the steps and knocked on the heavy, wooden door still decorated with the ornate golden griffin knocker.
âCome in,â said the crisp voice of Professor McGonagall, and Harry pushed open the door cautiously.
On first glance, nothing much seemed to have changed in the office, though there werenât as many weird and wonderful objects around the room, and there was a vase of wild flowers sitting on the huge desk in front of McGonagall. The portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses still hung on the wall, their occupants sleeping soundly in their frames. Harry had to swallow the lump in his throat when he saw Dumbledoreâs portrait, which was suspended on the wall behind McGonagall.
âGood evening, Professor,â he said hurriedly, almost forgetting his manners. He could have sworn he saw the flicker of a smile on her lips, but it was gone before he could register it properly, replaced by her best âlets get down to businessâ look. He must have imagined it.
âPlease, sit down, Mr Potter; I have a lot to discuss with you tonight,â she said, motioning to one of the large, squashy armchairs in front of her. Harry sat and waited for her to begin, trying to ignore Dumbledoreâs portrait as best he could.
In her usual brisk manner, McGonagall didnât beat around the bush and said, âSince you came of age in July, you have inherited all of what was your parentsâ. Their house in Godricâs Hollow is, as you know, yours. You also inherit the Potter estate. This has allâ“â
Harry couldnât help but interrupt. âSorry, Professor, but did you just say, âPotter estateâ?â
âYes, Mr Potter, I did.â
âButâŚâ Harry trailed off and McGonagall continued.
âLily and James set up an account for you at Gringots, which you could access from the age of eleven so it could be of use when you re-joined the wizarding world, and for your school supplies, so all your money has been taken care of. The Potter estate is, unfortunately, just a piece of empty land now. The house was destroyed shortly before your parents went into hiding.â
Harry just nodded dumbly.
McGonagall continued at a brisk pace. âAll of these things were cleared during the holidays, and I am surprised you did not receive a letter from Gringots, though things have been very hectic these past months. Perhaps they thought you already knew about all this.â McGonagall took a sheet of parchment from her desk and set it in front of Harry. âYou just need to sign here and everything will be clarified. All details concerning the whereabouts and wards placed upon the Potter estate have been placed in your vault.â
âIf everything has been taken care of, why do I need to sign anything?â Harry asked, leaning forward to look at a contract of all that was now rightfully his. He almost swallowed his tongue when he saw the amount of Galleons now residing in his vault. âT-thatâs all mine?â he said, his voice cracking like it hadnât done in several years. He had never realised just how much money he owned.
âThe signing of the contract is more of a formality than anything else. Your parents had magically binding wills, which means that all they wish to pass onto you at a certain age automatically goes to you without having to have any sort of consent from you or any third party. And yes, that is all yours. The Potters are an ancient family and have always had a rather large fortune, and that along with the small fortune to received of Sirius makes you rather well off, Mr Potter.â
Harry picked up the quill McGonagall had placed in front of him and signed the contract. When he was done, she thanked him, folded the letter, and placed it in a parchment envelope. âI will send this off as soon as I can,â she said.
âThere is something else we need to discuss tonight, about Professor Dumbledore,â she continued. âSeveral weeks ago, over a month ago in fact, Albusâ will was found and read to those who were associated. Unfortunately, you were with your aunt and uncle, and we didnât think it wise to take you out of there earlier than we had planned.â Harryâs heart started hammering in his chest, though he was not sure why.
McGonagall opened one of her desk drawers and pulled out a polished wooden box, about a foot long and half as tall as it was wide, and a small brass key that seemed to fit the keyhole. She placed them on the edge of the desk and looked back up at Harry.
âThis is what he left you. I have no idea what is in there. You may want to go somewhere private to open it.â She looked carefully at Harry through her square-framed glasses, and her usually piercing gaze softened slightly. Harry looked down at his knees, took a shuddering breath, then looked back up and nodded at her to continue.
âOn another, though perhaps related note, Miss Tonks reported to me today, and on her way out she gave me these.â McGonagall reached once again into the drawers behind the desk, and Harry couldnât help but wonder how much stuff she had in there. His brow furrowed, and then his eyes widened when she pulled out a large stack of parchment. âDo you know what these are for?â asked McGonagall.
Realisation dawned on Harry, and he wondered how Tonks had done it. âYes, I do. I asked Tonks a favour a couple weeks ago and it looks like sheâs managed it!â
McGonagall stared at him, as if trying to work a puzzle out. âIf you would tell the Order what youâre doing that involves Voldemort, and what you were doing with Albus that night, we could help you.â
âI made a promise, Professor,â said Harry at once. âI told him I wouldnât tell, and so I wonât. There really isnât a lot anyone can do to help, and anyway, the less people who know, the better.â He had expected this to come up tonight.
McGonagallâs posture stayed the same, but Harry noticed that her already thin lips were getting thinner still. She shook her head and said, âAll he will tell me is that you will inform me of what I need to know when the time is right.â
Harryâs eyes snapped automatically to the painted face of Dumbledore. He was sitting in a comfortable looking chintz armchair, his aged face looking less ragged and old than it had the last time Harry had seen the real Dumbledore. He forced his eyes back to the headmistress when some of what she had said sunk in.
âHe talks to you?â he asked, a jolt going though his stomach.
âYes,â said McGonagall, more softly than he had ever heard her, âas is tradition with all these portraits, he is there to help the current head. But he isnât the he isnât the real Albus Dumbledore, Harry. It is just a shadow, a painterâs vision of what he was. You must remember that, as must we all.â
Harry nodded silently, looked down at his feet, and watched the toe of his trainer scuff along the stone floor. Silence stretched out between them, before McGonagall continued once more.
âThere is one more thing I need to discuss with you, Harry.â He looked up at her, hoping it wasnât going to be any more depressing news. âItâs about what you called Dumbledoreâs Army.â That got Harry looking straight into her face, wondering where she was going with this.
âWhat about it?â he asked.
She paused a moment, surveying him through her glasses. âI think you should consider restarting it. Please, hear me out,â she said, as Harry looked ready to interrupt. âHogwarts was broken into last year, as you well know, and it put the students in great danger. I do not mean to send them into battle as soldiers, but they need to be trained. I have requested that Professor Crellin teach the older students defence techniques that would be useful in times like these, and you did an awful lot of good by teaching those students two years ago.â
âProfessor, I donât thinkâ“â
âYou, Harry, are a great teacher. I know you are; youâre a born leader. You have so much you can share with your classmates, and they will listen to someone their own age.â
Harry looked long and hard at the women in front of him, though he didnât really see her through the swarm of thoughts flying round his brain. Neville, Dean, and Seamus had all asked him about the D.A. They seemed to want to be taught by him. Ron had approved of the idea too, as had Hermione and Ginny, but what about everyone else? Would they all want to be taught by him?
âI donât know⌠I have Quidditch to organise, and itâs the N.E.W.Ts this year, not to mention⌠besides, who would want to be taught by me?â said Harry, vocalising his thoughts.
âIt is up to you, but do keep it in mind. Perhaps over the next few weeks youâll see how many people really do want to protect themselves and their families, and are willing to get help from you.â
Harry nodded. âIâll think about it..â
âWell,â said McGonagall, standing. âI think that is all. Do you have anything to ask me about?â Harry shook his head, rose from his seat, and picked up the box from Dumbledore, stuffing the key in his pocket. He shrunk the parchment before slipping that into his robes as well. âIf you need me, you will see me in class. Goodnight, Harry.â
âThank you, Professor, goodnight,â said Harry as he turned to the doorway and walked back down the rotating staircase. It wasnât until Harry had started down the corridor that he realised just how many times she had called him Harry, rather than her usual âPotter.â
As he was walking through the empty hallways, he could hear only the sounds of his echoing footsteps and his thoughts. He started to wonder what could be in this box from Dumbledore. What could he have wanted to give him?
He needed to thank Tonks next time he saw her. He wondered how sheâd managed to get the list of all the Death Eaters, but he probably wouldnât see her for a while; maybe at the next Hogsmeade visit, or at Christmas. Heâd have to ask her.
Hermione would be happy that they had this list. It would give her something positive to do, rather than drone through book after book on Dark artefacts and Dark magic, only to come up with naught. Maybe they could get one step closer to the illusive R.A.B.
His thoughts somehow changed to Ginny. What was he going to do when they were reading though information that had nothing do with N.E.W.Ts, or when they had to disappear for long periods of time as they searched out the Horcruxes? He could just tell her nothing, say that he couldnât tell her, but he honestly didnât think she would stand for that much longer.
It was then that he knew what he had to do. He would tell her everything: about him, about Voldemort, about Horcruxes⌠But how?
Author's Notes: Thank you for reading! If you are feeling kind, or have any questions, leave a review! Also, go check out this story's one shot/spin off "How Long.
Lisa xxx