Order of the Phoenix
We're Back!
By Ruskbyte
Chapter Five
~ We're Back! ~
It was the first proper day of school, September second, and Ginny had just seated herself for breakfast at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Across from her sat Ron and Hermione, having an
argument as usual, although Ginny couldn't work out what exactly they were fighting about. Harry was sitting across from them, which meant he was also sitting next to her, causing Ginny to be extra
careful with regards the butter dish.
"They've been at it half an hour already," he whispered, leaning close to her.
Ginny tried not to blush at his closeness and softly replied, "Perhaps you should tell them to get a room, like you wanted to."
Harry shook his head and grinned. "I'm waiting for more people to arrive."
Their first night back had seen the Gryffindor common room a hive of activity as Harry fielded a barrage of questions from the first-years and one or two older students, always with a look of long suffering patience and resignation on his face. It seemed that Harry was of even greater interest now that he was a Prefect. The rest of the house had been engaged in talks about this new subject that was being offered.
Even Professor Lupin, who stopped by to exchange greetings with Harry, Ron and Hermione, could tell them nothing about it. Apparently the news was as much of a surprise to the teachers as it had been to the students. Dumbledore had refused to tell them anything other than that he thought they would find the first night's demonstration, "Interesting."
"Oi, 'Arry," mumbled Ron around a mouthful of sausage, "wah'junk d'you think ol' Trelawney will be predicting this year for ya?"
"Honestly, you two," muttered Hermione, her well-known dislike of Divination and Trelawney very evident in her posture.
Harry took a bite from the toast he was holding and shrugged, "I dunno, and I really don't give a royal damn. 'Specially after I dropped the subject."
"You're dropping Divination!?" exclaimed Ron, his eyes almost popping out of his head as he gaped across at his friend, "Wha- how- whe- who- why?"
For a moment Harry's eyes were hooded in shadow before he smiled thinly, "Circumstances."
You did not have to take Divination, which Ginny fortunately did not, to be able to work out the meaning in Harry's reply. After all, with Voldemort's return last year, wasting time with a pointless subject like Divination was no longer an option, or luxury, that Harry could afford.
"So what will you be doing instead?" asked Hermione excitedly, almost bouncing in her seat.
"Practicing." This time Harry's smile was filled with humour and mystery.
Ginny considered, Practicing what? Defence Against the Dark Arts? No, he would've just said so. Must be something else, but what? Quidditch? She shook her head. Don't be ridiculous.
At this point a couple of sixth-years came hurrying past, handing out their class timetables. Harry took his and tucked it in a pocket, not even bothering to look it over. Ron, Hermione and Ginny, however, began reading.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," groaned Ron, dropping his head on the table with a thud.
"What?"
"Potions. First lesson of the day," he mumbled.
Even Hermione looked depressed to hear this, although Ginny noticed that all Harry did was smirk knowingly and continue munching on his bagel. Decidedly odd, considering how much Snape despised him and tormented him during class. She read her own timetable and smiled across at her brother in sympathy. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm right after you."
Ron groaned again, head still on the tabletop. "What a spiffing way to start off the year."
I dunno, she thought, Harry seems to be enjoying himself.
***
Snape strode meaningfully into his classroom, black robes billowing behind him. Not even waiting to see if all the students had arrived he began speaking. "You were given three essays to write over the summer. I expect them to placed on my desk at the end of this period, though I doubt I will find many that are worthy of my attention."
He looked meaningfully at Harry as he said this, the implied slur seeming to have no effect at all on the Gryffindor boy who was almost lounging behind his workbench, alongside his constant companion, and fellow troublemaker, Ron. In fact, much to Snape's surprise, it was Ron that was affronted by the Potion Master's remark, while Harry merely looked exceedingly bored.
Something is different about that boy, observed Snape.
It wasn't the remarkable physical change that had somehow turned Harry from a diminutive little boy into a fair sized and well toned young man. No, it was something else. His posture spoke of great amounts of self-confidence and every languid movement was smooth and fluid. The greatest change, however, was Harry's face. It was implacable, as if he had seen everything there was to see and nothing could surprise him any longer. Or frighten him.
Probably true, he mused but decided, time to put him in his place before his head swells any more than it already has.
"There are five potions that can be used to counteract the effects of Sphinx venom. Only four are still brewed in modern times," he snapped, striding down the centre aisle of the room, "One you are to learn next year, but the other three are mentioned in this year's textbook."
Snape reached where Harry and Ron were sitting and gave them an evil smirk, he knew there was no possible way either of them could know what he planned to ask of them. "Mr Potter," he said, "choose one and explain how to brew it."
Harry looked up at him and blinked owlishly, not even bothering to straighten up in his seat as he smiled and began speaking.
"Fill a cauldron with 450ml of water, start to boil. When the water is just beginning to bubble, set it down to a simmer. Add 15g of finely chopped Executioner's Hood, followed by 10g of Oak and 20g of Redwood sawdust, mixed evenly. Stir counter-clockwise for five minutes, then let it sit for thirty three minutes."
He paused to glance around the class, smiling impishly at Malfoy before returning his gaze to Snape, who was frowning in deep thought.
I know this potion from somewhere, but it couldn't be...
"Now add 13g of a Dragon Heartstring that has been lightly dusted with Powdered Daemon Bone. Pour in 50ml of chilled Vampire Blood, which must be between 5 and 10 degrees Celsius. Stir the mixture clockwise for three minutes and then counter-clockwise for a further three, making sure to use a silver ladle. Allow the potion to sit for between eight to ten minutes, until it achieves a violet colour and a viscosity approximately five times that of water," he droned in a bored monotone, as though this took no thought at all.
"Now introduce 4g of Volcanic Ash which must be added whilst stirring the potion clockwise with a blue tipped Pegasus Feather. Allow the potion to rest for one hour and six minutes, at which point it will turn liquid bronze in appearance. The maximum safe dosage for an adult human is a hundred and four millilitres and is best taken on a full stomach. The potion can stand for eight months before becoming unusable, which will be indicated by it turning black in colour."
After he finished his recitation Harry leaned forward and casually propped himself up on the counter with an elbow, looking languidly up at Snape.
"Anything else?"
Snape looked at Harry with his eyes as round and wide as dinner plates. He seemed to snap out of it after a minute or so, striding to one of the dungeon's bookshelves. He ran a hurried hand over several spines before pulling an ancient looking tome free, ignoring the four or five books that toppled from the shelf in his hurry.
Impossible, he was thinking.
Turning around he slammed the massive tome down on the nearest workbench, almost crushing Pansy Parkinson's hand. He quickly flipped to the middle of the book and began paging through it in obvious agitation before settling on one page which he ran a bony finger down as he murmured the words to himself. Finally he looked up to stare across the room at Harry, an expression of complete and utter disbelief on his sallow face.
"How in Salazar Slytherin's name do you know about this potion, Potter?" he asked, his voice a hollow echo, devoid of its usual biting sharpness.
Harry shrugged and made a vague motion with one hand, "Read about it somewhere."
Snape stared at Harry for a long moment before rounding the desk and slowly making his way towards the waiting student, aware that the rest of the class were watching them both closely. "Nobody, to my knowledge," he stated, "has even so much as attempted to brew this since before Hogwarts was founded."
Standing before Harry once again he frowned down at the boy in complete incomprehension as to how a mere fifth-year, and a Gryffindor at that, could know this, Snape motioned at the book on the work table. "And that tome there is one of the only four written copies known to exist."
Harry looked around him at the class, all of whom were gaping at him in a way disconcertingly similar to Snape. He shrugged apologetically, "I had a productive summer."
***
"Dementors."
Remus Lupin smiled as he looked over his class of fifth year Gyffindors, all of whom sat in their seats, watching him with rapt gazes, particularly Harry.
"I see I got your attention," he observed.
Lupin paced about his classroom, hands behind his back, as he gave the students a brief lecture and overview of Dementors, their murky origins and, worse yet, their capabilities. After a few short minutes he had almost finished what he had to say.
"...which leads us to the only known charm that can drive off or, if cast by a sufficiently strong wizard, destroy a Dementor. It is called the Patronus Charm."
Standing behind his desk, Lupin glanced over at Harry. The boy had grown a good deal since Remus had seen him last, at the end of Harry's third year. He was now nearly as tall as his father had been and with the same slender, yet muscular, physique. Lupin had been very much surprised at the feast the previous night. When he had finally spotted Harry in the crowd of students at the Gryffindor table he had rubbed his eyes and double checked to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.
It was truly a remarkable transformation from boy to man, Lupin had thought, leading him to wonder what Sirius would make of it when next he managed to see Harry. From what Lupin had been told, the last time Sirius had seen the boy, Harry had been in a terrible state. It was good to see that he had managed to shrug it off, but now it was time to continue with the lesson.
I know he hates having the limelight, but maybe...
Lupin turned to look at Harry. "Harry, if you would?"
"Professor?"
"I know you can produce a spectacular Patronus," explained Lupin, "I was hoping that you could demonstrate for the class."
Harry nodded and rose from his seat, moving to the front of the class. Holding his wand loosely in his hand, he looked at Lupin and asked, "Any target?"
Lupin smiled and shook his head, waving a hand vaguely as he did so. "The far wall will be fine, Harry. Without a Dementor to attack, the Patronus will merely wander about for a minute or so."
Harry nodded once again and aimed his wand in roughly the general direction of the far side of the classroom, still holding it loosely. He appeared so casual in his approach Lupin momentarily wondered if Harry was concentrating hard enough to actually form a Patronus.
"Expecto Patronum!" the boy snapped, his eyes suddenly burning bright and his body shifting into a well-balanced stance, ready for combat.
Nobody in the classroom could have been more surprised by what happened next than Lupin, except perhaps Ron and Hermione, both of whom had also witnessed Harry's Patronus on the odd occasion. They knew that the principle characteristic of a Patronus charm was that the animal, or object, produced was a gleaming, brilliant silver in colour. What emerged from Harry's wand was neither silver, nor was it the solitary stag they had come to expect.
There was an ethereal stag, true, but it clearly had company.
The magnificent animal burst from Harry's wand directly before him, landing on the classroom floor in absolute silence. To its immediate right was a large, silently snarling and snapping wolf which began to prowl about. It was a good deal larger than most wolves because, as three of those present knew, it was not really a wolf. It was a werewolf. To the stag's left was another large and unique creature. It was a giant dog, almost equalling the werewolf in size, which had also begun to stalk the classroom, its massive head scanning left and right as it moved.
The most startling thing about this was not that Harry had produced three Patroni instead of just one, an unprecedented feat in of itself, but the fact that the three guardians were not silver in appearance.
They were gold.
It was a deep and rich gold that gleamed and shone with the brightness of the sun, bathing the classroom in a warm yellow glow. All three Patroni were shimmering and glowing like molten ore fresh from the furnace and only just poured into the appropriate casts.
Amidst the gasps of awe and amazement, not to mention his own shock, Lupin was vaguely aware of hearing a soft whisper coming from Hermione, just behind him.
"Moony, Padfoot and Prongs."
His own thoughts were running on similar lines, but it wasn't until he heard the girl speak the old nicknames, did Lupin finally comprehend what he was seeing.
Sweet Merlin, he thought, it is the three of us. We're Harry's Patronus.
A moment later, as the three Patroni continued to shift and patrol restless about the room a grin of mixed mischief and delight crossed his normally tired face, Wait until Sirius hears about this.
A moment after that another thought occurred to him, Bugger Sirius, wait until Albus hears!
***
"Seamus was able to get a few sparks and Hermione managed a little mist," enthused Neville that evening at dinner, "but nothing like Harry's!"
"It takes some practice," downplayed Harry, not enjoying the attention being piled upon him by the other Gryffindors. Almost everyone had heard about his rather spectacular Patronus during DADA, including the other houses. "It took me almost a half year before I got it right."
Dean Thomas shook his head, "More than 'right' I'd say."
Ron nodded his agreement. "Yeah. Have you been practicing without telling us?"
"When have I had the time?" asked Harry, wishing Professor Lupin had not called him up before his classmates. If anything, he did not need more attention coming his way.
I'll be getting more than enough as it is after tonight, he thought darkly.
*Then you shouldn't have made that proposition to Dumbledore,* chided an amused voice.
Harry sighed, Tell me about it.
"Enough about Harry's Patronus," interrupted Ginny, seeming to understand his discomfort. "We've got the new class in fifteen minutes. We should get going."
"Yeah," agreed Fred, rising from his seat. "Can't wait to see what it's all about."
"Or who the teacher is," admitted George, also standing up.
Harry rose from his seat, throwing Ginny a grateful look for changing the subject, causing her to blush and duck her head down. It was good to have the attention diverted away from him, if only for a few minutes. Ron, Hermione and the other students crowded around him got up as well and the group made their way out the Great Hall.
"With our luck," voiced Ron, "it's probably Snape."
"Could be worse," declared Seamus, "could be Lockhart."
Beside them, Lavender and Parvati giggled. "That would be nice," said Lavender. "At least he was good looking and didn't give us too much difficult homework."
All the guys, including Ginny and Hermione, rolled their eyes or shook their heads.
Some things never change, observed Harry, no matter how much they should.
*That's women for you.*
*Hey! Watch your mouth, Loki!*
*Oops.*
As the Gryffindors passed the staff table, Harry spotted Dumbledore waiting by the entrance to the anteroom that he and the other Triwizard champions had been led into the previous year. With a nod he indicated for him to come over. Harry nodded his understanding.
"I'll see you all in a few minutes," he said to his friends as he stopped walking. "I need to speak to Dumbledore first."
"D'you want us to come with you?" asked Hermione, immediately concerned.
Harry shook his head. "Don't bother yourselves. I only want to ask him a question or two about the class before it starts. You three go on ahead."
"We'll save you a seat," promised Ginny as the trio moved to follow the rest of the student.
"Nervous, Harry?" Dumbledore asked as Harry approached him, blue eyes sparkling.
"A little," Harry admitted, licking his lips.
The old wizard smiled. "If you think it will help, try picturing everyone sitting in front of you wearing nothing but their underwear. You'd be surprised how well it works."
Harry's mind immediately strayed to Ginny, and the thought of her being in the same room as him wearing nothing but her...
"Bad idea," he stated, snapping back to the present, praying that he wasn't blushing and knowing that he was failing miserably. At least Dumbledore hadn't suggested he picture the audience with no clothes on... He felt himself flush an even brighter red.
Dumbledore said nothing, but his paternal smile said everything. After a few minutes, once the Great Hall was empty, he and Harry made their way to the third floor. There, in the room that had once been home to a giant three-headed dog, they descended a large spiral staircase. This, Harry thought, was a great improvement on the trapdoor than had originally been there. When they reached the bottom of the stairs Dumbledore led Harry through a set of large wooden doors, entering the newly constructed classroom.
It was designed along the lines of a large amphitheatre, easily capable of seating the entire student population of Hogwarts. The benches and seats behind them radiated outwards from a large sunken platform that was about a hundred and twenty feet across, with a small raised podium in the centre.
Followed Dumbledore down the steps of the centre aisle to the stage, Harry spotted Ron, Hermione and Ginny, along with the rest of the Gryffindor crowd, sitting towards the front. He smiled as he saw the empty seat between Ginny and Hermione that had been saved for him. Reaching the stage he gave his friends an apologetic shrug as he moved to stand behind the headmaster, who stood at the podium in order to address those assembled.
"Good evening all," Dumbledore began, smiling benevolently at the assembled students and many scattered teachers. "I trust you had a fulfilling dinner? Very good."
Harry shifted from one foot to the other, having never felt so nervous in his life, not even the morning of the first task, when he had found himself going up against a full-grown dragon.
I'm doomed.
*With us helping you? Probably.*
"You should all be aware that last year, during the conclusion of the Triwizard tournament, Lord Voldemort…" Dumbledore continued speaking, ignoring the flinches and gasps that issued at the mention of the dark lord's name. "…was successful in resurrecting for himself a physical body and regaining his powers. Because of this event and the tragic circumstances that surround it, I and a colleague of mine, have decided to give the students here at Hogwarts specialized training that will, hopefully, prove useful to you in the days of darkness that lie ahead of us."
*A trifle melodramatic, isn't he?*
He's Dumbledore, Isis, replied Harry. He's always been like this.
*Is he mad?*
Who isn't?
"This training, I have been told, will be rigorous and demanding to a degree that will no doubt dishearten a great many of you. I must therefore stress to you that despite the hardship, it is imperative that you display the utmost commitment to achieving the goals set before you by your instructor," said Dumbledore, his eyes scanning the students seated around the room.
I've survived a duel with Voldemort, Harry told himself, how hard can this be?
*You really want to know?*
"And now, it is with great pleasure," concluded the headmaster, "that I present you with the newest addition to Hogwarts' teaching staff. The young man, who conceived, designed and will soon be instructing you in this course concerning the art of magical combat."
Finished, Dumbledore nodded his head and gave a short bow before stepping around the podium and making his way to the elevated seat that had been set aside for him at the very front and centre of the auditorium. Harry's swallowed nervously and surreptitiously rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms against his robes. It was his turn now.
Well, he took a deep breath, here we go.
*This is going to be fun.*
Oh, be quiet.
Taking another deep breath Harry stepped forward and took his place behind the podium Dumbledore had just vacated. Ignoring the tumultuous squirming of his stomach, he stared up at the roomful of students and teachers, each and every one of them focused solely on him standing there.
"Good evening," he greeted them. "Welcome to Practical Fighting Techniques."
TBC...