Disclaimer: I own nothing; it all belongs to J.K.Rowling. I’m just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Fifteen

Defense Against the Dark Arts

The next morning arrived all too quickly, with the usual rush of students preparing for their first class. Harry rolled out of bed and tried to work the kinks out of his neck. His mind strayed back to the previous evening; it had been very strange. He and Ginny had listened in shock to Ron as he ranted about Hermione. He complained that she was altering all their future plans without so much as asking if he had an opinion. He felt that if they were going to build a life together, shouldn’t that mean that they both got some input on their future? He was tired of her superior attitude. She automatically assumed that he should just go along with whatever it was she decided, and he’d had enough. He was livid and jumped down Ginny’s throat when she tried to reason with him, accusing her of taking Hermione’s side. Ginny – who never took getting shouted at well – finally stormed off, yelling that he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life.

Harry stayed with Ron, who proceeded to communicate in a series of grunts and monosyllables until dinner rolled around. He knew from vast experience that Ron and Hermione’s points of view on whatever it was they were arguing over were usually vastly different from each other. He also knew that the truth usually lay somewhere in between. He did his best to stay out of the middle, hoping they’d work it out. It had never occurred to him that Ron and Hermione wouldn’t always be together. They seemed so natural; he’d never given the idea that they could break up a second thought.

The possibility of them going their own separate ways troubled him greatly – both because he thought neither was at their best without the other, but also because of what it would mean to their friendship. Were Ron and Hermione capable of putting a failed relationship behind them and still remain friends? Harry wasn’t too confident of that idea. Neither was very good at backing down. Would he have to see only one at a time? Would he and Ginny end up going on double dates with Ron and his dates, and Hermione and hers? It would be very strange. Obviously, Harry had a strong connection to the entire Weasley family, not only through Ron, but Ginny, as well. He hoped that wouldn’t make Hermione feel left out. He was well-acquainted with that isolated, left-out sort of feeling and wouldn’t wish it on her for anything in the world.

Dinner was tense and uncomfortable. Hermione and Ginny came down for dinner, but sat separately from he and Ron. Hermione looked as if she’d been crying, but she held her head high. Although refusing to speak to Ron, she nodded to Harry with a weary smile. Ginny kept casting Harry troubled glances, but Ron didn’t even comment on Hermione’s presence. Harry knew he’d noticed, however. His body language gave him away the instant she’d entered the hall. His shoulders stiffened, and his ears turned red. He piled the food on his plate and attacked it as if it needed to be punished.

Harry made several half-hearted attempts to talk about it with Ron, but Ron would quickly change the subject to Quidditch, and Harry finally let it go. Ron would talk when he was ready. Besides, Harry wasn’t all that keen to get into an emotional discussion, anyway. Ron devoured an enormous dinner, even for his standards. Apparently, his reaction to being upset was the polar opposite to Harry’s.

Harry spent the evening playing chess with Ron, and he nearly won a game, because Ron wasn’t paying much attention. Ron decided to head to bed early, and Harry found himself alone in the common room. He played a game of Exploding Snap with Neville, filling him in on what was going on with Ron and Hermione, before Ginny came downstairs, already dressed for bed. She held a phial of the Dreamless Sleep Potion that Professor McGonagall had given her in her hand and nodded her head slightly towards the stairs.

Harry followed her up into the boy’s dormitory; Ron’s snores could be heard from behind the closed bed hangings that surrounded his bed. Harry changed his clothes in the bathroom and returned to the room to climb into bed.

“Are you going to tuck me in?” he asked Ginny with a smirk.

“If you’d like,” she said, smiling. He gulped the potion and pulled her into a kiss before the effects overtook him. As he began to get drowsy, she fluffed his pillow and asked, “Harry, how did you find out Professor Trent was a Metamorphmagus?”

Harry was slightly taken back by the question, but the potion was beginning to work, and it made him feel kind of woozy. She leaned back beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. He put his head on top of hers and explained what had happened the night he and Ron met with Malfoy in the corridor by the hump-backed witch. She prodded him through the confrontation and how Professor Trent had joined them. He told the story up to the part where Wormtail had joined them in the tunnel by Honeydukes before falling asleep. It had been easy to tell her. Maybe it was because of the potion, maybe because he was getting used to talking about things with her. He wasn’t certain which, but either way, it hadn’t been a stressful conversation, and he was okay with it.

The next morning, facing the light of day, he realized that she’d successfully managed to do what she set out to do – got him to open up about part of the kidnapping. He smiled inwardly at her tenacity and sincerely hoped it would help. He knew Remus really wanted him to open up and talk about it. He also knew Remus was more than willing to talk about it with him. Somehow, he just didn’t feel he could open up that much to Remus. It was easier with Ginny. He wasn’t certain that he’d ever be able to get through everything that happened in that cell, but maybe taking it one step at a time would work.

After showering and dressing, he met Ginny and Hermione in the common room and headed down to breakfast. Apparently, Ron had already gone downstairs. Hermione looked tired, as if she hadn’t slept well.

“All right, Hermione?” he asked as they sat down at the Gryffindor table.

“I know you’ll take his side, Harry, so you might as well just go and sit over there,” she said, nodding her head to a spot further down the table, where Ron sat with Neville and Dean. Hermione’s tone sounded slightly hysterical, as if she’d worked herself into a state over the idea of losing both her best friends.

“I’m not taking either side, Hermione. I’m hoping you two can work it out,” he said, trying to reassure her. Ginny nodded emphatically.

“I’m not certain this one will work out, Harry. I’ve made my decision. I’ve thought a lot about this, and I want to go to work at the Institute. Ron is acting like I’ve betrayed him for wanting something different from what we’d planned.”

“You know how Ron is, Hermione – he’s all bark at first. He’ll come around after he has a chance to think about it properly,” Harry reasoned.

“I don’t know, Harry. All last year, Ron never gave up on the idea of becoming an Auror. Even when he didn’t get into Snape’s Potions class – he always believed everything would work out. When Cordelia trained him, and then let him in her class, he thought he was set. When he learned that I was having second thoughts, he just…he blew a gasket,” Hermione said, ending with her nose in a tissue. Ginny consoled her by patting her back.

“I think that his pride might be hurt since you didn’t talk with him before your decision was final,” Ginny said tentatively, biting her lip.

“Hermione, you have to do what feels right for you. Ron knows that…he just doesn’t like surprises. He’ll come around,” Harry said. He knew Ron, and he knew how proud he was of Hermione’s intelligence. He would never hold her back intentionally.

“We’ll see,” said Hermione, shrugging. “He hasn’t been himself lately, and he doesn’t want to listen to me. I think he’s using the idea of becoming an Auror as a grounding force – something he can control. To be honest, I’m not certain that’s even what Ron really wants. He only decided to be an Auror because it’s what you want to do, and he wants us all to stay together.”

“We’ll always be together, Hermione,” Harry said firmly. “Even if we all take jobs on opposite ends of the world, we’ll stay together. You, Ron, and Ginny are my family, and I have no intention of giving any of you up.”

Harry was startled when Hermione flung her arms around him and hugged him tightly. Ginny joined in on the other side so he was sandwiched between them. “We love you, too, Harry,” Ginny said, sniffling.

“Of course, we do,” said Hermione.

Professor McGonagall – who was handing out their timetables – interrupted them. “Here you are. See to it that you arrive to your first class on time,” she said sternly as she moved along the table. Harry grabbed his and tried to rush past the awkwardness he felt over their embrace.

“What’s this Wizarding Living class?” asked Harry, staring at his timetable.

“Honestly, Harry,” Hermione said, sounding exasperated. “Didn’t you read any of the material in your Head Boy letter? Wizarding Living is a required class for all seventh-year students. It meets once a week and basically prepares us for life on our own. We’ll be shown simple household charms, how banking with the Goblins works, and what will be expected of us under wizarding law.”

Harry scratched his head. “Well, I can understand how that would be helpful to you and me, since we were raised by Muggles, but you said all seventh-years have to take it.”

“Of course, they do. Even children from pureblood families aren’t allowed to use magic at home, so they haven’t used most of these spells, even if they are aware of them. And honestly, have you ever seen Ron cook or take care of his own laundry? Are you certain he knows how to do it?” Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ginny snorted. “If it weren’t for the smell of food, Ron wouldn’t be able to find the kitchen. She’s right. I don’t know how to do most of those spells; Mum always does them, because I can’t use magic until I turn seventeen. When she gives us chores to do, we always have to do them the Muggle way.”

“Who teaches it? How come I’ve never heard of it?” Harry asked, still feeling put out that he had an extra class on his timetable.

Hermione scowled in disapproval. Obviously, this must have been on the Head Boy letter, as well. “There isn’t a set teacher, all the faculty take turns showing us the different spells. Each year is never the same, and you haven’t heard about it because you’ve never been a seventh-year.”

“We have double Potions first thing,” Harry said, changing the subject. “For the first time since I’ve been here, that news doesn’t make me want to hex everyone in sight.”

Ginny giggled. “I can’t wait for my first class with Cordelia. I don’t have Potions until Wednesday, though.”

“What do you have today?” Harry asked.

“Urgh. Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon,” Ginny groaned.

“Good, you can give me the inside track; I don’t have it until tomorrow,” Harry replied.

“Are you really worried about it, Harry?” Hermione asked. “You and Snape seemed almost civil at the end of last year.”

“That was before our blow-up the morning of the Ministry meeting. I haven’t seen him since. He’s also been under a lot of suspicion from Voldemort,” Harry said quietly. Despite his anger with Snape, he still felt very guilty over the situation in which Snape found himself since helping with the escape from Malfoy Manor.

“He was still out of line that morning. His situation with Voldemort isn’t your fault. He chose to be a spy, and he knew the risks going into it,” Ginny said, putting her arm around his shoulders. He looked over at her and smiled. How does she always know what I’m thinking?

“Speaking of the Ministry,” Hermione said. “What’s going on with their plans to take you into custody?”

“Dunno. Dumbledore said the Ministry observer would be arriving today. I suppose we’ll see what happens when he gets here. There hasn’t been anything in the Prophet about the prophecy, so Fudge must be holding on to that information. I still think he’ll use it when it serves him best, however, “ Harry replied. He’d been trying to steel himself for the time when everyone found out about the prophecy. Somehow, he didn’t think he’d be lucky enough to escape that bombshell.

“But Voldemort already knows about the prophecy, so there really isn’t a danger with everyone knowing. Except, of course, the unfair expectations on you, right?” Ginny asked, squeezing Harry’s waist in sympathy.

“No,” Hermione said, furrowing her brow. “If people learn that Harry is the only one who can defeat him, they’ll stop even trying to resist him. They’ll cower and hide and demand that Harry solve the problem. As long as they feel we’re all in this together, at least there are some that will resist in any way they can. Most wizards still won’t even use his name; they’d jump on the idea of leaving the problem to someone else.”

“She’s right,” Harry said, sighing.

“I wonder who the observer will be,” Ginny said. “I can’t imagine he’ll have a problem with Professor Dumbledore’s own brother instructing you.”

“I dunno. I think Abe has had some run-ins with the Ministry in the past. I’ll let you know tonight,” Harry said, standing up and kissing her head. “We’d better get to class. McGonagall is starting to scowl at us.”

Ginny shook her head. “The trials of being Head Boy. I’ve got Ancient Runes first, so I’ll see you at lunch.”

Ginny headed for her class, and Harry started walking towards the dungeons with Hermione. He glanced over his shoulder at Ron uneasily. Ron appeared to be ignoring them, but Harry knew better. Harry and Hermione had been the only two Gryffindors in their Potions class the previous year. Harry wondered if Ron was the only one who transferred into the class. If he were, partnering up would be difficult. Harry had always worked with Hermione last year, but how could he leave Ron completely on his own? He didn’t think Hermione would be in any mood to partner with Ron or help him out.

They entered the class to find it slightly larger than last year. Aside from Ron, there were three other new students: Ernie MacMillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley from Hufflepuff, and Terry Boot from Ravenclaw. Hermione walked right over to their regular table, and Harry followed. He saw Ron sit with Hannah Abbott, who had also been in their class last year. It suddenly occurred to Harry that the four students who had transferred into Potions were all male; he wondered how much Cordelia’s presence had to do with that.

Cordelia swept into the class and up to the desk at the front of the room. “Good morning, class, and welcome to NEWT-level Potions. I realize some of you are new to this class, and I’m going to do my best to help you along. You may have to stay for some additional tutoring, however. I’d suggest the students who did take this class last year try and help some of your new classmates catch up with their studies. With that in mind, I’m going to ask that you switch lab partners so that an experienced student is matched with each of the new arrivals. Harry and Ron, why don’t you two work together, while Hermione can work with Terry Boot. Hannah, you work with Justin, and Ernie can sit with Lisa.

Lisa Turpin, who had been sitting with Terry Boot, looked extremely put out by the shuffling. Harry thought he saw Hermione’s shoulders stiffen, as well, but everyone else complied.

“All right, then. I’m going to begin today’s lesson with a healing potion that some of you might remember from last year. I apologize to those of you who will find this repetitive, but I need a rough idea of where you all stand in order to plan my lessons accordingly. Also, I feel that in times of war, it is necessary for all of us to be able to brew various healing potions. This is a simple Strengthening Potion. Its effects are temporary, but it can be extremely useful in battle situations, and its shelf life is considerable. Many Aurors keep a dose with them while in the field, because although a complex Strengthening Potion is preferred in hospital, it isn’t practical in wartime. Its usefulness decreases rapidly; it needs to be freshly brewed for full effectiveness.”

The class was staring at her in shock. They’d never had a Potions lesson actually explained in the past. Snape would usually simply put the instructions on the board and tell them to begin.

“What are you all waiting for?” Cordelia asked, smiling. “The ingredients and steps are on the board. I’ll be walking around the room to observe. Feel free to ask any questions you may have. Begin.”

“This is one of the potions Cordelia and I worked on over the summer,” Ron whispered. “I remember it; it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“I think I’ve taken it before,” said Harry.

“I doubt there are many healing potions you haven’t tried, mate.”

Harry snorted. Unfortunately, Ron wasn’t kidding.

He and Ron finished their potion without any problems. Harry noticed Ron casting sideways glances at Hermione and Terry, who were chatting away while mixing their own potion. Most of the Slytherins seemed lost, due to the happy atmosphere in the Potions dungeon.

When the bell rang, Ron picked up his things and started out the door. He turned back to Harry, who had paused to glance uncertainly at Hermione. “Come on, I’m starving,” Ron said.

“Look, if you two don’t want to work things out, can’t we at least all still eat together?” Harry asked in exasperation.

“You go on ahead,” Hermione answered coolly. “I promised Terry I’d help him get started on his Potions homework.”

Ron shrugged and headed out the door, but Harry noticed the distinctive red tinge on his ears. He followed Ron up to the Great Hall, where lunch was already underway. They joined Ginny and Neville at the Gryffindor table. Harry sat next to Ginny, giving her a slight hip-check as he did.

“Hey. How were your first classes?” he asked, smiling brightly.

Ginny returned the smile. “All right. Homework is lighter than last year, so it gives me a chance to do some extra to bring my marks up a bit.”

Neville nodded. “Sixth year is good – in between the OWLs and NEWTs. They don’t push you as hard.”

“Good,” Ginny said.

“Don’t let your mother hear you say that,” Harry teased.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “So, how was class with Cordelia?”

“Pretty good. She did some reviewing, but I think our class will be different from all the others, seeing as we are the only class to have students who missed a year,” Harry said. “She paired new students with old; Ron and I partnered.”

Ginny’s eyes flickered over towards her brother, who hadn’t uttered a word since they sat down. Ginny’s expression was neutral, but Harry could tell she was itching to lay into Ron for his break up with Hermione. “What did you think, Ron?” she asked coolly.

“We’ve never even had a class with the Ravenclaws until last year; how would we ever get so friendly?” Ron asked grumpily.

Ginny was confused, but Harry hid his smirk behind a glass of pumpkin juice. “I’ve had plenty of classes with the Ravenclaws, but only one with the Hufflepuffs. I think they just arrange them according to whatever works. What does that have to do with your Potions class?” Ginny asked, her forehead scrunched up in confusion.

“N-nothing,” replied Ron.

“Ron, are you ill? Did you take anything from Fred or George before the train departed? You should know better than to trust anything they give you. Why are you acting so odd?” Ginny asked with a frown.

“Odd, am I?” Ron yelled, his voice growing louder on each syllable. “Fine. Take her side; you’re going to, anyway. I’ll see you in the Room of Requirement after Hagrid’s class, Harry,” Ron said before pushing his tray away, getting up, and storming away from the table.

Harry calmly looked over at Ginny. “You certainly have a way with people, dear.”

“He’s gone mad. What set him off?” Ginny asked, giggling.

“Hermione was partnered with Terry Boot, and she stayed after class to help him with some homework,” Harry answered, piling some roasted chicken on his plate.

Ginny’s eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline. “Terry Boot, huh?”

“Why? Is there something I don’t know about Terry Boot?”

“Hermione has taken Arithmancy with him for years; he’s always had a crush on her,” Ginny said with a smirk.

“Merlin, don’t tell Ron that,” Harry said, wondering how it could have escaped his notice all this time. Although, the more he thought about it, the less surprising it became. He’d always been rubbish at picking up on anything to do with feelings. He usually needed to be hit bluntly in the face before he recognized them.

“What do you mean ‘don’t tell Ron’? Of course I’m going to tell him. I’m his little sister, Harry. It’s my job to torment him,” Ginny said before turning back towards her lunch.

Harry wasn’t certain if she was serious, but, somehow, he suspected she was. He caught Neville’s eye across the table, and the other boy quickly turned away. Harry was certain he saw Neville hiding a grin behind a chicken leg.

“So, you’re going up to meet with Abe next?” Ginny asked quietly.

“Yeah. I’m not certain what he has planned to start, but I’m certain we’ll begin working on the curse soon. After Ron joins us, we’re going to practice fencing.”

“I’m off to Defense with Snape,” Ginny said with a frown. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Okay, see you after class.”

Harry headed up to the Room of Requirement and found Abe already inside waiting for him. He was dressed in robes but wearing a polka-dotted Muggle necktie tied around his head. He had his rock-and-roll music blaring, though he turned the volume down when he caught sight of Harry.

“Good afternoon, laddie. How’s it hanging?” Abe said in greeting.

Harry chuckled; he couldn’t help but like Abe. “It’s hanging fine, Abe. You know, most Muggles wear those around their necks.”

“Eh? What do Muggles know? Why would I willingly put a noose around my own neck as a fashion statement? Come on in; we’ve got to get working on this ruddy Curse of the Damned. Who names this stuff, anyway?” Abe asked.

“I’d like to practice some spellwork today, as well, just to be ready for tomorrow,” Harry said.

“Why? What’s happening tomorrow that I don’t know about?” Abe asked, looking at him sharply.

“My first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson…with Snape,” Harry said darkly.

“Now, you know I’m supposed to tell you its Professor Snape, lad. Worried about it, are you?” Abe asked with a grin.

“Well…I’m not looking forward to it, exactly,” Harry replied sheepishly.

“I’ve never had a problem with Snape. At least you always know where you stand – he hates everyone. Some more than others, however.”

“That would be me.”

“Your own lack of self-confidence is your greatest challenge. Do you think Snape could beat you in a duel?” Abe asked.

Harry thought about it for a minute. If it were a Legilimency lesson, or something that involved brewing a Potion, Harry knew Snape would wipe the floor with him, but in a duel? “I don’t think so,” Harry said quietly, feeling awkward admitting he thought he could beat a teacher. “If I had to, I think I could win.”

“Exactly, and you can. You’re an excellent duelist and a very powerful wizard, Harry. Don’t let him intimidate you. Walk into that class with confidence, show them what you’re made of, and ignore anything ole Snape has to say. Al always did like to bring home strays.”

Harry snorted, enjoying the image in his head.

“All right, now. There is no way to practice this spell without invoking it, so what we need to do is work on strengthening your natural power so you’ll be able to control the spell. I’m going to teach you some advanced Transfiguration – how to animate lifeless objects. I’m certain Professor McGonagall will be covering this stuff this year, as well. What I want you to be able to do is animate things to defend you, if needed,” Abe said.

“Professor Dumbledore did something like that in the Department of Mysteries during my fifth year,” Harry said, his heart still clenching with the memory of that night.

“Yes, Al is quite good with Transfiguration – always was a bit of a show-off, if you ask me,” Abe said with a grin.

They spent the afternoon practicing. Harry made some progress, but felt it would be some time before he caught up to Dumbledore’s abilities, if ever. When Ron joined them in the Room of Requirement, both were ready for a new diversion. Ron burst into laughter when he got a look at Abe.

“Did you lose, and Harry got to pick your outfit?” Ron asked.

Abe pulled himself up in a mock-dignified manner. “I do believe that if I had any care whatsoever to fashion, I’d be insulted. Therefore, it’s a good thing I couldn’t care less.”

Both Harry and Ron chuckled.

“Have you done any fencing before, lad?” Abe asked Ron.

“No, sir.”

“Okay. We’ll have Harry take it easy on you, then. Just some basic moves. I’ll charm the swords so that you won’t accidentally cut anything off, but why don’t you two put on your protective gear, anyway,” Abe said.

Harry grinned at Ron. “Don’t worry, Ron. I’ll go as easy on you as you did on me when you first taught me to play chess.”

Ron visibly gulped. “Right.”

After they’d put on some armor, Ron tried to pick up a sword. Harry watched him as he stumbled slightly, and his eyes grew wide.

“They’re much heavier than I thought,” he said.

Harry grinned, remembering how his arms shook with fatigue the first time he’d practiced with Remus. “I know. It surprises you, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Ron said, taking a firmer grip and practicing a few slicing motions. “It always looked so easy when I’ve seen anyone use them before.”

Abe showed Ron some basic moves and whispered a few tips in his ear to make him grin.

“What are you saying to him?” Harry asked in mock indignation.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, laddie. Can’t let you have all the secret weapons, now, can we? Eh? What would that teach you? All right, I’m going to put on some music to get your hearts pumping, and you two do your stuff. I’m going to have a smoke. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that to Al. He thinks I quit a long time ago.” Abe was silent for a moment. He stood still, wearing a thoughtful expression, then added, “Best if you didn’t tell Cordelia, either.”

He moved to the back of the room and pulled out a crumpled up pack of cigarettes while Ron and Harry grinned.

“He certainly doesn’t remind me of Professor Dumbledore,” Ron said.

“Actually, he does me. They’re very different outwardly, but…I dunno, there is something there that is very similar.”

Ron scratched his head. “If you say so, mate.”

The two boys sparred for a while, but since Ron was a complete beginner, Harry easily bested him. When they’d both grown fatigued, Harry threw a towel towards Ron, who stared at Abe. Abe was reading a book and humming along with the music, but the smoke from whatever he was smoking definitely didn’t smell like nicotine.

“This was good, Harry. Thanks,” Ron said, changing his shirt and not looking at him.

“No problem. It helped me last year to get out some aggression,” Harry said, shrugging.

“I know I’m being a prat, but I can’t help it. I’m fine, then I just get so hacked off about everything. I didn’t even like Malfoy – but I don’t like that it was me who killed him. I think this fencing might help. It’ll make me too tired to want to argue, anyway,” Ron said.

“That alone is worth it, then,” Harry replied with a grin before turning serious. “I’m sorry, Ron. I know it cost you a lot, and I know you did it for me-”

“Don’t, Harry,” Ron interrupted. “You couldn’t defend yourself at that point; you were exhausted. I wasn’t going to let him hurt you. Even now, knowing what I know, if I had to chose between him living so I wouldn’t be a killer, or losing you – I’d do everything the same way again and again. It’s no contest, really. Moody told me that the first one is the hardest, which really wasn’t all that comforting. I just wasn’t prepared for it. I thought I was going to be used as a bargaining chip against you. It would be easier if I’d known a fight was coming.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Harry said softly. He knew the fight with Voldemort was coming and that he’d have to kill or be killed. He’d known for over a year now, and he still felt as if he was being strangled by the knowledge at times.

“I suppose not,” Ron said, sighing. “Still, if we’re going to be Aurors, I suppose we have to get used to the idea. It’s not just Malfoy; I get so angry when I think about Charlie, too. Did you know he was the one who showed me how to fly? I was four or five, and he used to sneak me out to the paddock and take me on rides on his broom. He let me try by myself one day, and Mum nearly killed him. Ginny told on us, because she was angry that he wouldn’t let her have a go. Even though I haven’t seen him much recently, suddenly knowing I can’t makes me miss him.” Ron’s voice trailed off at the end.

“And it makes you angry with him,” Harry said quietly, nodding as if Ron were speaking his own thoughts.

“I am not angry with Charlie,” Ron spat.

Harry quirked one eyebrow and waited patiently for Ron to speak again.

“Okay, maybe I am. I know it’s stupid, but he charged down that alleyway without even thinking.”

“It’s not stupid to be angry at him…I think it might be normal,” Harry said, remembering feeling the same thing toward Sirius.

“How do you know what’s normal?” Ron demanded, still sounding angry.

Harry again quirked his eyebrow, this time so far it reached his hairline.

“Oh. Right,” Ron mumbled.

“I was angry with Sirius for a long time, although I didn’t want to admit it. I think I can remember being angry with my parents when I was little, too. Even this summer, I’ve had bouts of anger towards Jonathan,” Harry said, sighing.

“Great, so my life is turning into yours,” Ron said, rolling his eyes.

Harry snorted. “Suppose so.”

“It sucks to be you.”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Harry said. “What about Hermione? You can’t keep avoiding each other, and I don’t want to be in the middle.”

Ron scowled. “Sorry, mate, but I think you’re stuck there for a while. I think some time apart might do us both some good.”

“Do you really mean that?” Harry asked, stunned.

“Yeah, I do.”

Abe interrupted them. “All right, boys, time’s up for today. I got a note from Al that the Ministry worker has arrived and is meeting with him now. I’m going up to Al’s office to join them.”

“Do I need to be there?” Harry asked, hoping he didn’t.

“No. I’m certain the meddling bloke will join us at your next lesson. Go find your lady friend and have a snog,” Abe said with a grin.

“Ewww,” Ron said, scrunching up his face in disgust. “That’s my sister!”

“And a dishy little number she is,” Abe called out as he left the room. Harry quietly slipped out the door while Ron was still grumbling.

He found Ginny’s dot on the Marauder’s Map. She was sitting out by the lake in the same hidden spot he’d used when he grieved for Sirius in fifth year. With a perplexed frown, he left the common room and headed downstairs and out the front doors.

He found Ginny sitting with her back against a tree, crying softly and wiping at her eyes with a well-worn handkerchief.

“Ginny!” Harry cried in alarm. He rushed down the slippery embankment and sat by her side. “What’s wrong, luv? What happened?” He took her in his arms and pulled her tightly against him. His chest felt constricted; he hated to see her cry.

Ginny sniffed and swiped angrily at her tears. “Oh, Harry, it’s nothing. We were in Defense class, and we started talking about dragons. It was stupid, really…but it made me think of Charlie.” Ginny’s voice broke on the last word, and she buried her face into Harry’s chest.

Harry winced. “I’m sorry, Ginny. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel better. It’s not stupid. I remember how random little things about Sirius used to make me sad for quite a while after I lost him.”

“You do make me feel better. Being with you makes me feel better,” she said, sighing and snuggling closer.

“Well, then, you’ll just have to snuggle up more often.”

She giggled. “I’m sorry to cry all over you again, Harry. I’m really not usually such a faucet.”

“Shut it, Ginny. You just lost one of your brothers. You’re supposed to cry, and I want you to come to me. I certainly cried on you a fair share last year, and you said that I was supposed to do that. That friends were supposed to support each other,” Harry said, stroking her hair.

Ginny was silent for a minute, but Harry could see her twisting her lips back and forth in a scowl. Finally, she said, “I really hate it when you’re right, and I hate it even more when you throw my own words back at me.” She grumpily crossed her arms and leaned back against him.

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sorry.” He tried to keep his face straight, knowing his amusement was irritating her, but he couldn’t help it and burst into laughter when he saw her lips twitch.

“You’re impossible,” Ginny said with a grin. “You have no idea how lucky you are that I think you’re cute.”

“You’re pretty cute when you’re grumpy, too. How was Defense with Snape?” he asked, trying to change the subject before she hexed him.

“Urgh, he’s such a git. I think he’s really unhappy that he couldn’t put restrictions on who took the class. He was in a foul mood, particularly when everyone in the DA performed so well. I really think you ruined his day without even being there,” Ginny said with a smirk.

“Great, so he’ll take points from me even before I sit down tomorrow,” Harry said, shaking his head.

“So, what else is new?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Too true.”

“How was your training? What happened with the Ministry observer?” Ginny asked.

“Never met him. Abe went up to meet with him and Professor Dumbledore. Abe said he thought he’d be there at our next lesson. I’m more concerned about Defense class right now.”

“Oh, Harry. You’ll be fine. You can handle whatever Snape dishes out,” Ginny said, squeezing him with affection.

“I hope you’re right.”

Harry dragged his feet on his way to Defense Against the Dark Arts the next morning, trailing behind Ron and Hermione. Neither of them was speaking to the other, and Harry’s stomach, already in knots from dreading the confrontation with Snape, clenched in misery.

“Come on, Harry. Dawdling won’t change anything, and if we’re late it will only make it worse,” Hermione said, cajoling him into walking faster.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one he’s going to jump all over first thing,” Ron replied.

“He’s certainly never been overly friendly to me, but he’s still a teacher, and there is no sense in looking for trouble,” Hermione snapped.

Ron rolled his eyes. Trying to divert a fight, Harry hurried his pace to walk between the two of them. “It’ll be fine. Like Abe said, I know what I can do, so Snape won’t make a difference.”

Ron snorted. “Too right, mate.”

They were the last of the Gryffindors to arrive, but managed to take their seats – Harry sitting between Ron and Hermione – before Snape swept into the room, slamming the door behind him. His gaze swept coldly across the room. Harry wondered how he would handle a class of entirely Gryffindors.

“Good morning. This is your final year of Defense Against the Dark Arts. What you have managed to learn during your time here will be tested academically by the NEWTs at the end of the year, but, more importantly, it could save your life if you ever need to defend yourself during this war. As you are all aware, I prefer to teach the outstanding performers…those who show a clear aptitude for the subject and the desire to apply themselves to learning. Due to the fact that we are at war, it is believed that we need to teach the less-than-stellar performers in Defense since they need it the most,” Snape said, sneering and staring particularly hard at Harry at the end of his speech.

Harry felt heat on his neck as his anger rose. He was insulted by Snape’s words, and he knew it was exactly what Snape had intended. Not only had Harry received an “O” on his Defense OWL, but he’d also scored in the top 10 overall in all of Hogwarts history. He was very proud of that score, because it was something he had done on his own. It had nothing to do with his being the Boy-Who-Lived; he’d achieved that score even before he began all his extra training.

His vision blurred slightly, and he could see tiny pricks of bright light as his fury mounted. It was a sharp pinch on his thigh from Hermione that brought his focus back to the classroom. He let out a hiss of breath before looking at her in surprise and rubbing the sore spot.

“Don’t let him goad you; that’s what he’s trying to do. Can’t you see that?” she hissed in exasperation.

She was right. Snape was trying to goad him into losing his temper so Snape could take points away and prove his point. Harry wasn’t going to let him do it. He remembered telling Neville one time last year how Malfoy used his words as a weapon and not to be distracted by it. Snape did the same thing. Harry practiced some of the meditative breathing techniques Jonathan had showed him to calm his emotions. He had to stay in control. Snape wasn’t going to push him around, not in this class – they were on Harry’s home field now.

Snape seemed almost disappointed by the lack of reaction from Harry. He sneered as he continued with his lecture. “We will begin the year with a series of mock duels amongst your classmates. After some practice, we will be joining with the other seventh-year classes. The best way to test your reflexes and ability to think on your feet is in an actual situation where you are forced not only to use your skills, but to think about what you need to do as well. Madam Pomfrey has been forewarned to be expecting some of you,” he said, glaring hard at Neville.

Harry noticed that Hermione looked nervous, but determined, while Ron appeared eager to begin. Harry was looking forward to this, surprisingly. Not only would it be good practice, but it would also be fun. He just never expected to find himself in the position that he’d be looking forward to Snape’s class.

A/N: Thanks, as always, to Mistral for all her hard work in fixing my mistakes. I really appreciate all your effort, Mistral.

I was amused by the reviews last week. There is a definite split in the Ron/Hermione camp with half of you blaming Ron and the other blaming Hermione. I LOVE that! Even so, nearly all of you want it to be temporary. Ron and Hermione are both passionate people who feel strongly about things, but neither is always willing to listen to another opinion. They both need to learn to back down once in a while, so I’m going to play with that for a bit.

Thanks for all the well wishes on Ginevra. She’s already proved worth her weight in gold. My youngest son, who has adamantly refused to potty train, heard me say that I’d have Ginny trained before him. He took this as a challenge and promptly told me he was going to be first. Little bugger has done it so far, too! Woo Hoo!