Chapter Nineteen
Ron and Harry made their way to Transfiguration. Hermione wasn’t there. They shrugged. Harry wasn’t surprised. As a Healer, what would she need to transfigure?
Professor McGonagall swept into the room, her shoes clicking a quick rhythm up to her desk at the front. “Welcome to N.E.W.T. level Transfiguration. As all of you have at least narrowed down your career paths, I expect great effort in this class. It is imperative to your futures. Many of you have likely noticed that you have fewer classes. Three a day, to be exact. Let me assure you that your free time is not reserved for horseplay. You will need that time for your studies and other commitments: academic and athletic.”
Many students were smirking at one another. Their collective thought was “Nope. Horseplay it is.” To Harry’s great dismay, Malfoy could be seen across the room. He scowled at Ron and Harry while Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.
At a higher pitch, she continued. “Should you have any doubts as to your ability to pay attention, and take this class seriously,” she looked down her nose at a few students, including Ron and Harry, “I suggest you leave now. I’ll not have riff-raff during such an important year!”
Harry was trying to hide a smile. “Hey Riff,” he whispered under his breath.
Ron snorted. “Hey Raff. Want to do some horseplay?”
Luckily, the professor didn’t hear them, although the room had fallen deafeningly silent. No one moved. No one breathed. This seemed to suit her just fine. “Today, we will begin learning some very difficult magic. To begin with, we will practice on these potted plants. Morphindelia are very fragile and difficult to come by. They are protected by the Ministry of Magic. They cannot be touched by hands, else they will die. Understand the importance of them. They can help soothe someone dying in great pain. Some of you may very well have a need of it someday- particularly if you happen to kill one today. Two students will work on a plant at a time. We shall turn them into an object that one is unlikely to touch. Any guesses?”
The class only stared at her. Now that she had threatened their lives if they killed a plant, no one wanted to risk speaking in its presence.
“Oh, for Merlin's sake! Just to remind those of you who may have forgotten. You can only use your powers to their greatest ability when you relax and focus. I daresay some of you need more discipline in that. We shall be transfiguring the Morphindelia into a painting. Any questions?”
A hundred hands went into the air with a thousand questions. “Exactly how do we do this?”
“Consider this a laboratory class, Ms. Jones. You already know the basics of Transfiguration. It is high time you used those skills to do things on your own. As you practice this method, your talents will grow.” This earned a groan from the class. Her mouth pinched into a thin line. “Any of you are welcome to leave. Those who wish to continue on their chosen career paths, get to it.”
Ron turned to Harry and grinned. “Let’s make a lovely painting of a white ferret, mid-air!”
It had turned out to be easy to turn the plants into a framed piece of canvas, but the art portion needed work. It wouldn’t be believable unless they could turn it into at least a mockery of a true painting. Their ferret looked like a five-year-old’s imitation of a cloud. Not to mention there were leaves sticking out of the background. They discovered that in their desire to be creative, they wasted much time. Nearly every other group had created the Mona Lisa, Scream, and other such works that were emblazoned into their brains.
Close to the end of class, a valid question was raised. “Professor? If we are transfiguring this plant to keep it from being touched, does that mean there may be paintings in the castle that are transfigurations? I mean, there must be thousands-“
“I do not pretend to know all of the secrets of this castle, Mr. McMillan, nor of its many objects.”
Ron whispered, “Does it seem to you she knows more than she lets on?”
“No,” he said seriously. “I know she does.”
At the end of class, as the students straightened their places and moved on to other classes, Professor McGonagall called, “Mr. Potter, please stay back. I would have a word with you.”
It sounded like dire news. Had she heard them talking through the class? Harry caught Malfoy dallying with packing his belongings. He wore his characteristic smirk. This one meant “Ha ha, you got in trouble.”
Harry made a rude gesture at him where no one else but those two could see. “Mr. Malfoy!” she barked, “Surely you have better things to do than dawdle around here for scraps of gossip.”
The students that remained in the classroom were aghast. They scurried out of the room, convinced that they would not be the ones on the bottom end of her metaphorical fly swatter. Malfoy, with an offended swish of his robes, stormed out of the classroom, mumbling something about notifying the proper people of her behavior. Ron blurted out a goodbye, and was about to rush off when she said, “Mr. Weasley. You as well.”
Convinced they were in a load of trouble, they mournfully moved to the front of her desk. “Well, I think I will be direct, for the sake of time,” she said, watching them shift their feet uncomfortably. “I believe you both are well-suited for the position of captain for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The dilemma is this: Of the two of you, Harry has been a member of the team the longest,” Ron looked crestfallen. “But, Mr. Weasley, you have great tactical and strategic ability. I want a smooth transition should Harry have other commitments as well. What I am proposing is that you two be co-captains. Does that please the both of you?”
“Well, Yes but . . .” Harry began.
“Yes?”
“Katie Bell has been on the team the longest.”
“Ms. Bell has already expressed her disinterest in the position, Mr. Potter. Are we settled then?”
“Yes,” they both beamed.
“All right,” she was back to her businesslike tone, “off to your next classes,” she snapped a little harsher than was necessary. Harry thought she wanted to avoid having a moment.
They waved goodbye to each other as Ron went out to Hagrid’s hut for Care of Magical Creatures. Harry headed down to the dismal dungeons for Potions. He was relieved he hadn’t been made sole captain. He knew it was Ron’s dream, and didn’t want to deal with the ensuing jealousy if Harry got all the glory. Visualizing the first team practice put Harry in even higher spirits, which Snape attempted to snuff upon entrance into his dank classroom.
“Potter. Wipe that mentally deficient smile off your face. No need to make your poor abilities plain to all.”
Harry scowled at the snickering students. Of course, his archenemy, Malfoy, was there to share the joy that was making fun of Harry. Naturally, nearly half the class was composed of only Slytherins. To his relief, Hermione rushed in breathlessly and sat in the empty seat next to him. “Ms. Granger. See if you can manage to respect class time. Forty points.”
Her hand trembled at the injustice, but she said nothing. She knew better than to antagonize her greasy-haired professor any more than was strictly necessary.
"As many of you know, this is a N.E.W.T. level Potions class. Some of you barely made it here,” his lip curled when his flashing eyes rested on Harry. “So, in order to stay, you’ll need to have half a brain. If you cannot manage that, I will ask you to leave. As overage wizards, we cannot stop you from leaving. In some cases, I may encourage it,” he paused. “That said, your task today is to begin preparation of your Polyjuice Potion ingredients. This potion will take a month to complete, to take precautions now. Instructions,” he waved his wand, “are on the board.”
Eyes widened with shock. All eyes except Hermione’s and Harry’s, that is. He shot her a sly grin. “Think we can manage it?” he whispered.
“Twenty points, Potter!” Snape snapped. He had, like a Bengal tiger, been waiting to pounce on Harry with the slightest flaw in his behavior. As he and Hermione had already lost sixty points for their house, he decided to keep quiet this once.
He was quite glad when he exited the Dungeons some time later with Hermione. A ray of sunlight warmed his face as he passed by an open window. It was an excruciatingly beautiful day. “Ah, athletic commitments, I love them!”
“The extra time is meant for STUDYING, Harry!” she scorned.
“It’s the first day! Besides, when else are the two co-captains going to formulate plans?” He patiently waited for it to sink in. Fortunately, it didn’t take long. She looked at him with an eager question written all over her face. He nodded and she squealed.
“I’ve got to see him before the next class!” she said, and began to scamper off to congratulate him.
“Hermione?” she paused and turned. “He’s in Charms with us. Let’s wait?”
“Oh? Ok. I’m so excited for you both! I had hoped Professor McGonagall wouldn’t uphold the ban. Although I can’t say I wasn’t worried. But how could she? Anyway, Oh! I’m so excited!” She would have chattered on incessantly, but Harry stopped her.
“Um, Hermione?”
“Yes?”
“What was wrong with Ginny?”
She sighed, at once serious. “Well, part of it I know, and part of it she refused to tell me. Besides, I’m not sure it’s my place to-“
“Ron said she was jealous,” he divulged.
She looked startled. “He did, did he?” Harry was feeling anxious. He didn’t want to wait for her to go through all of her thought paths before she returned to him. He shot a cross look at her. “Well, I suppose if Ron said that. Harry, Ginny fancies you. She doesn’t like how you’ve begun kissing Luna.” Hermione deliberated, then began again. “Then, of course, Dean is making her feel horrid about dumping him- even though he was the one flirting- and for taking that nap near you on the train.”
“How’d he know about that?”
“Everyone knows, Harry. But she’s all torn up about that.”
Harry was becoming incensed. “Why’s he doing that to her? She just did a simple thing. Why does he have to go and make a big deal out of her acting like a friend?”
Hermione shrugged.
“So, is that all?” he said sarcastically.
“Actually, no. It’s not.” She glanced at Harry out of the corner of her eye. "There’s more, but the only thing she would tell me, is-“
“What?”
“Hey, Hermione!” shouted Ron from down the hallway.
“It can wait-“
“No, tell me fast.” He knew he was pushing it, but he hated not knowing what was going on, especially with someone who had become more of a friend to him than just someone he knew. He couldn’t drop the conversation just because Ron was coming.
“She’s been seeing things-“ she hissed quickly.
“Seeing what?” he was visibly worried.
“Hey! Hermione, guess who’d co-captain?”
“Auras.”
Ron only slightly sensed the tense atmosphere, but chose to ignore it in favor of his big news. He crinkled his nose. “Auras? What’s that?”
Hermione came up with a lie as quickly as possible. “No, I said Allora is. I was saying how pretty she is. Congratulations!" she said, and gave him a kiss.
“Thanks! Allora? Uh, ok. I guess she’s all right,” he said, racking his brain for a memory of someone named Allora.
“We’d better get inside,” she said hurriedly, and pulled them in the classroom by their sleeves.
Professor Flitwick, tiny as ever, seemed to be in cheerful spirits, considering his dire message. “Not only do you have N.E.W.T.s coming up, but the second war. So, today we will begin learning more advanced shielding charms,” he smiled.
After class, Ron and Harry were practically vibrating with energy. Ron, ever the polite boyfriend, asked, “Do you want to watch us practice, Hermione?”
She was glowing, although for reasons all her own. “Are you joking? I wouldn’t miss Arithmancy if I was vomiting congealed blood!”
The boys were taken aback by her grotesque reference, but put it to rest. “Not even for me?” Ron asked, batting his eyelashes in a ludicrous imitation of a little girl.
“No,” she rolled her eyes and bounded off to her class while the boys went to their room to grab their brooms.
“Did she ever find out what was going on with Gin?”
Harry certainly didn’t want to talk to Ron about how Ginny was feeling romantic towards these days. “Er, yeah. She was just upset about Dean.”
Ron stayed silent for a moment, then said, “Who’d let that sorry old sap bother them?”
“She would,” Harry found the familiar burning sensation in his stomach. “He’s been saying awful things to her.”
“What!”
“Yeah, I know-“
“Well, I’ll teach him a lesson! My sister! Like I’d let him get away with that!” Ron’s hands were balled up. Harry could see the whites of his knuckles.
“Yeah!” Harry was glad to distract Ron from what Ginny was really bothered about, but somehow, he managed to distract himself as well. A welcome relief from the confusion that wracked his brain.
The next two hours were spent down at the Quidditch Pitch. They practiced Ron’s keeping skills, but soon found they hadn’t suffered from the lack of practice. So instead, they took a rest in the cool grass and formulated some strategies for the first game against Slytherin.
“Wait,” said Ron, “we have to hold tryouts first.”
“Ok, well, Ginny wanted to chase-“
“And we already know she’s good-“
“Yes, so let’s put her down for that. We have good Beaters. Nothing on Fred and George, of course-“
“They’ve moved on to greater things-“ he said in mock solemnity.
“That's true. We still have Katie, so all we need is another Chaser.”
“Yep. When should we hold tryouts?”
“This Saturday should be good. Then we’ll have all day.”
“Maybe Hermione won’t shout at us about not doing homework. It’s a free day, and we can do it on Sunday . . .”
Harry laughed. At least Ron had learned to anticipate Hermione’s weekly homework rant. “Soooo . . .” he grinned slyly, "You two sleeping together now?”
Ron was stunned. He obviously though he’d gotten away with it without any teasing. “Don’t start . . .”
“Who’s starting anything? Anyway, you two were the ones snogging at the party- Hey!”
Ron had punched him hard on the arm. “That was for starting.” He tore some grass out of the ground and threw it into the air. “Anyway, I just want to keep that stuff between her and me, ok?”
“So long as you close your curtains from now on,” he conceded.
He chuckled. “Deal.”
Harry picked a thick blade of grass, and wet his thumb. While he half-focused on assembling the whistle, he grinned and said, “Can I talk about what she looks like when she wakes up?”
Ron’s curiosity was piqued. “Pssh, yeah!”
They spent ten minutes straight holding their sides and laughing until out of breath. As it turned out, Harry was quite good at impressions. They quickly wrote up a signup sheet for tryouts the next weekend, then spent a carefree half hour flying aimlessly through the air. For Harry, it was freeing. He was able to throw his cares away when he was so high. It helped to put all of his daily dramas in perspective.
Today was different. He couldn’t pull his thoughts away from Luna and Ginny. He wondered if auras shone through invisibility cloaks. If they did, then maybe Ginny saw him. What did she see? Did she know it was him? Was that why she was crying? No, that’s stupid. Ginny lived through being possessed by Voldemort. She wouldn’t cry just because she saw something strange.
Jealousy. Harry could hardly believe it. He’d noticed some of the more feminine changes in Ginny, yes. He’d noticed how much her powers had grown. He had come to have a kind of respect for her. He’d thought she could do better before; was he better? Was he jealous when he’d thought that? Did he like Ginny back?
His mind pulled out of his inner thoughts and focused back on reality. He looked over at his best friend. Ron appeared to be thinking as well. Likely about whatever happened last night.
He looked below and saw a tiny figure jogging onto the pitch. It was Hermione. She waved at them, and motioned for them to land.
“All right, Hermione?”
“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “We’ve got to make plans for the D.A. I’ve been accosted all day for information, and then, when I finished classes, a common room full of Gryffindors interested in joining demanded to know about our next meeting.” It sounded like she was complaining, but the same excitement that S.P.E.W. elicited was evident.
Ron groaned. “Can’t it wait?”
“What?” she snapped.
“Ron’s right. We have our Quidditch tryout to be bothered with, and it’s only the first week. Can’t we have a bit before we worry about all that?"
“People have lost family, Harry. You’ll probably find quite a few people who are eager to learn how to defend themselves. And they want to learn as soon as possible.” She looked awkward for a moment. "Don't you wish you were better prepared . . . before?"
"Sirius was different!" he shouted. It took no time at all for his rage to scream to the surface.
"I know! But maybe those people don't want to lose anybody else! You're the best one at this in the entire school, and you're the only one they trust! You have to do something! We can't just leave them to hang, high and dry, until it fits into your schedule!" She took a breath, trying to calm herself. "Please, Harry. It's important to me. It's important to everyone."
Her eyes were misty. Harry knew she and Ron missed Sirius quite a bit as well. He thought about the newly orphaned students walking through the halls at that very moment. He thought about the parents he could have had if Voldemort didn't exist. His heart softened for his friend.
“Give me a few days to get my bearings. By Friday, I’ll have figured out a meeting time, and everything else they want to know. Ok?”
She sighed and gave in. “All right. I suppose I could make more fake galleons and hand those out to new recruits.”
Ron spoke up. “Why would we need them? Umbridge isn’t here, and our meetings don’t have to be secret anymore.”
“It’s the quickest method of communication. Well, that gives me something to do tonight," she said, and turned to stroll with her best friends up to the castle. After they entered the front doors, she expressed thoughts newly pressing on her mind.
"Can you believe I didn’t get even a foot of essay in any of my classes? I mean, really! How do they expect me to prepare for my N.E.W.T.s?” She threw her hands up into the air while Harry and Ron smiled wryly at her. "Oh, shut it," she said.
In some way, the fact that Hermione never changed both comforted and annoyed Harry. At least she was always there with a kick in the bum when he needed it. "Yup. Probably more annoying than comforting," he smiled.