The next morning, McGonagall walked up and down the table, handing out schedules. Ron and Harry were nearly identical, except Harry had, by some miracle which he suspected Dumbledore had something to do with, had made it into the more advanced level of Potions. Ron was, instead, taking Muggle Studies. The other three felt that move quite wise, since they were all Muggle raised and Ron often was left out of jokes.
Heather and Hermione had identical schedules, expect, of course, that Heather was taking advanced Divination (“wooly discipline, utter rubbish”) and Hermione was electing to take an hour off and work in the library. For the most part, though, they were all together.
Heather watched McGonagall walk off, and wished, just for a moment, she’d said something- anything. It was misery not being able to reveal to a soul who she really was and how she related in to this wonderful world.
Lavender and Parvati had eyed her up and deemed her worthy of a few comments. Hermione had never particularly cared if they ignored her, and Heather, while friendly, preferred Hermione’s company.
Their first class was Defense Against the Dark Arts. The class was seated and waiting when Percy arrived in the back way.
“Take your seats please,” he stated calmly. The class looked at him, waiting for the usual start of the term lecture on Defense.
“Hello, I am Professor Weasley. I realize I must have know many of you in my own days here at Hogwarts. Please do not let this familiarity interfere with our classroom relationship. Now, I know the drama that has been your Defense education in the last six years. No doubt you will need a sturdy education from this moment forth.” He didn’t say anymore, but let his eyes linger, just for a moment, on Harry. Harry did not say a word; he knew that Percy had accepted Voldemort’s return and for the time being, that was enough.
Percy continued to talk, but not for anywhere near his usual dronings. After a moment, he asked that they take out there books and turn to page 1116.
“Patronus!” Harry heard a Slytherin gasp.
“That is correct. Today we will learn to defend ourselves against dementors and Lethifolds, though I am convinced that dementors present the biggest threat to all of you. Now, I understand that one of you in here can produce a Patronus?” He looked at Harry, who nodded.
A few others looked as if they wanted to mention their own success with the charm (Hermione was bursting at the seams) but they all refrained themselves. Percy looked to Harry, and Harry looked back.
“The charm is designed to produce a shield, if you will, that will defend the witch or wizard casting it from Dementors. However, it takes a very happy, very strong memory or feeling with which to maintain an effective Patronus. The wand movement is like so, and the incantation, which I would like you all to practice, is Expecto Patronum.”
The class repeated, most sounding bored (all members of the DA, Harry noted with a slight bit of pride).
“Now, as I obviously cannot bring Dementors into the classroom, and a boggart will not always take the shape of a Dementor, we must simply practice and practice the charm. Now, pair off, and I’m going to wander around, helping as needed.”
Ron paired Harry and Heather grabbed Hermione. Harry’s stag glided for a moment, came back to Harry, and vanished. Ron, who had, during the DA, had difficulty with a memory, got a clear, distinct snake for his Patronus. The girls looked over, most curious, as Ron stared, open mouthed.
“Harry?” He asked quietly. Harry nodded. “You’re not meant to be in Slytherin, and you’re not a Parslemouth. Snakes eat spiders, spiders fled the Basilisk, remember?”
Ron nodded mutely. Hermione pulled off her usual Patronus, and then it was Heather’s turn. What would hers appear as, if Harry’s was Prongs?
“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” She belted out, and out of her wand came a cat.
“Miss Evans, a moment,” Dumbledore’s voice could be heard from the entry to the classroom. Heather hurried over, passing Draco Malfoy as she did. He watched her pass, his expression one of confusion and recognition.
“Miss Evans, you do beat all,” Dumbledore commented.
“Your patronus is the form your godmother takes when she transforms.”
Heather nodded up at Dumbledore. “I knew it had to be someone close to me for me to choose that particular form.”
“Just mind that you think up something if someone asks.”
“I already have, Sir.”
Author's notes: I'm trying to think up everything else that should happen next. Any suggestions or things you all would like to see/have explained (except the George snogging, that will come) are most welcome!
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