Chapter 48 - part 3

Chapter 9: New ClassesSummary:Hazel meets a few new teachers, and is quick to decide on favorites. Maybe a little too quick?

Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextIn the morning, Hazel brushed her teeth again and put on her robes, and went out into the common room, where once again Blaise was up before anyone else. "Hazel," he murmured, looking up from his book and tipping her a nod.

"Blaise." She nodded back and sat down across from him. "You hosted Draco and Narcissa over the summer."

"Oh, she's Narcissa to you?" he drawled. "Hm. We did, yes, as the picture we sent would testify. Mother and the Lady Malfoy got along quite well, while Draco and I spent much time reading outside."

"You didn't slack off on your Quidditch or your homework, right?"

He rolled his eyes at that. "You sound like Flint! But no, we didn't slack off. The team's got nothing to worry about."

"No, it doesn't." She'd been waiting for someone new who could appreciate her new broom, and finally had someone! "We're gonna be just fine this year, Blaise, my godfather bought me a Firebolt!"

That finally broke through his cool facade, and he gaped at her for a few silent moments. "You're joking! A Firebolt? Who has that kind of money to spend on a kid?"

"Sirius Black does, apparently," she replied smugly. "And it's every bit as good as they say it is! You wouldn't believe the stuff I did!"

"What's got you two all excited so early?" Draco complained, yawning as he ambled out of the boy's dorm.

"Hazel was telling me about her new broom," Blaise drawled, swiftly recovering from the shock. "Her new Firebolt broom…"

"What!" Draco seemed more outraged than impressed, though it had definitely woken him up. "Have you told Flint yet? Does Snape know?"

Hazel figured Snape might be unhappy, if only because of who bought it for her. She threw Blaise a look of warning over her shoulder. "No, I haven't told Flint or Snape yet, but they'll find out soon, I'm sure." That was how it was with secrets at Hogwarts, after all…

After breakfast, the Heads of House went around handing out schedules, and Hazel both dreaded and anticipated hers. "Quite ambitious this year, Potter," Snape murmured as he handed hers down. "You were not the only one to sign up for so many classes, however, so you won't be alone."

"Who else did, sir?" she asked, looking at the crowded slip of paper. Twelve classes in five days managed to look like a lot…

"Your friend Miss Granger, as I'm sure you were aware," he replied. "Miss Patil from Ravenclaw and Miss Bones from Hufflepuff also requested a full schedule, and to my knowledge Professors Flitwick and Sprout had no reason not to give it to them."

He moved onto the next student, and Hazel made sure she had her things before standing up and going to meet with Hermione. "Full deck?" she asked when she caught up to her, even though she already knew the answer.

"Yes, you?" she replied, holding her schedule out. They had the same classes, it seemed, and when Padma and Susan came up to them too it turned out they all had the same schedule, except for the odd double class or two.

"Is it really so rare for students to take more than the minimum?" Hazel wondered as they took off for Divination. "Magic is fascinating! I want to learn as much as I can before leaving here!"

"I just wanted to try out all the classes," Padma said practically, and Susan nodded in agreement. "I really don't think I'll be able to keep up with all of them for the next five years."

"Watch me," Hermione muttered grimly, "I don't care if it's a soft option or hard, I will make it all the way!"

Hazel just shook her head. "Come on you guys, the North Tower is clear at the other end of the castle," was all she said. Seven long stairs and one narrow spiral staircase later, she was quite thankful for her sense of direction, and for the helpful paintings that seemed to hang everywhere.

Divination took place in a cramped room near the top of the tower, and Hazel sneezed repeatedly when the trap door fell open and a heavy scent of musty perfume wafted downward. Climbing the ladder, she saw a number of round tables, all with plush armchairs and cushioned stools instead of the usual desks and chairs; all the windows were tightly shut and curtained, a haze of that perfumed smoke wafted off a boiling teakettle above a roaring fire, and the shelves on the walls were crammed with divination tools: dusty feathers, well worn candles, many packs of battered old playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and a wide array of teacups in all manner of colors and patterns.

"Why is everything all red?" Hazel muttered as she took a table with Padma and Hermione. "Red isn't a very relaxing color." She loosened her collar to get some air, and pulled her hair back from her face.

Behind the desk at the front of the class, beaded curtains shifted and someone stepped into view. "Welcome," came a soft and misty kind of voice, which belonged to a soft and misty kind of woman. "How nice to see you all in my classroom, at last."

She was very thin, and wearing a heavy spangled shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her wrists clinked with the many bracelets and bangles and rings she had on, and even more beaded necklaces and chains hung heavily about her neck. A scarf held her dusty hair back from her face, and her glasses were so thick they magnified her eyes quite hugely.

"My name is Sybill Trelawney, but you may address me as Professor Trelawney," she went on, pacing about the room. "You are here, of course, to study Divination…"

"Professor?" Hazel asked, putting her hand up. "Are you related to Cassandra Trelawney?"

"Why, yes!" The Professor seemed quite happy to have this fact recognized, and she smiled at Hazel. "She was my great-great-grandmother, in fact! And she wrote the very book you all were required to procure before coming here." She was at the table where Padma's sister Parvati was seated, with her Gryffindor friend Lavender Brown, and both of them seemed very impressed. "Published under her maiden name, of course."

She rearranged her shawl and continued pacing about the room. "I will warn you now, Divination is the most difficult and dangerous of all the magical arts, and if you do not possess the Sight there is very little you will gain from my instruction; books and papers will only take you so far in my classroom…"

Hazel glanced at Hermione, and she could tell the other girl was quite nonplussed at the suggestion that a book wouldn't be useful here.

"I do not mean to suggest you are not talented in other areas, of course. However, the usual bangs and smells and sudden disappearings are of little use here," Professor Trelawney went on, and she paused before Neville. "It is a rare gift, indeed…" She lingered, and Neville squirmed beneath her melancholy gaze. "My boy, how is your grandmother lately?"

"Huh? M-My Gram?" Neville stammered, caught off guard by the question. "I- she just wrote this morning…"

"I would reply back as soon as you can, dear." She adjusted her glasses, and Hazel noticed she also wore large green earrings. "Anyway. We will, of course, cover the basics for the first term, tea leaves and palmistry... later in the year we shall study fire omens, and if we're lucky, the crystal ball…"

Professor Trelawney stopped in front of the fire and gazed sadly at them all. "Unfortunately we may not get that far… many classes in February will be interrupted by the flu… and by Easter, one of us in this room will never return…!" She sniffed and looked very tragic, and the Gryffindors, especially Lavender and Parvati, were eating it all up; even Hermione seemed a little uncertain.

The Professor returned to her wing-backed chair by the fire, and beckoned for everyone to get a teacup and come forward. "Divide into pairs, sit down and drink your tea quickly, until only the dregs remain. Swirl the dregs three times about in your left hand- your left,young man!" This was aimed at Neville, who jumped and dropped his cup. "Never mind, dear… take one of the blue cups this time…"

"Come here, Neville," Hazel called, pointing her wand and muttering "Reparo," at the shattered porcelain. He got a new cup and approached her nervously, and she waved her wand to clean the spilled tea off his robes.

"Thanks, Hazel," he mumbled, not meeting her eye. He got a fresh allotment of tea and hurried to sit down with Dean Thomas, who had already carried out the instructions and was waiting to swap cups.

Padma went to sit with her sister, leaving Hazel and Hermione alone together. They drank their tea with matching grimaces, swirled it in their left hands and turned the cups over to let the dregs drain onto their saucers. Then they swapped and started examining the sodden leaves.

"This is pointless," Hermione grumbled, turning the saucer this way and that. "These shapes could be anything! A bowler hat, an acorn, the sun…" She brushed her frizzy hair back and consulted the book again. "You're going to have, uh… an encounter with a government official, followed by an... unexpected windfall…?"

"I'll take it," Hazel giggled, peering into Hermione's cup. "I see a… a clipboard, I think, and a broken cross… you're going to struggle with something important, and you'll have to try harder to avoid failure…" She jiggled the saucer slightly. "Ah, no, it's an anchor, sorry, so whatever you're trying to do will succeed…"

She put the saucer down and sneezed. "Professor, can we open a window? Something in your incense is making me-" but she broke off to sneeze yet again.

"The incense is meant to focus the Inner Eye, my dear… but if your body cannot handle it, kindly move to that table by the wall, there, and open the window precisely two inches." Professor Trelawney was pointing to an empty table against the wall. "When your head is clear you can close the window again and refocus on your partner's tea leaves."

"Thanks, Professor." She got up and went to sit at the indicated table, cracking the window and breathing in lungfuls of fresh air. Gradually her nose cleared and she could breathe without sneezing again. "Okay then, ready for more bad news, Hermione?"

Professor Trelawney let them out early, after it turned out that one of the other students was supposed to die soon. "I think they were right, Divination IS a soft option," Hermione said impatiently as they climbed down the ladder and started down the narrow stairs. "All that about books being no good, and then she has us studying out of the book!"

"What else were we supposed to study out of?" Susan asked with a shrug. "At least we didn't get any homework."

Arithmancy was taught by a strict-looking witch in red robes and a strict attitude; she was shorter and younger than Professor McGonagall, and her hair was down, but those were the only real differences. "You will address me as Professor Vector," she began, tapping her wand against her palm as she paced down the middle of the class. "I'm sure all your teachers say this, but in this case it's true: Arithmancy is one of the more difficult branches of magic, because its focus is elsewhere. Other branches worry about what or how; in this class, we will concern ourselves with 'why?'"

A Hufflepuff boy was dozing off, and she rapped his desk with her wand, causing a puff of smoke to hit him in the face. "Why should a potion be stirred seven times instead of six? Why use a silver trowel when replanting moondew instead of an iron one? Why are Unbreakable Vows sworn in threes? Why are wards drawn in circles instead of squares?" she recited, proceeding apace as if there had been no interruption. The boy she'd awakened coughed, and did not fall asleep again.

"You will, hopefully, attain these answers, and more! Arithmancy is the basis of many other branches of magical creation; how can you design new spells, for instance, if you cannot balance the forces at work, discern the effects of one syllable in relation to another? How can you brew new potions if you cannot measure the ingredients, judge how they might react in situations of stress? How can you do any of this if you do not know the laws that underpin its workings?"

She had returned to the front of the class by now. "You can even, if you come to understand the numbers and graphs, learn to read the future. But this is not Divination, with tea leaves and foggy glass balls; this is math, and numbers, and something very close to Muggle science and arithmetic. And that is where we shall begin!"

She flicked her wand and sheafs of parchment flew out to every student. "On the underside of your desks you will find an abacus, a slate and a piece of chalk. Use whichever implements you like to solve the mathematical problems on these parchments. There is no shame in ignorance in this class, no matter what House you come from; if you cannot solve a problem, leave it for later."

Hazel suspected this wasn't an actual assignment so much as a method for the Professor to judge how mathematically sound her students were. She smirked, figuring that at last there was an area of magic where Muggle-borns would have an advantage, however slight, over purebloods. Next to her, Hermione had put aside all the offered implements and was solving them in her head, one after another; Hazel bent over her sheet and did the same, working as quickly as she could, determined not to lose even in this small instance.

Naturally they finished ahead of the others, and Professor Vector went around desk by desk, rapidly grading and judging each finished sheet as she went. "Very well done, Miss Potter, you got them all correct," she said with a smile. "And so quickly, too! I expect no less from Miss Granger, either?"

As it turned out, half the class was already ahead on what Professor Vector had planned, and Hazel was rapidly coming to the conclusion that she had a new favorite teacher. So when her half of the class got three months' worth of Arithmancy homework to keep themselves occupied while the Professor taught the rest, Hazel could only shake her head and wish for a Muggle calculator.

She settled for the next best thing, by lingering after class. "Professor," she began, approaching Professor Vector, "how do I use an abacus?"

Notes:It seems I'm going to have to adjust my update schedule, since work is picking up again. Look out for new chapters every Friday, Saturday or Sunday, going forward! And to make up for the delay this week, I'm updating twice!

Chapter 10: More New ClassesSummary:Hazel is still making friends and influencing people, not all of which are human. She really likes Care of Magical Creatures, okay.

Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextAncient Runes was taught by a very, very old witch named Bathsheda Babbling, who actually had to use an Amplifying Charm to make herself heard. "Please, settle down," she croaked, struggling to her feet. "I am Professor Babbling, and you are here to learn the basics of Ancient Runes."

She walked with a limp, leaning on a long wooden staff, and every step looked painful; Hazel wondered why she didn't remain seated.

"Runes are permanent, in ways that other spells are not. So you must be precise in your carving, your intention; a rune carved into a tree in midsummer, by a content and happy wizard, will have a very different effect if carved into the same tree in midwinter, by a mourning and sorrowful wizard. Spells and magics from other branches can be worked into them, for instance…"

She raised her wand, tapped a notch on her staff; a runic symbol gleamed bright, and green light engulfed the Professor. When it faded a much younger witch stood before them, confident and powerful. "Magic to transform, to obfuscate and to hide," she smirked, and the class clapped appreciatively. "You don't need Animagus potions or Metamorphmagus powers when you have the right runes in hand. Now, open your books to page three…"

The rest of the period was spent copying and translating the runic alphabet provided for them, after which Professor Babbling critiqued their work. "Potter, you've got the least mistakes of everyone in here," she declared after a few moments of scrutinizing her parchment. "But you got the most important runes wrong."

"I did?" Hazel was startled, not by the fact she'd gotten it wrong, but the fact that whichever ones she'd messed up were somehow different from the rest. "Um, which ones did I-?"

"These." Professor Babbling flicked her wand and handed the parchment back, and Hazel saw corrections in bright red ink. "Homework for all of you, copy these runes down without correcting yourself until you get them right. Bring every parchment you used so I can see how you progressed."

"Professor, how will we know if we've got them right?" Hermione asked, sticking her hand up.

"Ah, right." Another flick of the wand, and green quills flew out to all the students. "Use these, and you'll know when you've gotten it right."

After that was lunch, then double Transfiguration with the Gryffindors and Slytherins. It was a little strange, not having Padma or Susan next to them, but Professor McGonagall's lesson on the basics of Animagi were quite interesting, though the homework she assigned on the limitations and legality of being an Animagus wasn't so much.

History of Magic finished the day off, and Hazel made sure her flask was full of hot coffee in preparation for an exceptionally long lecture on medieval witch hunts. As usual, only half the students paid any attention at all, and Hazel knew she could anticipate numerous pleas to borrow her notes over the next week or so.

Study group that evening was mostly silent, since everyone had homework to work on. The exception was Colin Creevey, of course, who was still overly excited about literally everything and Hazel couldn't see how he constantly kept it up. She hadn't been that-

-well, she'd wanted to be, maybe. But things conspired to take away any time to be that excited about magic. Goddamn things, anyway. She reminded herself to try and make time to meet with him about taking pictures, and hoped that without Lockhart around it'd be more tolerable.

Afterward she caught up with Fred and George, glad that they didn't have to worry about curfew so much. "Alright guys?"

"Fine as wine, Hazel." Fred sighed. "We kinda forgot this was OWLs year…"

"We're gonna have as much homework as you…"

"...and we aren't in half as many classes!"

"Well, we can still meet up to spar, can't we?" She didn't want to lose this, she couldn't afford to slack off her training. "On Sundays, maybe?"

"For a few hours, I guess."

"If that maniac Oliver isn't drilling us to pieces for Quidditch!"

Hazel laughed. "Yeah, I bet Flint's gonna be on us too, especially once it gets out about my new broom." She couldn't help the smug smirk as their faces fell at the reminder. "If nothing else I could always go swimming with the giant squid!"

"Yeah, good luck swimming when the lake freezes over," George scoffed. "Not even a Warming Charm can keep that chill out for long!"

Hazel laughed again; the twins could always cheer her up, even if they were in Gryffindor. "I just wanna stay in shape, that's all," she said with a sigh. "Running around all over the castle and Quidditch will only go so far, you know? I mean, you guys are buff, you know what I'm talking about."

"Well, we DID find a gym on the seventh floor once," Fred reminisced, leaning against the wall.

"And it had everything! Weights, benches, dumbbells and barbells, even a mat and pads for sparring."

"But we never found it again, for some reason…"

"A gym that can't be found doesn't do me much good," Hazel noted. "Can you remember exactly where it was?"

George looked up at the ceiling and wracked his brains. "Er, wasn't it by that tapestry, you know, with the trolls in dresses?"

"Yeah, that rings a bell." Fred smirked. "What, gonna figure out another Hogwarts secret, Hazel?"

"If there's even something to find," she countered, flicking her fingers dismissively. "Whatever, it's getting late and I still have homework. See you guys later." She turned and walked off, waving over her shoulder; they waved back and slouched away toward their own common room.

Once back in the dungeons, Hazel got into her books and finished up the night's homework (the green quill Professor Vector gave her turned out to be jinxed so that she couldn't redo her runes, and any mistakes were highlighted in green once a page was finished; she went through five pages before she got them all correct), then went to her dormitory for her nightly routine. Quick workout, shower, mirror, brush teeth; she added left hand exercises to the list as well, and as she stretched out in her bed, Occlumency came quickly, as did sleep.

In the morning she got up early, as usual, and was excited for Care of Magical Creatures. First thing after breakfast! "What are you so excited about?" Millicent muttered, peering out from her covers as Hazel hummed and pranced while getting ready.

"Care of Magical Creatures!" she retorted happily, snapping her skirt into place. "You have any idea how long I've been looking forward to that class?"

"Well, comb your hair before going out, you've got bedhead something awful," Millicent went on, pushing the covers aside and climbing out of bed herself.

Hazel scoffed and went to check, and though she thought it was fine she figured she'd best pretend to give a damn. So she reached up and tied it all back into a messy bun, stuck her tongue out at herself and skipped on out to breakfast, which was a lot of eggs and bacon and hashers, and of course the omnipresent hot sauce.

Marcus Flint sat down next to her as she was pouring more over her food. "I hear you've got a Firebolt, Potter?" he asked, getting down to it straightaway.

She swallowed a mouthful of food and choked, and Flint whipped his wand out. "Anapneo," he said calmly, pointing it at her throat, and she could breathe again. "Take it easy, Potter, it's not gonna run off on you."

"Sorry…" She massaged her throat briefly. "But, um, yes. I've got a Firebolt. Best broom I've ever flown."

"Best broom any one of us will ever fly, I bet." He looked pleased. "Well, we're having tryouts in the second week of September, as usual, and I want everyone to be there, got it?" He looked up at the others, to make sure Draco, Blaise and Millicent were listening too. "I'm not worried about you four, but Bletchley and Bole were on the edge of being kicked off last year because of their grades, so I want solid reserves in place."

"Are we gonna keep taking on decent firsties too?" Millicent asked.

"Yeah, and the lot from last year were pretty solid too, so we should be just fine." His attention went back to Hazel. "Potter, Malfoy, now that you're both filling out some I'm gonna be rotating your positions during practices more, got that? This is my last year and the team's gonna need a captain next year, and just between us it's gonna be one of you two," and he nodded to Draco, who looked pleased by the recognition. "Plus with this NEWT shit I might need a sub in case homework or whatever gets too heavy, so you're also gonna be studying tactics and formations, and I'll teach you a few tricks to keep the rest of the kids in line."

"Sounds good," Hazel replied, though she quailed on the inside. More studying? Remembering the pulled muscle incident from the summer, she cleared her throat. "Oi, Flint, you think we could start stretching and warming up before practices this year? It'll cut down on injuries, I think."

"Sounds like Muggle stuff, but we can try it at least." Flint nodded and walked back to his end of the table, leaving the third years to finish eating and take off for class. 

They crossed paths with the lions on the way out, and Hazel nodded to Ron and Hermione; there was the usual inter-house posturing, but the four friends ignored most of it and kept going for the large paddock on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where the class was being held.

Charlie Weasley stood there, hands in his pockets, feet planted wide, waiting for them to come closer. "Alright?" he called, grinning widely. "Second day of classes, who's ready to give up 'n go home?"

There was a discordant response of yeas and nays, and he chuckled. "So! Care of Magical Creatures! Couple of ground rules we gotta go by first off…"

"Arr, Charlie, git on with it," Hagrid called, stepping into view from inside the Forest. "Gonna do this 'fore every class? Buncha borin' rules never did no one no good!"

"Now Hagrid, who's teaching here?" Charlie looked stern, and Hagrid muttered into his beard. "Right then, everyone got notebooks? Start writing. Rule one: never assume an injured or distressed critter's safe! Don't matter if ya tamed 'em your own self from an egg, don't matter if you're twice its size, none of it matters! Always be cautious and careful!"

He paused to make sure they were taking him seriously and writing his words down. "Rule two, don't mess with the critters unless I say you can, and I'm there watching! No other teachers or staff, got it? There's a perilous few situations where you'd have to handle them in an emergency, and we'll go over those later. My job's supervising, your job's making sure you're supervised!

"And Rule three: if you're ever injured by one of these critters, don't matter if it's a bite or a kick or what have ya, come get me straight away! I know enough first aid to keep you from bleeding out, but I ain't Madam Pomfrey, and none of them critters are the sort to keep clean!"

He gestured at Hagrid. "Now, Hagrid'll be helping me out, often as not, when he ain't doing his own work, cuz being gamekeeper's a real practical use of this class and what it'll teach you. He's prolly just as good as I am, but he ain't the teacher!"

Hazel suspected, from the resentful look Hagrid gave Charlie, that this was a bone of contention between the two that might wind up blowing up in their faces down the line. And she could see why: with his innate toughness and sheer size and strength, Hagrid didn't have to worry so much about safety and health, but Charlie, who didn't have those advantages, had to worry about his own safety and that of the students. She caught Hagrid's eye and winked, and he grinned back and subsided his muttering for now.

"Anyways!" Charlie went on, after checking that everyone was finished taking notes. "Syllabus says I oughta run you through flobberworms and salamanders, but flobberworms is boring. No joke, that's literally how the Ministry classifies 'em! So we're gonna move you up a few months! Hagrid?"

"Now we're talkin'!" Hagrid trotted back into the Forest, returning a minute later with his hands full of thick chains, and at the ends of those chains were-

"Hippogriffs!" Hazel gasped, staring at them in wonder. Half horse and half eagle, with a variety of colors and patterns on their coats and feathers, the proud creatures tossed their heads against the heavy leather collars around their necks, giving everyone disdainful stares.

"Good eye, Hazel, five points for Slytherin. Tie them off on the fence there, Hagrid, go on," Charlie ordered, and Hagrid did so. "Now, all of you watch careful! Hippogriffs are proud creatures, ya gotta mind your tongue and your manners around 'em! Else it'll be the last you do, see them talons?"

Every one of the beasts had lethal looking talons, easily half a foot long at the least. And their beaks were curved and cruel looking too. "Ya gotta show 'em respect. Mind me now." Carefully, Charlie climbed the fence and approached the nearest hippogriff. "Easy now, Buckbeak, you knows me," he said in a low voice, making eye contact and bowing to the creature. Buckbeak turned its head to regard the redhead, then after a moment sank to its knees in reply. "There, see? Now he'll let you close."

He got closer to Buckbeak and reached up to scratch at its neck, and those proud, cruel eyes fluttered closed at the touch. "See? Looks easy, but one false move…" He gave Buckbeak one more pat and stepped back. "Any volunteers?"

Nearly everyone stepped back, and Hazel stepped up. "Me." She climbed the fence herself and slowly approached Buckbeak, who turned its head to regard her with one fierce eye. Doing her best not to blink, she stopped a few yards away and bowed slowly.

"There you go, Hazel, nice and easy…" Charlie muttered, on edge as he watched for Buckbeak's reaction. Abruptly the beast sank to its knobby knees, as it had down before. "Alright then. Wanna pet him?"

"Yes please!" She got closer and caressed its beak, mindful of all the sharp edges on the thing. "I bet he can take my weight up in the air, eh, Professor Weasley?"

"Er…" Charlie seemed to dither for a few seconds, then he grinned widely. "Well, why not, he likes you well enough. Climb up behind the wing joints there, and mind the feathers, don't go pulling them out." He pointed out the spots he meant, and Buckbeak obligingly went to its knees again.

"Right." Still moving carefully, Hazel stepped up to its back and gripped tightly with her knees and thighs. "Uh, where do I put my hands?"

"Round his neck there, see? Now hold on tight!" and he slapped Buckbeak across the withers. "Fly, Buckbeak!"

Twelve foot wings spread out to either side, and powerful muscles flexed beneath her; before she knew it they were getting a running start and then they were in the air, wings beating to gain altitude and speed! "Holy shit!" she screamed, hanging on for dear life. Buckbeak flew above the castle and out over the lake, and Hazel leaned over to see her reflection in the rippling water. "This is amazing!"

It squawked in reply, and she thought it sounded pleased. Just to test herself she held on even tighter with her legs, and let go with her hands, leaning back as the wind pushed at her. "I LOVE FLYING!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. She'd never flown this way before! Never mind that a broom was smoother and easier to hold onto; she felt her body shifting naturally to keep pace with Buckbeak, moving with it instead of against it. "Okay Buckbeak, we should head back!"

Obligingly it turned and banked back toward the paddock and the forest, and came in for a rough landing at a canter, wings flicking to reduce speed so its legs could take over again. "That was amazing!" she yelled as her classmates cheered. "But I still prefer brooms! No offense, Buckbeak."

"Yeah, well, don't blame you there," Charlie chuckled as he helped her down. The rest of the class had acquainted with the others in the herd, and she watched them nervously petting the proud beasts. What was there to be scared of? "Ruddy smart too- Oi! Parkinson, step off, quick!"

Pansy had been too absorbed in gossiping with Daphne Greengrass, and their hippogriff had started tossing its head in irritation. "You can't ignore them like that, gotta give them your full attention! Both of you back down and bow again, alright?" Hagrid was stepping in to mollify the beast, while Pansy and Daphne stared, but tried bowing again. It did not bow back, and Charlie waved for them to step back from the herd.

"Right then, it's about feeding time for them,'' Charlie decided when he noticed more of the beasts tossing their heads and growling. "Hagrid, if you would?" Hagrid nodded and took their chains in hand again, leading them back into the forests. "And for homework, two foot essays on respecting hippogriffs and treating them right! Next week we'll go over feeding and caring for them."

"Did you guys SEE that?!" Hazel gushed as they went back to the castle. "I was flying! On a hippogriff! It was amazing!"

"You say that like you've never flown before," Draco laughed.

"Not like that I haven't," she countered, stars still in her eyes. "So what's our next class?"

Notes:Don't get used to these double updates, with work picking up my writing will slow down proportionally. As always, thanks for reading, and I welcome your honest thoughts!

Chapter 11: New DefensesSummary:Hazel has her first class with Professor Lupin, but it doesn't quite go according to plan. Then again, nothing ever does, does it?

Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextThe next class was Potions. They were working on a Shrinking Solution, on which Snape had assigned them an essay over the summer; Hazel had heard others complain about how difficult it had been, but she hadn't found it especially challenging.

The potion itself wasn't any trouble either, even if she had Neville next to her. And when Snape turned Trevor into a tadpole at the end of class with their potion, she could only shake her head at the enormous relief on Neville's face. "You will return to sit with Weasley and Finnigan next week, Longbottom," Snape drawled, dribbling an antidote atop the squirming tadpole and restoring Trevor's proper form. "You need to learn for yourself."

Since lunch was next, Hazel and Draco hung back while the rest of the class walked out. "Sir, can you test our mental defenses again?"

"Certainly." He made space with a flick of his wand, and gestured for her to stand before him. "Are you ready, then?" She nodded, and he brandished his wand- "Legilimens!"

She felt his presence, and focused on projecting a blank white nothingness for him to get lost in. Fog, fog, she thought, relying on memories of a blank TV screen and the white noise it made…

"You have made considerable progress, Miss Potter." He lowered his wand and withdrew from her mind. "From now on I want you to visualize a more defined and hardened space within your mind, something that represents your memories and feelings."

"What do you mean, sir? Like a library, or a Muggle bank?"

"Quite so. Organize your mind, fortify it, and not only will your defenses improve, your powers of memory and recall will as well. Now for you, Malfoy." They did the same thing, and Snape looked thoughtful as he lowered his wand again. "Hm. Continue as you were, and we shall resume our meetings on Monday and Thursday. We need not worry about curfew any more, either."

"Don't we still have to be back by 10pm, sir?" Draco asked.

"You do, however the school is not under threat this year as it was last year, and now that you are in your third year, you have more leeway than before." His gaze flicked to the clock. "Be off with you both, lunch will not wait."

After lunch, it was finally time for their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson with Professor Lupin. Everyone who had already taken his class had nothing but positive things to say, especially the Gryffindors. But that wasn't a surprise, as he'd been one himself. Hazel was first in line, and took a seat near the front of the class when the door opened.

"Good afternoon," came Lupin's voice, and he entered the room from a side chamber. He looked much better, as if he'd eaten a few hearty meals. "No need for those books today. I've a practical lesson planned." He ignored their confusion and took roll, and then looked up. "Right then, all present. Wands out, leave your bags in your seats, and follow me."

Curious and eager to prove herself, Hazel drew her wand from its holster and followed him out the door. He led them around the corner, but the way was blocked by Peeves, who was floating upside down and stuffing chewing gum into a keyhole. "Filch is on his way, Peeves, I'd clean that up if I were you."

"Loony Lupin!" the poltergeist sang, flipping upside down and blowing a raspberry at them all. "Been a long time, Loony Loopy Lupin!"

"Right. Any of you care to have a go?" Lupin said pleasantly, stepping aside and gesturing them ahead.

"I'll do it," Hazel declared. She'd never gotten him back for flipping her skirts up in first year, she reckoned. She twirled her wand and said "Waddiwasi!" and the chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and up Peeves' nose. Cursing at them all he flipped upright and zoomed out of sight.

"Well done, Hazel, ten points to Slytherin," Lupin said with a smile. "Where'd you learn that spell, by the way?"

"Spent the summer with the Weasleys," she explained, smirking. "Fred and George, you see."

"Quite." He gestured them forward once more, turning another corner and stopping before what Hazel knew was the staff room. Inside, there was only Professor Snape, who looked up with a leer. "Ah, Professor Snape. Would you care to observe?" Lupin asked politely.

"No, I don't think so." Snape stood, and his eyes glittered nastily at the Gryffindors in the class. "I can see myself out." Lupin bowed, and the students stepped aside to let him through. "Fair warning, Professor Lupin… this class contains Neville Longbottom. Take care with anything fragile."

Neville went red and Hazel scowled, but Lupin only raised an eyebrow. "The only thing fragile in this room is your ego, Severus," he replied in a low voice. "I am quite certain Neville will perform admirably as he assists me in demonstrating for the rest of the class." Snape merely sneered deeper at that, and shut the door with a snap as he left the room.

The other snakes didn't appreciate their Head being dismissed so, but Lupin paid them no heed. "Anyway! If I could direct your attention to the back of the room, please." The only thing back there was an old wardrobe, but as they gathered around it, it wobbled and banged off the wall. Several students leaned back, but Lupin shook his head. "Nothing to fear, it's just a boggart. Can anyo- yes, Hermione?"

Hermione's hand had shot up before he could finish asking the question. "Boggarts are shape shifters!" she explained breathlessly. "They take the form of whatever will frighten you the most! They like dark places like wardrobes and the spaces beneath beds and-"

"Quite so, but take it easy," Lupin cut in with a laugh. "Can anyone else take a guess what they're weak to?"

Hazel raised her hand, and he nodded to her. "There's a lot of us, so it'll be confused if we gang up on it. And… and if it wants to frighten us… if we laugh at it instead, it'll be even more confused?"

"Correct again, another ten points for each of your houses. It is always best to tackle a boggart in groups, because what scares one person may amuse or merely annoy another. However, even if you are alone, there is a simple spell. Simple, yet it requires force of will behind it, because, as Hazel put it, laughter will defeat a boggart." He raised his wand at the wardrobe and said "Riddikulus!"

The wardrobe shook even harder, and the students tried the spell for themselves. "One more time, Riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!" everyone yelled at once.

"Good. Now, one by one, I want each of you to approach the wardrobe. Consider what scares you the most, and then think of how you would render that thing humorous. Neville, can we start with you?" Neville gulped, but stepped forward. "Alright Neville, what scares you the most?"

Neville mumbled something indistinct. "What was that again, Neville?" Lupin said encouragingly.

"B-B-Bellatrix Lestrange," he whispered, his face now very pale.

"Ah…" Lupin seemed uncertain now. "Well, maybe we should-"

"N-No!" Neville shouted with sudden ferocity, shooting a glance over his shoulder at some snickering Slytherins. "No, I can do this, I can face her!"

"Her boggart, Neville, not Bellatrix herself," Lupin corrected gently. "So. You fear Bellatrix Lestrange. How would you defeat her in battle?"

"Um, the- the Dancing Feet Spell?" he replied, clearly having blurted out the first spell to come to mind. The snickering got a little more aggressive, and even Hazel couldn't help but sigh.

"Not a bad thought at all, Neville," Lupin said bracingly, and the snickering died. "With that in mind, are you ready?" Neville was pale again, but he raised his wand and nodded. "Very well, everyone back up a bit more, and on three… one, two, THREE!"

He flicked his wand at the wardrobe and leaped aside. The door creaked open…

…a tall, thin witch with flyaway black hair stepped out, grinning madly, holding a dark and crooked wand up to her own temple. She wore a ragged old prison uniform, but judging by the way half the class yelped and jumped back, Hazel figured none of them had noticed that much. She stood her ground, staring at this feared killer; it was immediately apparent that she was related to Sirius, quite closely in fact.

"Little Neville," the boggart crooned in Bellatrix's voice, which was cracked and high pitched. "Come to face your fate at last, hm? Come to face your fears?" She giggled and skipped closer, and Neville took an involuntary step back. "Ooh, I know! You're here to join your parents! Aren't you, little Neville Longbottom?!" She raised her wand, but Neville was faster.

"Tarantallegra!" he shouted, flicking his wand; there was a flash of purple light and the boggart fell backward, legs kicking out uncontrollably. "You don't talk about my parents, you bitch! RIDDIKULUS!" There was a crack like a whip; chains appeared from nowhere and bound her tightly, and her voice rose like she'd inhaled a mouthful of helium!

"Well done, Neville, twenty points to Gryffindor!" Lupin cried, waving him back. "Now, who's next?"

Ron stumbled forward, muttering something about legs falling off; the boggart whirled in midair and became a huge black spider, but he shouted the spell and all its legs fell off, leaving it to roll helplessly back and forth. Ron stepped back, hardly able to breathe for laughing, and the next student stepped up.

Hazel could hardly focus on the dizzying montage of monsters before her, as she wracked her brains trying to decide what she was actually afraid of most. Voldemort? No, she'd faced him three times now and was still standing. The burning effigy of Professor Quirrell in his last moments? No… Uncle Vernon, maybe, belt out and racist diatribe at the ready?

"Bring it on, you porky fuck," she muttered, staring at Draco's back in front of her.

Draco's boggart took the form of his own father, who ranted about pureblood crap while berating his son for being a disgrace, but Draco cast the spell and the boggart tripped on outdated and hugely garish robes, and then it was Hazel's turn…

At the last second, though, she remembered a ragged black cloak; a long, sucking breath; a vicious chill and ghostly voices… Oh god, no…

The boggart stared up at her, confusion on Lucius' face, until a huge, black form in a vast cloak appeared instead, and gray, damp, scabby hands reached for her as the creature drew in a long, rattling breath…

Before she could raise her wand, or even think of any spell, her world was swallowed by darkness… somewhere close by, a woman was screaming…

"Not Hazel! Please, not Hazel, kill me instead!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl."

"Take me instead! Not her, not Hazel!"

Abruptly the darkness receded, and a silvery light flickered; she realized she had fallen over, and opened her eyes as Lupin forced a hazy glowing ball back into the wardrobe. "What the hell…"

"That," Lupin grunted as he slammed the door and sealed it, "was a Dementor." He turned back to the class. "Is everyone alright? No one else passed out?" No one apparently had, though they were all pale and shaken, and Lupin offered a hand to help Hazel up. "Well, it's a bit early yet, but I think we can call it for the day right here, hm? Everyone have a bit of chocolate!"

He waved his wand, and several Honeydukes chocolate bars flew out of his bag, unwrapped themselves and broke apart, and those pieces flew to every student. Hazel took hers and stuffed it into her mouth, and felt better immediately. "If you wish to rest until the bell, feel free to do so, otherwise, homework for next week is three feet of parchment on boggarts and how to safely deal with them," Lupin went on, facing the rest of the class.

Hazel remained where she was for a moment, then went and sat down at her desk. "We saw Dementors last year, sir, when they came for Gilderoy Lockhart," she told Lupin.

"Yes, I'd heard about that," Lupin replied, likewise sitting down. "But just to refresh everyone's memory, a Dementor is one of the darkest and most vile creatures imaginable," he explained to the class at large. "They infest the darkest and filthiest places, they bring despair and decay everywhere they go, they feed on everything that makes life worth living; hope, peace, happiness…" His voice trailed off, then he drew a deep breath and let it out all at once. "They literally feed on happiness, and if you get too close for too long, there won't be anything left but darkness in you. Nothing but the worst experiences of your life, an empty and soulless shell."

"That's horrible." Part of her never wanted to go near one of those awful things again, another part wanted to learn more magic to fight them off… a third part thought it would be a good idea to stay under longer, next time, so she could hear more of what had happened years ago. "That wasn't even a real Dementor and it affected me so strongly…"

"Well, Dumbledore has made it quite plain that Dementors are not allowed on Hogwarts grounds, barring extraordinary circumstances, so I doubt you'd have to worry about meeting a real Dementor any time soon," Lupin replied, smiling.

"Was it extraordinary circumstances when they came in last year?" Hazel retorted immediately. "I'd like to learn how to counteract them anyway," she went on, a little harshly. "I can't afford to simply fall all over myself like that, not when You-Know-Who is still out there!"

"Call him Voldemort, Hazel," he replied mildly. "Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself."

"I know that, I just get tired of people getting all jumpy at the mention of him!" Though she had to admit, to herself, that her opinion of Lupin rose slightly at that.

"No need to raise your voice," he said a little sharply. "Give me time to settle in and work through the start of term, and I'll try and teach you a spell called the Patronus Charm next month."

Patronus Charm, she noted. "Alright." In the meantime, she was determined to find a book on it and study as much as she could. "I should get going, that was an interesting lesson, Professor." He nodded in reply, and she turned to gather her things and leave the room.

Her friends were waiting, of course. "What was he thinking, putting us up against a boggart of all things?" Millicent griped. "That stuff's personal!"

"Right?" Ron agreed. "Well, not like I ever made it much of a secret, me being scared of spiders."

"Are you alright, Draco?" Blaise murmured, putting a hand on Draco's shoulder.

"Huh? No. Yes. No." Draco had been lost in dark thoughts, and shook himself at the sudden touch. "I'm- I'll be fine, really, I just…"

"I don't blame you for being scared of that man," Hermione sniffed. Her boggart had been Professor McGonagall, brandishing a sheaf of papers all with bright red Ts marked on them, and the Riddikulus spell had turned them into Os. "Hazel?"

"I'll be okay," she replied automatically. "I'm just glad there weren't any Hufflepuffs in that class with us."

Notes:Quite glad to update on time this week, lol. Let me know what you guys think so far!

Chapter 12: The Fearless OnesSummary:Hazel and her lion friends get a great idea, but before they can see it through...

Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextHazel needn't have worried too much about it, though. Having everyone's deepest fears brought out made it hard to single out any one student for mockery, and while Crabbe and Goyle did their thuggish best to poke at her for passing out, it was easy enough to shut them down by imitating a mummy and grunting like a mountain troll in return. And since she'd been toe-to-toe with a mountain troll before, her impression of one was quite good indeed.

Muggle Studies was going to be an interesting class, she realized the second she walked in and saw the pretty young Charity Burbage standing there waiting for them. She had a lovely, lilting voice, and more importantly, she didn't overreact at the sight of the famous Hazel Potter.

After taking roll, she stood at the front of the classroom. "Good afternoon, everyone. I am Professor Burbage," and she curtsied to them all, "and I am so excited to welcome you to Muggle Studies. Many consider it a soft option, but let me assure you it is not. What I have to teach is in fact a vital and essential subject!"

Hazel was ready to take notes, but Professor Burbage's voice was just so lovely and Irish, it was hard to focus. "What I will show you over the next three and hopefully five years will be the differences between Wizard and Muggle culture, and more importantly, how to blend in with Muggles; I will rely on our Muggle-raised students to lend a hand, of course, but everyone will have a part to play."

A few purebloods snickered in the back of the class, but they were ignored. "We will also review the many laws of secrecy and discretion that govern how we must interact with Muggles, such as the International Statute of Secrecy. In later years we will also discuss egregious breaches of the Statute, how wizardkind as a whole was put in danger by these breaches, and the punishments that may be doled out by the presiding governments. And make no mistake: the punishments for such a breach are among the harshest imaginable. Here in Britain, a lifetime sentence to Azkaban is not out of the question."

Hazel had heard that name before, but Padma was raising her hand. "Professor? What's so bad about Azkaban?" she asked.

"It is guarded by Dementors," Professor Burbage replied simply. Quite a few students winced, and Padma turned very pale; the snickering from the back of the room stopped abruptly. "You understand, I see. Very good, no one wants to talk about Dementors." She waved her wand and the windows opened, curtains fluttering to allow sunlight and fresh air in. "For now, however, we shall limit our study to the ways Muggles manage without magic. If anything is unclear, or if you have something to add, please do not hesitate to speak up. There are no stupid questions here, and I'm not so proud as to claim to know everything about Muggles!"

From there they discussed how Muggles moved things around, how they kept entertained, and Hazel was glad to contribute with descriptions of trucks and movie theaters and computer systems. It was a very enjoyable class, and not just because of the teacher, either.

Finally, Charms rounded out the day, where Flitwick lectured them on the theory behind casting simple charms on heavier or more complex objects, or on multiple objects at once. Hazel figured this would be the soft option of the year for her; she seemed to have a knack for Charms, even over the rest of her classes. But that didn't stop her from taking notes, or participating in the practical demonstrations when Flitwick called for a volunteer.

Astronomy, as usual, took place late at night, with Professor Sinistra walking them through the basics of making star charts. Hazel had her flask of coffee like always, and thought she had a decent start on her own chart, but it was hard to tell; every time she looked through the lens, new stellar objects seemingly appeared. And of course there was Herbology throughout the week, where the cheerful Professor Sprout walked them through caring for the various plants on offer. Hazel had no qualms about letting Neville take the lead here; he'd definitely earned it, to her.

One evening after dinner, she went down to speak with Professor Sprout again. "Professor? Professor Sprout?" she called, knocking on the door to her office. A few moments went by and no one seemed to hear her, so she shrugged and turned to head back to the castle. She ran into the Professor just around the corner, though. "Oh, Professor, there you are!"

"Ah, Potter? Be a dear and give me a hand, would you?" She was moving bags of fertilizer from a shipment that had apparently just come in. "No need for magic, they're not that heavy and it won't do to let the body wither! The stack is over there, if you would."

"Yes ma'am." Dragging fertilizer around hadn't been in her plan, but she held her breath and started lugging them two at a time, moving them to each greenhouse in turn.

"Just pile them outside," the Professor called, dumping her own load, "some of these plants are beyond your expertise just yet."

Between the two of them they soon had the fertilizer distributed, and Sprout wiped her forehead. "Thank you so much, Potter, thirty points to Slytherin," she said warmly. "I presume you had some question or other?"

"I did, ma'am. I was visiting a friend's house over the summer and she had these, well, I guess they were stumps? But I got too close and all these thorny vines erupted all over the place, I barely dodged back."

"Snargaluff," the Professor said immediately, nodding decisively. "Their pods are harvested and then broken open for the little tubers inside. And you evaded their vines, you say?"

"Yeah. If I hadn't been training so hard I doubt I could've, they were fast!" She grinned a bit. "So how can you deal with them if you do get caught, then?"

"Hmm." Sprout thought about it for a moment. "A Stunner will knock it senseless for a few moments, and a Severing Charm would slice the vines if you're in a hurry." She gave a nasty chuckle and shook her head. "If you ever find yourself dueling in someone's garden, feel free to knock your opponent into one if you see them, they're quite the unexpected trap!"

"I can see that, thank you ma'am." It was getting late, she reckoned while looking up. "Well, thanks for your time, Professor, but I should get back."

Before she knew it, it was Friday afternoon, and even her brand new bag seemed to strain under the mass of books and papers she had. She did as much homework as she could, wanting the weekend to herself; she had to meet up with Professor Vector about abacuses, then head to the library to study the Patronus Charm, and if time allowed corner Fred and George about a training regimen. "What the hell did I get myself into," she mumbled, shuffling books during the usual study session.

"Don't look at us!" Ron replied indignantly. "We're all taking a normal amount of classes, like regular people!"

"Speak for yourself," Padma Patil said, rolling her eyes.

That night she barely got her homework done before midnight, and dragged herself to her dorm. Her routine went by quickly, even if she didn't have the energy to admire herself in the mirror like she usually did. Though before bed, she recalled Snape's words about Occlumency, and decided to try it out; as she slipped into the meditative state of mind, she tried envisioning the ordered chaos of Gringotts, its massive vault doors and efficient goblins, the aura of mystery and wealth that always surrounded it…

When she woke up in the morning, she had no idea if it had worked or not. But she couldn't remember any odd dreams, so she did her morning things and set off to breakfast. After eating she washed up and went for Professor Vector's classroom; the Professor was happy to see her, and happier still to explain how to use an abacus. And even though she was good at math already, she could tell that the Professor had been right before; there was no way she could have picked up on this during a school day.

"Practice over the weekend, of course," the older woman said with a smile as she handed the abacus to Hazel, a few hours later "and when class resumes we can do something more practical. Does that sound good?"

"Yes ma'am." She took the abacus and put it in her bag, and proceeded to get lunch. That really had taken a while! She ate quickly and proceeded to the library. "Madam Pince?"

"Yes?" the pinch-faced librarian replied, walking over to her.

"Um, I heard about this spell in one of my classes, but I don't think it's on the curriculum; the Patronus Charm?"

"Someone's been eavesdropping on Professor Lupin, hm?" Madam Pince turned and went off into the stacks, though, returning with a mid-sized spell book that seemed rather old. "I can't let you check this out, Potter, but you can read it at a table."

"Thank you, ma'am." Hazel took the book and sat down, opening it to a random page.

Hours later her head was pounding, and the minutely printed words swam before her eyes. She'd learned the incantation and the wand movements, buried under a lot of fluff about how the spell was only for strong and pure-hearted wizards, how it could be incredibly draining even for experienced users, and how the Patronus took the form of an animal once the caster had mastered it to some degree. Dimly she wondered what her Patronus would look like, but mostly she just wanted to yawn and go to sleep…

No. She forced herself upright and went through her Occlumency, willing herself to stay awake. "So much for Fred and George," she muttered, going back to leafing through the book. "Why does advanced magic suck so hard?"

"Why indeed, little snake?" came a familiar voice, and she looked up to the twins' grinning faces.

"Alright, guys?" she replied with a yawn, leaning back from the table to stretch upward. "I feel like my head's about to explode…"

"What're you reading, anyway?" and George pulled the book to him. "Patronus Charm?"

"Ahh, because of that Dementor boggart?" Fred replied. "Dementart? Demogart?"

"You've heard of it?" she replied, lowering her voice when Madam Pince came sweeping around.

"Yeah, it's a legendary Light spell, supposedly the only thing that can repel Dementors," George explained, likewise lowering his voice. At least until the librarian was out of range again.

Light, Dark, whatever. Hazel didn't have time for semantics. "Lupin said he'd teach it to me, but not until October. I thought I'd learn it by myself, but…" She gestured at the book and sighed. "That shit's way beyond even me."

Fred slid the book back. "Probably smart. But that's not why we're here."

"No, we're here with good news," and George grinned. "Sunday's free for us, so we can meet up after lunch and do whatever you want!"

"Oh, brilliant!" A wide grin split her face. "Since it's Sunday we can pick any empty classroom, really, I know just what we'll do!"

"Push-ups off the wall?"

"Use our brooms for a pull up bar or a barbell?"

"Stretching and jogging and shit like that?"

"Summon some mats and do some sparring?"

"All that and more," she countered, her grin widening. "We're gonna practice dueling, boys. Maybe I'll ask Dumbledore if we can restart that Dueling Club the ponce tried."

"So what do we need all that other stuff for, if we're gonna be dueling?" Fred replied with a chuckle.

"Real dueling is intense, Hazel, you aren't just standing there. You gotta dodge, and weave, and have your spells at your fingertips…"

"Right, and don't you think being in good shape will help with that?" she insisted. "Come on, you guys are Beaters, don't tell me you don't know the value of staying in shape instead of relying on your magic like everyone else."

"Alright, alright." Fred shook his head, but he had a smile on his face all the same. "Look at us, bro, consorting with the enemy, what WILL they say about us next?"

"Is it really so weird to have friends in other Houses?" Hazel asked, cocking her head to one side.

"For the others, no, but typically Gryffindor and Slytherin are supposed to hate each other," George explained. "But there's prats in every House, as our very own Percy can prove, and there's cool people in every House too, just like you show."

The suggestion that Fred and George thought she was cool made her face heat up, and she looked away to try and hide it. "I… I don't know what to say, guys."

George reached over and patted her hand. "Don't worry, we'll show you how to be a ruthless prankster before we graduate," he said reassuringly. "There's a mystique to being a Slytherin, see."

"And you think a Gryffindor is the best tutor for that?" Hazel cut in. "I'll take your pranking lessons, but I think I've already figured out how to be the best Slytherin by myself." If a literal, proven Heir of Slytherin wasn't the best Slytherin, she had no idea who was. "Anyway, I should take off. Good talking, boys." She put the book back and left the library, seeing her bed in her mind's eye.

She did homework until it was time for lights out, then went to her dorm for her nightly routine. Her dormmates were already in bed, except for Pansy Parkinson, but she didn't care much about that one, pureblood fanatic that she was. She was especially vicious during her brief workout, knowing that tomorrow she'd have to push herself even more, and she did her best to force her mind into order with Occlumency before dropping off to sleep.

In the morning she got dressed and went to eat, loading up on heavy stuff like eggs and meat so she'd have the energy to keep up through the day. Afterward she did the last of the week's homework in her common room, and went out for a run and a flight to warm up. That was her plan, anyway, until she ran into Luna. Which of course derailed everything, as Luna wanted to hold hands and sit beneath a tree and tell her all about the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, which sounded like some kind of rhinoceros-like beast to Hazel, but she didn't have the heart to say anything.

And of course, it was lunch time before she knew what was happening. "Oh no, I've got to go," and she reluctantly pulled her hand away and stood up, "I said I'd meet with Fred and George Weasley after lunch to practice dueling."

"Oh, can I come?" and Luna stood up too. "I love extracurricular activities."

Hazel didn't know how to tell her no, plus if she came along they could hold hands longer. So they walked back to the castle and ate quickly, and the twins intercepted them. "Ready, guys?"

"Ready for what?" Draco asked, likewise coming over. "We had a study group yesterday, didn't we?"

"This is dueling, Malfoy," Fred replied before Hazel could shush them all up. "We're gonna get all sweaty and shit. Nothing a little swot like you would want to be a part of."

"Dueling? Like that club from last year?" and here came Ron and Hermione, with Ginny trailing behind. "Sounds like fun! Where we going?"

Hazel had only planned for herself and the twins; the more people were involved, the more time they'd have to waste going over the basics, and she didn't want to waste any time. But Fred and George were happy to have more people along, and before she knew it, the whole study group was trailing along behind them as the twins led the way to an empty hall they knew of.

"Is this a good idea, having so many people with us?" Hazel asked in a low voice.

"We're actually safer this way, Hazel, if any professors catch us we can say we're doing a practical study group," Fred explained.

"That's great and all, but I was hoping for something a bit more private," she retorted. "We're gonna have to waste time getting everyone else up to speed!"

"Take it easy, Hazel," George replied reassuringly, "it'll help you too, to go over the basics."

As predicted, the hall they chose was quite empty, and large enough to accommodate all of them. Fred and George conjured the necessary gear, some of which made Draco uneasy. "I thought we were practicing dueling?" he asked, eying the mats and workout gear with distaste.

"We are, Malfoy, Muggle dueling." Fred finished his preparations and faced the group. "And yes, I know it's against the rules here at Hogwarts, but listen! In the real world, duels are messy, and if you stick to rules and formalities you're gonna wind up knocked out or dead!"

"Or worse," George chuckled. "Besides, Shield Charms are great and all, but every spell drains you just a bit, so if you can dodge and get closer to your opponent, so much the better."

"Wouldn't that put us at risk too?" Ron asked.

"Maybe, but how many wizards can keep their cool when someone's all up in their faces?" Fred replied. "Quidditch players, maybe, or Muggle-borns, but not many others." Draco looked offended, but he didn't retort or try to leave. "Right then, everyone out of your robes, this is gonna get a bit sweaty."

Hazel wasted no time shrugging out of the heavy outer cloak, and her sweater as well. Her and the twins helped the others warm up, with basic stretches and the like, then they went through footwork and dodging.

As she had figured, the Quidditch players had no issue with this part, being used to physical endeavors. The Muggle-born witches and wizards didn't complain much either, and of course that left the purebloods to mutter and whine; even Ron had some dark things to say under his breath while glaring at the twins, and he'd been doing Quidditch for years just like them.

Only then did they start going over basic dueling spells, like Disarming and the Impediment Jinx. The purebloods finally saw the point of all the sweating and prancing before, when their opponents evaded their spells and countered too fast for them to reply properly. "That's cheating! Proper duels don't have all this dancing around!" Draco yelled as Hazel ducked his Disarming Charm for the third time.

"Yeah well, the real world doesn't follow rules, does it? Expelliarmus!" Hazel retorted, and she couldn't help but laugh when Draco's wand flew from his hands. "Cheer up, Draco, you'll get the hang of it eventually."

Eventually there was a knock on the door, and Professor McGonagall stepped inside. "What's going on in here?" she demanded, and everyone stopped what they were doing immediately. "Did any of you get permission for these duels?"

"No ma'am, we forgot," Fred replied promptly. "We'd been in our study group, see, and George thought it'd be a good idea to demonstrate more directly, and…"

"Oh sure, pin it on me," George griped, "as if we don't do everything together anyway!"

"Your demonstration must have been quite strenuous, considering everyone is out of uniform and perspiring," McGonagall noted, the corners of her mouth drawing a little less thin.

"It really was, ma'am," Hazel piped up. "It's partly my fault as well, Fred and George had the idea and I pushed everyone to go along, none of us even stopped to think about getting permission since we'd been meeting up for two years already."

"Hm." McGonagall eyed the rest of the group, who managed to look appropriately abashed and worried. "I can hardly fault an overzealous thirst for knowledge, but for tonight I must insist you all put your cloaks back on and return to your common rooms."

Everyone rushed to get ready and leave again, even Hazel. Though she paused on the way out. "Ma'am, could you put in a word with Professor Dumbledore about reforming the Dueling Club? I feel like we could get a lot out of it, as long as we've got competent instructors."

"I will speak to the Headmaster about your concerns, Miss Potter." The last of the study group slipped out the door, and McGonagall gestured ahead. "To your common room now."

Hazel nodded and slipped away herself, noting that it was already getting pretty late. Where had the time gone? She hurried to her dorm, did her nightly things and got into bed, for once dreading the week to come.

Notes:If you leave a comment (and I read them all even if I don't always reply), do let me know how you found me and my scribblings. I'm hardly the most popular author on AO3 after all.

Chapter 13: Curses & PatronusesSummary:The learning never stops, not when Hazel Potter is involved. Though sometimes she might wish it would...

Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter TextThe second week went by in a blur, a slow-moving blur of homework, figures, potion fumes and headaches. Every evening she did her own homework, and with Padma and Hermione helped the others with theirs at their study group. Twice a week she and Draco met with Professor Snape for Occlumency tutoring, which was one area she was confident in.

"Miss Potter, you are at a point where we need not convene so often any longer," he told her that Thursday. "Continue your efforts, however. The mind's walls can degrade without maintenance. Mr Malfoy, we will continue meeting twice a week as usual, and Potter can join us on Thursdays."

"Are you sure, Professor?" Hazel blurted out without thinking, before trying not to cringe back as that familiar sneer curled Snape's lip.

"Surely you aren't questioning my decision, Potter."

"N-No sir! It's just…" She needed a moment to flail about for a likely set of words. "...if I'm getting better, shouldn't we meet up more often? So that you can push me harder? Or, or something like that?"

Draco snickered quietly, and Snape ignored him. "If you wish to come here more often, Potter, on top of everything else you have going on, we could certainly arrange it," he went on idly. "One would think, though, that with twelve classes, a club to run, and Quidditch season coming up, you'd want less to do."

"W-Well…" His next words took a second to sink in, and she could only stare up at him. "...what do you mean, club to run…?"

"Did I say that?" He glanced pointedly at the clock on the wall. "Our time is over, both of you return to your dorms." He returned to his desk, leaving Hazel and Draco to gather their things and leave his classroom.

"You heard what he said, right?" Hazel said as they walked to the Slytherin common room. "About the club?"

"Yeah, I heard him." Draco looked excited, even through the headache. "How are we gonna make time? How are you gonna make time?"

"Oh, it hasn't been so bad," she replied with a shrug. Which was only half a lie; she was stressed, sure, but enjoying herself all the same.

Later in the week, when Hazel felt as if her head would burst from all the facts and spells she was trying to stuff into it, it was time for Quidditch tryouts. Since she was already Seeker, Flint had her try for Chaser and Keeper, and she made the cut in both positions thanks to her Firebolt. Millicent easily came back as a Beater and put on a decent show for Keeper, as well, and Draco and Blaise both excelled as Chasers and Seekers. A slew of trainees from the previous year also made the cut, which Flint was quite pleased about.

"Alright, settle down, gather 'round," he called, waving everyone in. "We're gonna have our first full-team practice this Saturday, got it? And then we'll do practices three nights a week, Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays! We've got an amazing team and one of the best Seekers in the country, and Snape told me he's gotten used to seeing that Quidditch Cup in his office these past few years, so let's not let him down!" The team cheered, and though Hazel wanted to get back inside so she could do her homework, she had to stay behind at least a while so people could try the Firebolt.

"Yeah, no, that thing's too fast," Millicent declared after she had her turn. "You see how it nearly threw me off? It's the Nimbus for me!" and she grabbed her trusty Nimbus 2001 and walked back to the castle.

"It didn't throw her off, she just tried stopping too sharply," Draco muttered, and Hazel rolled her eyes.

Finally she managed to escape back to her dorm, where she did homework until it was nearly time for bed. But as tired as she was, she didn't let herself skip any steps of her routine; it was too important for her sanity, her health and her future.

Despite her Occlumency she had strange dreams of her teachers and the things she was learning, of Potions accidents and Charms mishaps, none of which had anything to do with what had happened. She was glad the weekend was almost here, even though habit wouldn't let her sleep in much.

Friday after classes she went to see Professor Lupin. "Professor?" she called, knocking on his door.

"Ah, Hazel." He smiled at her as he crossed the room, and she saw he was looking better than before. "Did you have a question about this week's assignments?"

"No sir." Red caps were easy enough, she thought. "I was actually curious when you'd be able to show me the Patronus Charm? I tried reading up on it from a book, but…"

"But it was a little outside your talents at the moment?" He seemed amused more than anything. "What did you learn from the book, then?"

"The wand movements and the incantation," she recited, "and also that you have to be pure of heart or something? And supposedly it's very draining, too."

"All correct, but to cast it properly you have to have a very strong positive memory to draw happiness from," he explained, waving his wand to clear space in the classroom.

"But… but with a Dementor sucking all the happiness out of you, wouldn't that be really hard to do?"

"Very good, ten points to Slytherin." He gestured for her to stand beside him. "Now, do as I do… Expecto Patronum!" He twirled his wand and a burst of silver fog erupted from it, lighting up the room with its pale glow.

"Expecto Patronum!" Hazel repeated, twirling her wand as well, but nothing happened. "Huh?"

"Remember, find a happy memory to focus on," Lupin explained.

"Oh, right." She thought hard, and instantly recalled the first time she'd ever flown on a broom, the thrill and the rush of it. "Expecto Patronum!" This time a thin silvery wisp flew from her wand, though a sharp burning in her chest cut it off, and she clutched at herself with a gasp. "Oh… that hurt…"

"That was your core, Hazel," he said, steering her to a desk to sit down. "You said yourself it's a very draining spell, did you not? Here." He gave her another piece of his apparently endless supply of chocolate, and she bit into it.

"What is a magical core, anyway?" she asked. "I keep hearing about them, and about how mine must be sealed off or something."

"It is, quite simply, the wellspring of magical power that every witch and wizard has within them," Lupin said, sitting down next to her and breaking off a piece for himself. "There are various ways of measuring them, though it is usually clear when one has a stronger core than one's friends. And seals or blocks are quite common on school-age witches and wizards as well; it keeps their magic contained until they are of an age where they can control it for themselves."

He gave her a speculative look. "I rather suspect that your core was quite bright when you were born, Hazel. Your parents had only the best intentions when they requested the block on your magic, but don't worry; you've probably felt it lifting slightly here and there? A thrumming and a heat in your chest when casting spells?"

She thought back, and realized she could indeed remember such moments. "When I first got my wand," she mused, half to herself. "When I faced off with Quirrell, and against Justin… and when I fought off Voldemort…"

"There you are, then," and he nodded. "What you felt just now was your core trying to put out more magic than the seal currently allows for. Nothing more or less."

She wondered if that was supposed to be reassuring. "So does that mean I can't cast the spell yet? I'm not sure it's a good idea to run around trying to lift it myself…"

"Indeed not." He patted her shoulder and stood up. "Try again a few more times, and if nothing more substantial happens we'll call it a day and meet back up next weekend?"

"Alright." She stood up again and gripped her wand, facing forward. Twice more she tried casting the spell, and both times her chest burned so much she winced and lost it; on the third attempt she managed to hold out against the pain and keep up the vague silver wisp, until her legs gave out and she fell to the floor. "Ugh…"

"That's enough," Lupin said firmly, putting out a hand to help her up. "You're going to hurt yourself if you keep this up." He brought out a vial of thin green potion. "Take some Wiggenweld, then go back to your dorm for the day."

"Yes sir." She popped the top and downed the fluid, felt her core recharge and her exhaustion abate. "As much homework as I have, and with Quidditch starting up…"

"Exactly. And Hazel, you might be feeling better now, but please don't practice the Patronus Charm without supervision, alright? You'll hurt yourself worse than any potion can restore if you push yourself too far."

"Yes sir," she said again. "Thank you for the lesson, Professor." She got her stuff and left the room, thinking about what had just happened. A very uncharacteristic feeling of rebellion rose up, and she found herself wanting to practice the spell some more, with or without supervision. She could brew her own Wiggenweld potion, couldn't she? It'd be just fine as long as she didn't overdo it, right?

She had to think it through for a moment. What was she rebelling against? Being told what to do? Or was it Lupin's condescending attitude? Disobeying a Professor's direct orders wouldn't be any good, would it?

Then she thought over what his exact words had been. "Please don't…" Not really an order, was it? She was certain she could pace herself against exhaustion as well; the feeling of being drained and helpless was definitely not one she wanted to repeat! So, brew some potion and proceed with caution! Rebellion thus rationalized she went on with a skip in her step, eager to get through the evening and face the weekend.

The next morning after breakfast she went to Snape's office. "Professor Snape?" she called, knocking on the door. The door creaked open, and she stepped inside. "Professor, could I do some potioning today?"

"I don't see why not," Snape replied. "You have Quidditch practice later, I believe?"

"Yes sir, but it's just Wiggenweld that I want to practice with," she replied innocently.

"Mm." He pointed to the classroom door and went back to his paperwork. "Mind you make extra for your fellow students."

For the dueling club, right. "I will, sir." She went to the classroom and busied herself brewing the Wiggenweld, making extra for the dueling club.

When she thought she had enough she returned to Snape's office. "Sir? Er, you said you'd show me the Unforgivables this year…"

"So I did." He seemed reluctant, but cleared his desk anyway and conjured a large black spider. "As you are already aware, there are three such curses: the Imperius, the Cruciatus, and the Killing Curses. Each requires, not only immense magical power, but true depth of hatred and a need to harm and control your enemies."

He pointed his wand at the spider and hissed a familiar incantation: "Imperio!" Instantly the spider rose up on its hindmost legs and danced back and forth across the desk, before doing flips and barrel rolls. "Perfect control, perfect submission," Snape explained, as the spider launched a long string of web at the ceiling and threw itself through the air to swing back and forth. "Your victim will do anything you demand of them. Wear themselves out with pointless frolicking, attack their friends… jump off a cliff, or into a cauldron."

He made the spider return to the desk. "It is extremely hard to spot if someone is under the Curse, but it can be spotted. They might exhibit odd habits or unfamiliar mannerisms, or if the caster acted quickly the victim may have clouded eyes and slurred speech. Of the three, this takes the most practice.

"Next, the Torture Curse." Again he pointed his wand, and his face contorted into a sneer like she'd never seen before. "Crucio!" Immediately the spider rolled on its back, rocking back and forth and flailing its mandibles helplessly. It couldn't scream, but she imagined the screams easily enough.

After a few moments he let off, and the spider sat there, twitching and shuddering. "Pain, Miss Potter, merciless and unending. That is the sole purpose of the Cruciatus Curse."

"That's what happened to Neville's parents," she muttered, staring wide-eyed at the exhausted spider. "He told me, he said they were tortured into insanity… by the Cruciatus…"

"And the four Death Eaters responsible were locked away in the deepest parts of Azkaban." He cleared his throat. "There is one more Unforgivable Curse, Miss Potter, but if you've had enough?"

It was sorely tempting, but the Killing Curse was the one she had to see above all. "No sir, please show me."

"Very well." He trained his wand on the spider again, and it tried to scuttle away, but it was too weak from its previous treatment; his face contorted into an expression of hatred and rage, and Hazel's heart leaped into her throat from anticipation.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" he shouted. A blinding flash of green light enveloped the spider, and an immense whooshing noise, as if something huge and invisible was soaring through the air; the spider rolled over immediately, dead beyond all doubt.

"Instant and unavoidable death, Miss Potter." He swept the dead spider to one side, and conjured two goblets of pumpkin juice. "No counter curse exists, no spell can block it. If you are fast enough you may be able to evade, or put physical objects between you and the spell, but in many cases such antics merely delay the inevitable." His dark gaze flicked to her forehead. "In all of recorded history, you are the only one to survive it, and no one knows why."

"That was how my parents died," she muttered, hands shaking as she gulped down the juice. "That was why I've had nightmares of green lights all my life…"

"And it is no doubt why you are so strongly affected by a Dementor's presence," he added. "Seeing your parents die, even if you cannot consciously recall, would leave an immense trauma."

"Why, though?" she asked, looking up at him. "Why did he target us, what did I do to him so long ago? What- what really happened that night?"

"No one knows for certain," he answered steadily, looking her in the eye. "Any who claim otherwise are liars and fools, even Dumbledore has nothing more than conjecture. Even if we did know more, that is not my story to tell; he has forbidden me to speak of it with you in more detail than we already have."

She couldn't tell if he was lying, and after a moment she nodded and drained her goblet. "I assume he gave you permission to show me this much."

"He did. Make no mistake, Miss Potter, I show you these so that you will not let your curiosity get away from you. You have seen the spells, you know what they do. To use any of them on a fellow human being will get you nothing but a life sentence to Azkaban."

On a fellow human being? She told herself to remember that loophole for later. "I doubt I could cast them right now anyway, what with that seal on my core."

"Perhaps not. The Killing Curse in particular needs immense power behind it, you could say the words against me right now and I wouldn't even get a nosebleed. And as skilled in Occlumency as I am, you could not affect me with the other two either; it would be simple to isolate from the pain, to block any attempt at control."

Part of her itched to call him out, to whip her wand out and dare him to prove his words. But her stomach growled and interrupted that train of thought. "This is fascinating, sir, but I should get to lunch. We've got practice tonight…"

"Indeed." He restored his paperwork and nodded at the door. "Good luck out there."

After that was lunch, and then Quidditch. The Firebolt outperformed itself as she zoomed around the pitch, and she easily caught the Snitch several times before Higgs could even catch it once. Flint had her run Chaser drills after that, and Hazel enjoyed the change of pace even if she wasn't as free to fly as fast as she could.

"Potter, come back down here and get on your Nimbus, Chasers have to stay in formation," Flint called up after the third time she shot ahead of the other two. She sighed but did as told, and though the black broom was slower, she was able to fly correctly.

Flint kept them late, and there was barely time to eat dinner before it disappeared. Afterward, Hazel went to the common room and did more homework, then retreated to her dorm to work out and practice her Muggle moves against the shadows. To shake things up she practiced Occlumency while sparring, then got a better idea that the dorm was too small for; could she cast spells while focusing on Occlumency and doing her sparring sets? She groaned and shook her head at herself, she had enough crap going on!

The next morning, after a pleasantly dreamless sleep, she got up to find a notice on the board proclaiming a new dueling club, run by students and supervised by Professors, and any interested students were to gather in the Great Hall after lunch. "After lunch??" Hazel muttered, trying not to panic. That wasn't enough time!

Most of the day was spent doing the last of the week's homework, and after a light lunch she stood back while Professor Flitwick banished the four tables and conjured an elevated stage with flicks of his wand. She looked around; the whole study group was here, and she was glad to see that the crowd wasn't as big as the one that had appeared for Lockhart's club last year.

"Is that everyone?" the tiny Professor called from atop the stage. "Very good! Now, some of you may remember the disaster that was last year's Dueling Club, yes?" There was a rumble of amusement and agreement. "Quite so! Well, we heard you wanted to try it again, and convinced Professor Dumbledore to reinstate the Club!"

His gaze found Hazel and he twinkled at her, and she grinned back. From that she deduced it hadn't been very hard to convince him.

"Now, as the flyers said, this will be mostly student driven! However, for today I will be on hand to supervise and make sure you take this seriously! To begin, we will review a few basic spells you should already have a handle on!" After that he led them through the Disarming Charm and the Shield Charm, both of which Hazel knew quite well by now.

Many others did not, however, especially the younger students. "Fear not, fear not!" Flitwick called out, noticing the distress of the students who couldn't cast the spells yet. "Those of you who are behind this, please join me in tutoring your fellow students! And don't worry if you can't catch on right away, that's what classes and regular club meetings are for!"

Hazel was happy enough to help out, and soon had a row of firsties and second-years under her instruction. "Watch me," she told them, holding her wand up. "Move your wand like so," and she traced the movements through the air. "And then say the incantation: Expelliarmus!" Draco's wand flew out of his hand; next to her the students tried the spell, and about half the students opposite them lost their wands. "There you go, well done! You lot get your wands back and try it now."

Seconds later Draco had disarmed her in turn, and half of the younger students had also managed it. They did that a few more times, then Flitwick showed them the Shield Charm again; the students had more trouble with this one, of course, so Hazel and Draco went through it again a few times. She saw Fred and George showing other students how it was done, and for once they seemed to take it seriously.

When it was nearly time for dinner, Hazel saw Professors Snape and McGonagall entering the Great Hall. "Ah, welcome!" Flitwick called, having noticed them as well. "You're just in time, Professors! Why don't you demonstrate some proper high-level dueling for the students?"

"High-level dueling, you say?" McGonagall replied curiously. "Oh, very well."

"You are the Dueling Champion among us, Filius," Snape noted, though he stepped up to the stage anyway.

"Yes, well, I wouldn't want to overwhelm them," the tiny professor said modestly. Snape and McGonagall moved to opposite ends of the stage and turned to face each other. The students gathered around, but at a respectful distance, eager to see a real duel take place. "And bow!" They both bowed gravely, and Hazel saw Snape was more respectful than he'd been to Lockhart. "First blood or disarm only! No maiming or killing!" Two terse nods.

"First blood?" Hazel muttered, surprised. She wasn't the only one, as the outburst of muttering and whispering could attest.

"Assume your combative stances!" Flitwick called; McGonagall raised her wand before her, a smile flickering at the edge of her mouth, while Snape brought his wand over his head, his other hand held before him. Hazel recalled Draco assuming a similar stance last year. The hall was dead silent, and Hazel thought she could see the air crackling around the two professors. "And on three! One... two… THREE!"

Jets of fire shot forth from McGonagall's wand, to be met by swift Shield Charms from Snape; the final jet of fire was repelled and brought to heel, sent back to its source as an immense shadowy snake! It too was blasted into smoke, and a swarm of daggers appeared from thin air to assail the Potions Master!

Hazel gasped, wondering if any Shield Charm could block those cruelly sharp shapes, but she wouldn't get to find out; Snape attempted to dodge them, moving and ducking from side to side, allowing them to impale into the wall behind him. He flicked his wand; a jet of red light shot forth and disarmed McGonagall! The duel was over!

"Look!" Draco gasped, pointing at Snape; his hand was at his face, and Hazel saw blood between his fingers. One last dagger had struck him while he was attacking; both Professors had lost in the same moment.

"Bravo!" Flitwick cried, and the Hall burst into applause. Snape and McGonagall bowed again and approached one another; Snape returned her wand, and McGonagall waved it to heal the cut in his face. There wasn't even a scar left. "That's how you duel for real, ladies and gentlemen! No prisoners, no holding back!"

Draco scoffed quietly. "But they were holding back, I'd bet you anything."

Notes:Expecto Patriarchy! ...wait, what? Expulso Patriarchy! There we go.