Nj78Chapter 15: Getting Defensive
Tuesday's Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Ravenclaws was possibly the most worrying class the Grangers had ever attended. The Ravenclaws were the most curious witches and wizards in the whole school, and for the twenty minutes before class started that curiosity was focused entirely on Harry and Hermione. The questions they asked, some bordering on the inappropriately personal, were not the garden variety sort that had been thrown at them so far.
More than just family history, the Ravenclaws were interested in the structure of classes and the current political happenings in South Africa – Muggle and Wizard – as well as how Harry's adoptive parents had figured into those events. Harry found lies rolling off his lips easier than truths. It was disturbing. Hermione just bit down on her bottom lip and nodded along with whatever Harry said. He hoped that she was taking mental notes of what he was saying, because he was certain that he would not remember it all later. When the tweedy Professor Morven strolled up to his lectern and began shuffling his notes for the day, the Ravenclaws finally retreated to their seats.
"Thank goodness that's over," Hermione breathed, not caring that James, Remus and Sirius were sitting so close they could hear her. "I've never been so nervous!"
"Not even that night last June?" Harry quirked an eyebrow, his eyes darting to Sirius. The boy in question raised an eyebrow of his own, highly intrigued by their purposefully vague way of speaking to one another in public. It was a form of lying he was quite familiar with, and he was curious what had happened to the pair that they had to hide it.
She glared at Harry and dropped her voice. "No, that was completely different and you know it. Things like that don't make me nervous. They scare the daylights out of me, but not like this."
He grinned and pulled her into a hug. His sister. He had always thought of her that way, and now he got to talk about her that way, too. "You, my sister, are braver than you let on." She blushed and couldn't find anything else to say.
"Is a little bravery all it takes to win a hug?" Sirius asked with a wicked smile pulling at his mouth. "Because I'm quite brave."
"Yes, of course you are," James cooed and patted him on the head as if he were a puppy.
"Do you see the way they treat a man of my stature?" he turned his puppy dog eyes to Harry again, begging for some proper attention.
Harry laughed. The Sirius he had known had never made such ridiculous noises at him, except when he actually was a dog. Part of him still ached for the loss and was desperate to apologise, but he remembered his dream. He knew what would happen if he tried to alleviate his own guilt; they would reject him as mad and he would be alone in the past.
No, it was better to just play along and deal with the guilt and nightmares.
"So demeaning to a member of the noble House of Black. A man of such lineage deserves some respect, Mr Potter," Harry put on his best imitation of Professor McGonagall's voice. He was understandably good at it after having to listen to the witch for five years, though the three other boys thought he had only known the woman's voice for three days and grinned their approval at his skills.
"Thank you, Professor," Sirius said and batted his lashes at Harry.
"Git," Harry muttered but smiled all the same. "So, what do we know about Professor Morven, then?"
Sirius dropped his coy act and leaned back on the bench with no fear of falling backwards and cracking his skull open on the desk behind. "Nothing."
"At all?" Hermione asked, stunned.
"He's new," Remus shrugged. "Every year the Defence teacher is new. They never last even when they're good. Professor Hopstitch fourth year was really good, everyone liked her, but she quit at the end of the year. No one knew why."
"The post is cursed!" Sirius insisted and made a show of blessing himself in every language and form he knew. Hermione frowned as he spat in the four cardinal directions, narrowly missing her bag.
"Rubbish," Remus muttered, though he appreciated the power of magic more than anyone. His condition was proof enough that curses were real. He could feel the moon pulling on him already, though it would not be full until the following night.
Seeing the dark shift Remus's eyes had taken, Sirius cleared his throat and turned the topic back to the Grangers. "What was your Defence teacher like then?"
Both of the Grangers paused with a slightly amused smile on their faces as they simultaneously thought 'Which one?'
Sirius found their behaviour curious, but did not press the point. It was just another thing on the mental list he had labelled 'Operation Not-Prongs.' It had not yet been a full week since the start of term and already he was certain beyond the shadow of a doubt that there was something very strange about Harry James Granger and his sister.
"We've had quite a few Defence teachers," Harry said, the tight smile on his face revealing nothing. "The best was our third year teacher. He made everything fun."
"Speak for yourself!" Hermione cut in. "That final exam terrified me." Harry shook his head and smiled openly.
"What did he do?" Remus asked.
Harry grinned and fought down a laugh, though no one could quite see what was so funny about the question. "It was an obstacle course, fighting all the creatures we had learned about that year – minus the werewolf, obviously – and ending with the Boggart." The girl shivered at the creature's name. "Hermione saw our Head of House telling her she failed all her classes, so she ran screaming. I think that's the only time you didn't get a perfect score."
"It wasn't funny," Hermione insisted.
The girl was spared further embarrassment by the sharp slam of the classroom door. Everyone turned in their seats and looked at the door and then at Professor Morven. The middle-aged wizard looked like the sort of man Harry expected to see teaching at a Muggle university, all tweed jacket and dull olive jumper. He was a man one could set one's watch by.
"I will accept no excuses for tardiness in my class," Morven announced. "If you cannot arrive on time, you will not arrive at all. No late work will be accepted, no extra credit will be given." Hermione frowned at that. "We will begin with roll. Raise your hand when I call your name so that I can see your face. It may take some time for me to put the two together."
"Adler." "Here."
"Batista." "Here."
"Black." "Good morning," Sirius replied, earning a scowl from the professor.
"Creighton." "Here."
The roll continued and for the first time in his life, a teacher did not hesitate, jump or squeak at Harry's name. The three previous professors had not bothered to take proper roll; this was the first time Harry knew that the teacher was looking at him and checking off his name. Morven read the two Grangers off his list and continued as if Harry were nothing special. The boy had never felt so normal or accepted. He was Harry, just Harry, for the first time since he started Hogwarts. He looked at Hermione, who nodded and smiled. The delirious grin on his face was sure to draw attention, but he didn't care.
Sirius added the boy's strange smile to his Operation Not-Prongs list.
"This year," said Morven, gripping his lectern and glaring hard at each student, "you begin working toward your NEWTs. The material from this day forward is going to be more difficult than anything you've ever encountered. The creatures you will study will be the darkest and most dangerous as will the spells you will be learning to defend yourself against."
Harry waited for him to take exception to The Boy Who Lived, as most teachers did, saying something congratulatory or condescending about his past, but nothing came. Morven continued, his eyes glancing over Harry as they did over any other student.
"Today we will discuss the concept of nonverbal spells." The professor flicked his wand and the chalk began to dance across the blackboard, drawing an intricate anatomical diagram of the human head and neck, with a second diagram that looked suspiciously like a Quidditch play.
Hermione raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss…"
"Granger, sir," she replied and pointed at the board behind him. "I've read the chapter on nonverbal spells, and that looks nothing like the information provided in the book."
Morven turned and looked at the chalk still dancing happily across the board. "It appears someone in this room is already rather adept at nonverbal spells," he said dryly and flicked his wand to stop the chalk. "No more of that nonsense or I'll take points from both houses and give everyone detention regardless of who is at fault. There will be no tomfoolery in my classroom."
As the professor corrected the diagram on the board, Harry glanced down the row looking for signs of who might have cast the spell. He didn't have to look far.
"I miss Hopstitch," Sirius muttered. "She would've given me points for that." He put his wand down in his lap. No sense getting detention if he wasn't going to get proper credit for his efforts.
Harry felt a bit of lead fall into his stomach. He had known Sirius was clever, but he had never imagined he would be able to perform nonverbal spells without being taught.
Morven lectured at them for the next two hours about nonverbal spells. Hermione was taking notes furiously, while James and Sirius passed notes casually. Harry took down whatever sounded important, but couldn't stay focused. He was too excited at being seen as normal but also disturbed by a growing uneasiness of what Sirius and James must think of him. They were clever, naturally talented and top in all their classes, while he was average at best.
He felt a poke in his arm and saw a small paper airplane jabbing at him. Grabbing it before Hermione could scowl at him, he opened it and read:
'A Galleon says I can make Morven laugh before Halloween—Sirius.
Two says I can make him cry—James.
What've you got, Granger?'
He glanced over at them and saw the pair smirking at him, daring him. He just shook his head and tucked the creased wager under his notes and focused on Morven. The man was uptight. It didn't seem that farfetched to want to make him crack. As he listened and took notes, Harry wondered what he would do to make the man laugh or cry or scream. He had no sway over the man; no Chosen One or Boy Who Lived status to fall back on. He had only his wits and talent here.
He could make a corporeal Patronus, which was more than most could do at his age, but what else? Compared to Sirius and James, he had very little to offer. His frown was still firmly in place as he walked to lunch.
"What's the matter?" Hermione asked.
He glanced around and saw everyone was too far away or too engrossed in their own discussions to listen to anything he might say. "It's just…without being the Chosen One or the Boy Who Lived…who am I?" he asked. He saw her frown and thought she was preparing to make fun of him. "I mean, what can I actually do? If I had to say 'I'm Harry and this is what I'm capable of doing'…I don't know what to say."
"Harry," she said slowly, her frown turning up into a kind, if somewhat condescending, smile. "You're more than just some stupid prophecy. You fought a dragon and Dementors. You took on the entire Ministry. You can outfly anything regardless of how flash your broom is. You are brilliant, Harry, and I'll smack you every time you say otherwise."
A grin spread slowly over his face. He had done all that and most of it had nothing to do with what anyone thought of him. Dragons and Dementors don't care what other people said about him. He defied the Ministry when everyone said he was just looking for attention. And he was good on a broom. Okay, so he did have something besides being Voldemort's enemy going for him.
"Why are you asking, anyway?"
Harry's grin dropped. "Well… Sirius and James… they…"
"Harry, are you trying to impress your d—" she stopped, remembering what happened in the greenhouse. "Are you trying to impress James?"
He shrugged and mumbled. "Maybe a bit. It's just they're so much better at being a wizard than me."
"Don't be a git, Harry," a girl chimed in, smacking him on the head. Harry wanted to shout at her but couldn't. Firstly, the girl was his mother, and, secondly, he was too worried about what she had overheard, which was apparently only his final comment, because she continued, "Potter and Black are purebloods. They grew up around magic and can practice at home without being expelled. Of course they're going to be better wizards than anyone else."
She was right, of course. Harry had been playing catch up since day one at Hogwarts. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had made certain he was as clueless as a mushroom living in that cupboard, never knowing the truth about all the odd things he made happen. If he had known, been allowed to practice, then maybe he would be better.
All this flashed through his mind in an instant, but was quickly overtaken by a single, smug thought that he could not help but voice: "That was dangerously close to being a compliment," Harry informed her with a smile. "Are you thinking of joining the Potter bandwagon?"
"Oh, shut up," she waved his comment away.
Hermione fell back and let the pair bicker about James, his skills and what constituted a compliment, a pleased smile on her face that Harry and his mum were getting along.
"Should James be worried?" Sirius whispered in her ear, making her jump. She had not realised he was so close or that he had been paying them any attention. It was unnerving the way everyone kept sneaking up on their discussions.
"Should James be worried about what?" Hermione asked.
The boy lifted an eyebrow as he looked from her to Harry and Lily walking ahead of them as if his meaning ought to be obvious. "Harry James Granger…"
"What about him?" Hermione frowned. She didn't like being confused or feeling stupid, but that was exactly how she felt with Sirius conducting the conversation.
"Are you seriously that thick?" he wondered aloud, earning him an insulted glare. Still, as he explained, he purposely spoke slowly so that she was sure to understand. "Harry is chatting with James's girl. Should James be worried?"
Hermione managed to keep herself from slapping him, though it took considerable effort, and looked at the couple that had Sirius's mind working; the pair–son and mother–were walking and talking as if they had known each other for years. Lily reached out and shoved Harry sideways, something Hermione often did to him and Ron. She realised that she and Harry were the only ones who knew what Lily was to him, that to everyone else their conversation looked like flirting instead of friendship and filial love on Harry's part.
"Ew!" Hermione cringed, disgusted at the implication. "No! It's not like that."
"That's what he said, too," Sirius said. "That's also the same shade of green he turned. Frankly, I think it's an insult to Evans. Don't tell James I said this, but I think she's quite hot and wouldn't go turning green if somebody suggested that I might like her."
"Well that's you, we're talking about Harry," she insisted.
"Still," the boy pressed, "most blokes I know wouldn't get so sick at the idea of being into a girl like that. Does he not like girls?"
Hermione glared at him again. "Just stop talking."
He held his hands up defensively, "It doesn't bother me if he swings the other way."
"I mean it," she said, her voice taking on a dangerous edge.
"I've known—"
"You really want to stop your mouth moving," she informed him.
The boy smirked as if she had challenged him. She was a pushover; they had all seen how a laugh from her brother had softened her anger. "W—" He frowned as the words died on his tongue. He tried again, but the words refused to come.
"I told you to stop," Hermione reminded him.
Understanding came a half-second too late. 'YOU!' his mouth said, though no sound came out.
"I much prefer your company when you can't speak," she smiled and walked along happily, unperturbed by the fierce anger the silent boy was sending her way. His fingers flexed at his sides as he fought the urge to choke her. His attempt at a nonverbal reversal spell had no effect. He couldn't undo it without knowing what spell she had hit him with. Remus or James might have been able to help him. If they didn't wet themselves laughing first.
Hermione paused outside the Great Hall. "If you promise not to speak, I will remove the spell." She waited patiently, a sweet smile on her face as she looked up at him.
He glared and hesitated and sneered but finally gave a brief nod.
"Good," she said, and waved her wand. The spell was cast without words, so he still had no idea what incantation she had used to bind his tongue. A pleasant, if very smug, smile later and she was gone.
"Wench," Sirius muttered. He stared hard at Hermione as he walked into the Great Hall, but the girl just ignored him. He grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him away from his sister and Lily to sit further down the table with the Marauders.
He wanted to ask about the sister, but decided the slow, subtle approach might work best when discussing family. He couldn't just ask outright what the hell he was doing with such a freakishly know-it-all, hard-nosed sister, now could he? That was not the Sirius Black way. Besides, she had cast a spell to keep him asking more questions about Harry and Lily, so how better to annoy her than by pursuing that line?
"So… chatting up Potter's girl, are we?" Sirius asked.
"More like talking Potter up to the girl," Harry said and took a tentative bite of sandwich. No one, not even Sirius, commented while he ate, fearful of putting him off. They might have been puerile pranksters, but they all knew that the boy needed to eat.
Waiting for him to chew and swallow, James grew positively explosive with delight. "What'd she say?"
"I think she's coming around," Harry commented.
"Yes, but what did she say?" James demanded, as if knowing the precise words the girl used might give him some edge in winning her over.
Harry just shook his head and pushed his plate away.
"Three bites? That's all?" said Sirius, shaking his head in dismay. "That will never do."
Moving with the reflexes only an athlete could possess, he reached out and grabbed hold of the boy, but Harry was no easy target; he managed to get loose with a triumphant laugh. The victory was short lived. Before Harry could escape the bench and run clear of his long reach, Sirius took hold again, pulling the boy against his chest and pinning his arms easily. Harry hadn't the strength to fight Sirius off a second time and he could only curse at him.
"I do believe that puts the score at me one, you zero," Sirius smirked, though he could feel the boy's heart beating like a rabbit's again and worried the strain of the struggle might have been too much for him.
"Moony," Sirius said with a confidence he wasn't feeling, "shove some food in this boy's face before he dies, would you please?"
"I'm not hungry," Harry protested.
"That's because you never eat," Remus said wisely. "Now shut up and open wide." He pushed a slice of apple into Harry's mouth when he opened it to complain again. With Sirius holding his arms down and Remus's hand covering his mouth, he had no choice but to chew and swallow the sour wedge of fruit. Harry cursed them venomously in his thoughts even as his heart warmed with their concern.
"Better?" Sirius asked.
"No," Harry grumbled.
"Well, we'll just have to keep it up then," he said far too brightly and hugged Harry closer until every bit of his back was pressed against him. "Moony…"
"I –" Harry's complaint was cut short by the apple slice entering his mouth.