“First session went well, don’t you think?” Hermione said brightly as they studied in the common room after Advanced D.A. Ron nodded energetically. He was actually, honestly, reading the book Hermione had ordered. The original title Animagical had been charmed to read Remedial Potions. Harry had ordered some alternative Transfiguration textbooks at the same time. They might have helped if he could find the time to read them.

Hermione took the ring off her pinky and charmed it to the same time next week. She had issued plain silver rings to the ten students who wanted to work on becoming Animagi. The date and time were engraved on the inside. Harry had helped her with a parchment charm to make the date and time into a nice flourishing script that scrolled around the inside.

Harry suppressed a sigh at the memory of his own frustration at the session and pretended to be too involved in his own book to respond.

“Boy, I really want to know what animal I am. I think that is the most interesting part,” Ron said quietly without lifting his nose from his book.

“You are most likely what your Patronus is, but that isn’t always true,” Hermione lectured.

“McGonagall’s Patronus is a tiger but she’s a house cat as an Animagus,” Harry said.

“When did you see Professor McGonagall’s Patronus?” Hermione asked, then answered her own question quickly. “Oh yeah, the Dementor attack. How could I forget?”

“Snape have one?” Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. It bothered him to consider. The thought that it might not be possible for Snape to think of anything happy enough to generate one was hard to accept. He frowned and really tried to get into his reading to have something else to think about.

Harry kept his books company so much he began to look forward to Easter holiday, even though it was still a month and a half away. The Advanced D.A. group had begun to hang out more together outside of sessions, everyone except Suze. When she had asked Harry why some of the Sixth and Seventh Years were not going to the regular meetings anymore, he had willingly told her. Without knowing her all that well, he found himself trusting her completely. When she had expressed keen interest in joining as well, he had asked Hermione to give her a ring.

They were sitting in the Great Hall when Hermione joined them. “Did you hear?” she asked in a whisper. Obviously, none of them had, so she said, “We are getting eleven Durmstrang students for the rest of the year. Seems they don’t have much of an advanced Potions or Defense Against the Dark Arts classes right now, so some of the students wanting to take those are coming here.”

“When are they arriving?” Ginny asked with avid interest.

“In a week or so.” Hermione looked sideways at Harry, who had the N.E.W.T. preparation study guide in front of his nose. “Did you hear that, Harry?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I heard you,” he replied in disinterest.

Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed in frustration. The conversation soon returned to Animagia.

“You have a lot of scrolls to go through,” Harry observed when he stopped in for a visit at Snape’s office before dinner. They were all bulky, some with faded gold braid hanging off the wooden dowels.

“Policy documents,” Snape explained. He considered Harry a moment. “The school’s board approved my posting as deputy headmaster.”

“You’re the deputy headmaster now?” Harry asked in wary surprise.

“Yes,” Snape confirmed. “Thinking about getting into trouble?”

“Uh, no,” Harry replied quickly. “Better not, I guess.”

“That was always true, but perhaps more so, now,” Snape said, as he returned to reading.

Harry lifted one of the smaller scrolls and unwound a foot of it. It was a detailed description of scheduling procedure. He wondered how he could ask for one that would cover what complex spells were forbidden for students to work on. After rolling that one up neatly, he picked up another. This one was about grounds maintenance. Insomnia would not be a problem with one of these by one’s bedside.

“Looking for something in particular?” Snape asked without raising his gaze.

“No. Just curious,” Harry lied. “I’ll leave you to it.”

When he reached the door, Snape said, “Minerva will most likely announce it at dinner tonight.”

“Thanks for the warning. My friends will be thrilled.”

Snape grinned lightly when he raised his eyes. Harry shook his head and smiled, giving up on his suffering mode.

McGonagall did announce it at dinner and Harry’s friends did all turn to him with surprise. He just shrugged in return and insisted that he could not have given them much warning.

“Boy,” Ron muttered as he served himself roast. “Good thing this didn’t all happen years ago. Imagine how much less trouble we’d have got into. It’d have been awful.”

The others laughed and Harry adjusted the napkin in his lap. He’d not considered the past in that light, all the stress and pain of it, the mistakes he still regretted. With someone actually watching out for him, the last six years certainly would have gone differently.

Harry remained withdrawn through the meal, listening to his housemates carry on a spirited discussion of the relative merits of two Wizard Wireless performers Bretagne Lancelot and Treegrove Simsdaughter. Idly, as he ate his pudding, he wondered that Snape did not have a Wireless set somewhere in the house. Maybe they did have one. A proper wizard household should.

He was mulling over what a Wireless set might look like, thinking over each of several objects in the house which had unclear purpose, so he didn’t notice when the table around him fell quiet.

Ron uttering, “Professor,” a little formally, brought Harry’s attention back and he looked up to find Snape standing behind and to the side of him.

“A bit brooding, aren’t we, Mr. Potter?” Snape asked, although the tone failed to match the words, being too concerned.

Harry pushed his glasses on firmly and gave a slight shrug. He could not shake the what-ifs that were clawing at his mind right then.

“’e’s just sad ’cause ’e can’t cause trouble no more,” Seamus commented with a snicker.

Harry managed to brighten up a bit, although it seemed to hit his pride to do so. He sensed that Snape saw through it, and that made him feel unexpectedly better.

“All right,” Hermione said loudly to get everyone’s attention during Advanced D.A. “This is the spell. The incantation is Canarevelatio but you MUST have your animal in mind when you do it. If you can’t visualize anything, you aren’t supposed to be trying it. Foot is safer than hand, because if you have a wing or something, changing it over might cut off your limb, and that will take some explaining to Madam Pomfrey.”

Everyone shuffled nervously, but most took out their wand and some sat on the floor to remove a shoe. Harry sat off to the side watching, hoping no one got hurt. Ginny had her shoe off already and was concentrating hard.

“I’ll go first,” Hermione said, seeing this. She sat on a chair and closed her eyes for a long minute. She opened them and tapped her foot while speaking the spell. Nothing happened. “Hm,” she said. She tried again with no result. After many attempts, she gave up with a huff. Harry felt a little amused at her expense. Neville tried next, also with no luck. Ginny, finally running out of patience, shouted the spell and whacked her arch hard with her wand. At first Harry thought she had also failed, but Ginny squealed in surprise.

Everyone gathered around her. Ron said, “I don’t see anything.”

“It was there,” Ginny insisted. “Feathers. Brown ones with little white stripes. Right about here.” Due to the close crowding of students, Harry could not see where she indicated.

“Try it again,” Ron urged excitedly.

Around the twentieth try, Ginny could reliably change her foot into a bird foot. It stuck grotesquely off her leg and it faded quickly, morphing back to her own after a few seconds.

Neville said, “I have a bird book. We can look it up later.” He was looking over Dean’s shoulder at his sketch of what Ginny’s foot had looked like.

“I’m next,” Ron said brightly. Like the others, he couldn’t produce anything.

Several more students tried with no success. Suze went last. “What is your Patronus?” Hermione asked her.

“I can’t do one,” she replied. “I haven’t learned that yet. But I’ve been listening and I want to try.”

“Go ahead, then,” Hermione said. Harry could hear in her voice that his friend assumed nothing would come of it. She had been even-handed with Suze but Harry suspected she had only agreed to let her in because Harry had asked. She had not been in the regular D.A. long enough, really.

Suze sat on the floor and bent her bluishly pale foot toward herself with a dancer’s ease. She sat quietly for a long time before incanting the spell. Even from where Harry was, he could see her foot transform into a little white paw. The room broke out into awed noises.

“What is it?” Ron asked, leaning over to peer at it more closely. It stayed transformed a lot longer than Ginny’s bird foot.

“A white mink,” she replied factually. “That was always my favorite.” It finally faded.

“Wow,” Hermione said. “Well you guys are going to have to help the rest of us out. But I think we are done for the night. I have an essay to finish.”

General grumbling went around at the thought of uncompleted schoolwork. Hermione turned to Harry, still sitting off to the side.

“What about—?” Ron started to say before he cut himself off.

Hermione came over to Harry and sat close beside him. “Don’t even want to try?” she asked in a pained voice.

“I’m really rotten at this stuff,” he said.

“Harry,” she said admonishingly. “Listen to you. You’re good at nearly everything. Don’t get down on yourself.”

“I’m getting an ‘A’ in Transfiguration. That’s all I’m going to get on the N.E.W.T., if I’m lucky. I’m not going to get into the Auror’s program.” The thought of that made his chest tighten up. He forced himself to breathe deeply.

“They can’t keep you out of the Auror’s program, Harry,” Ron said.

Harry stood suddenly and said stridently to his face, “If I don’t deserve to be in it, then I shouldn’t be.” He stalked off, leaving his friends frowning at each other.

The next day at dinner, Hermione said to Harry, “Why don’t you ask McGonagall for help?”

“Like she has time,” Harry said smartly.

“She’d make time for you,” Hermione said in her talking to an idiot voice. “She now has an assistant, remember? Go ask her after dinner. Do you want me to ask her for you? I don’t mind,” she offered, sounding ready to jump up just then.

“Don’t do that. If it comes to that, I’ll ask.” Harry put his napkin in his lap. The food had not appeared yet, which was a little slow. He wished for it as a distraction.

The doors to the Great Hall opened and a tall young lady wearing Durmstrang student robes and very long black hair stepped in a little uncertainly. She was followed by an Indian girl in the same outfit who had her long hair in a thick braid wrapped around her head. McGonagall was heading down the center of the Hall with her confident stride.

“Welcome,” she said with broadly spread arms. Three more girls stepped in as the first held the door open.

“What? Are they all girls then?” Ron asked.

Harry didn’t see it but when he turned, Ron was rubbing his arm as if he had been struck hard on it, presumably by Hermione. McGonagall waved her wand to open both doors, revealing six more students.

“There are boys,” Hermione said smartly of the three, stern looking, olive-complected young men standing at the back, two with crossed arms, one with eyebrows like Krum.

If Harry had looked at his friend, he would have seen her keenly eyeing him to see where his interest seemed to fall. The boldest girl, the one who had first appeared, had caught his eye. He watched her as they stepped up the Hall, glancing at the ceiling and the assembled students with equal interest.

“Please come in,” McGonagall said in a kind voice. She led them to the ends of the tables where the students were far less crowded due to the proximity of the staff table. “Have a seat at any table. I’m sure you’re hungry from your journey.”

She addressed the whole room. “Everyone, these are visiting students from Durmstrang Institute. They are here to take advanced classes for the rest of the year here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I expect you all to welcome them and make them feel at home as they settle in.” Her eyes took in the room as though trying to pick out all the troublemakers. She turned and stepped around to the staff table, whose occupants looked as though they were trying to eye the new students without actually appearing to do so.

Food finally arrived after McGonagall returned to her seat. Ron whispered to Hermione and she shushed him sharply. He rolled his eyes in disgust and served himself from the bowl of potatoes that had appeared. Conversation in the Hall didn’t return to its previous volume as everyone talked of the new arrivals in muted voices.

At one point the three newcomers sitting with the Gryffindors stood up to peer down the table in their direction.

Hermione said to Harry, “You could wave.”

“What?” Harry asked, looking up from his study guide, which he was now intent on simply memorizing cover to cover.

She laughed. “Too late.” Ron had a smirk on his face. Harry shook his head at both of them.

Immediately after dinner, Hermione left the table, then returned as they were all standing up. At the doors they glanced back at the newcomers gathered in the front being introduced to the staff.

Back in the tower they gathered their books for studying. Hermione came back down from her dormitory and said, “Three new trunks are in our room and more beds have been added.”

“That’s right,” Ron said jealously. “It must have been awfully spacious in there with only three of you with a whole floor.”

Hermione just shrugged. “Now it’s normal, I think. But it does seem crowded,” she admitted.

The portrait hole opened and Professor Sinistra stepped in followed by three of the new students. Everyone in the common room stopped what they were doing and watched them enter. The two longhaired girls were there and a shorter one with a flat topped head of dusty brown hair. She stood like a Quidditch beater might, with a lot of physical confidence.

“Students, we have a few additions for the rest of the year. They will be living with the girls in the seventh-year dormitory.” Sinistra gestured over her head for Hermione to step forward. Harry stepped up a riser to get a better view over Ron’s shoulder. “Girls, this is Hermione Granger. She is Head Girl and is also in your dormitory. Please come to her with any questions you may have.”

Hermione gave them a smile which was only returned weakly.

“This is Penelope Tideweather,” she said, introducing the tall girl who had led the way into the Great Hall. “Darsha Seth,” she said, indicating the Indian girl, who did smile at the room. “And Frina Chuchinick.” Frina nodded at the room, her light colored eyes taking everyone in with vague suspicion. “Hermione will show you up to your room. Your trunks are there already.”

Harry stepped aside as the group approached. Frina spotted Ron’s Prefect badge and shook his hand in what seemed an official way.

“Ron Weasley,” he said, in an oddly deep voice.

Harry had a feeling he was imitating Percy and had to turn away to hide his laugh. Ginny and several other girls followed the newcomers up as well.

Ron said with some glee, “Well that will put a damper on studying tonight.” He turned to Harry and shook his head. “I can’t believe…”

“What?” Harry asked when Ron had trailed off.

“Uh, that Durmstrang can’t teach a decent Defense class,” he finished hurriedly. “Hope they like Snape. Seems like their type. No offense intended,” he added, touching Harry on the shoulder.

“None taken. I would agree, really. Sort of a stoic bunch.”

Ron picked up his book bag from the floor by the stairs. “I’m sure they’ll loosen up once they’ve been here a while,” he said with an unexpected comic certainty. They took seats near the hearth and took out their books.

As predicted, the girls were a long time returning. Hermione and Ginny, when they finally reappeared, came over and sat with them. “They were tired from the long train ride, so they’re going to sleep,” Hermione said. “They seem nice enough. A little standoffish, maybe, but I’m sure they’ll open up once they get to know people,” she said reassuringly, oddly echoing Ron.

The next morning at breakfast, Ron and Harry grew tired of waiting for Hermione to appear and went down without her. Ginny was also apparently helping the new arrivals make their way around this morning because she did not appear either.

“Girls,” Ron breathed in dismay as they exited the portrait hole. “How good do they have to look for breakfast anyway?”

This was the first time in a long time that Harry had been alone with Ron. As they walked down the corridor to the staircases, he swallowed hard and said, “So things are going well with you and Hermione?”

Ron tilted his head from side to side. “Yep,” he answered noncommittally.

Harry frowned. He was really darn curious just how close they were but he had no idea how to ask. He would need an entire evening with Ron to even get near the topic. And maybe a jug of mead as well. With a quiet sigh he let it go for now.

In the Great Hall they took up their normal seats near the center of the table. Neville was already there. He gave them a smile as they sat down.

“Where are the others?” Neville asked.

“Who knows?” Ron asked in disgust. “They’re girls. It could be HOURS.”

Neville laughed. “Luna’s not like that.”

“Consider yourself lucky,” Ron said as he took an apple out of the basket on the table and bit into it with a loud crunch.

As it turned out, it was just another five minutes. Hermione led the way to the bench across from the three of them and invited the new students to sit. They thanked Hermione politely and sat almost in unison, although it was clear they were not accustomed to stepping over the bench. Penelope had to lift her hair to the side to avoid sitting on it. They took up their serviettes and primly arranged them.

Frina, sitting across from Harry, looked over at him and froze. Harry had to fight a frown as their eyes locked. She nudged Penelope beside her, to no avail, since her friend was discussing the ceiling with Hermione in great detail.

“Hello,” Harry said evenly.

“Hello,” Frina returned in an accent he didn’t recognize. She seemed to recover herself and tossed her head as though she realized she’d been silly. “Very pleased to meet you,” she said as though quoting a phrase book.

“Where are you from?” Harry asked.

“Split. That is in Croatia.”

“Ah,” Harry said, happy to have a geographic reference for the accent.

With a small smile, she nudged her companion, again to no avail.

“Where is your friend from?” Harry asked.

“Switzerland. The German part.” She gave Harry a wink.

“Just asking,” Harry returned defensively as food appeared before them.

“So much easier than the serving line at Durmstrang,” Frina said. “The Prefects get to get in line first, behind the teachers. It is ridiculous,” she complained. She picked up her fork and began eating with the same relish Ron did, slowing down only when her plate was empty and she had to pause to serve herself seconds. When she glanced up at Harry, she seemed surprised all over again to be across from him.

The conversation about the enchanted ceiling, its spells and history, finally wound down.

Frina yet again nudged Penelope and asked, “Did you meet my new friend?”

Penelope dabbed her mouth and looked across where Frina indicated.

With a quirky smile Frina said, “This is Harry Potter. I am pretty sure anyway. I am told he has this scar.”

Harry frowned lightly at that and Penelope’s shocked expression. She definitely fell into the he could get dangerous at any moment category.

“Hello,” Harry said.

“Hullo,” she returned hesitantly as she stared at him. After a moment she too seemed to realize she was behaving oddly and pushed her shoulders back. “You are, uh, normal looking,” she said in a light German accent.

“Thanks,” Harry said with a little sarcasm. Beside him, Ron ducked his head.

“I haven’t heard that one,” he said with amusement. “And it probably isn’t true.”

Harry addressed his plate a bit more than the students around him.

“I am not intending to be rude,” Penelope said evenly, sounding concerned.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said, “I should have done introductions. These are my friends. Ginny Weasley. Across from her is Dean Thomas. This is Harry Potter.” She ignored the gasp from Darsha on her left. “Ron Weasley, my boyfriend. Neville Longbottom. Over here are Dennis and Colin Creevey.” The Creevey brothers gave cheerful waves.

“You are friends with the Destroyer of Voldemort?” Darsha quietly asked Hermione in her heavily accented English. It carried well down the table.

“Someone has to be,” Ron quipped.

“Ron,” Hermione said in such a dangerous voice that Neville instinctively shifted away from his friend in case something bad were about to befall him.

Harry had to resist shooting the new Indian student a dangerous look just to see how she would react. He sighed faintly and pushed his scramble around with his fork, not the least bit hungry anymore. He pushed the plate away and it disappeared. His pumpkin juice sat untouched. He drank it, acutely aware that he was the center of immediate attention.

“I’ll see you in class,” he said as he stood up to leave. “Nice meeting you all,” he said flatly.

At the head table McGonagall watched Harry depart with abnormally slumped shoulders. “Ten points from Gryffindor,” she murmured.

Snape, in the seat on her right, turned to her in surprise. She stared at her nails in thought as breakfast wound down.

Two rows of new desks had been added to the Defense classroom. By the time everyone arrived, it was rather crowded. Harry and his friends took the back right section of seats. Especially with the new students, Harry decided he liked being back here and able to watch them all without effort. Penelope and Frina mouthed hellos as they sat down. Hermione responded in an overly friendly way. Harry gave them a weak smile. Ron frowned in apparent annoyance, which Harry wondered about.

Snape stepped up to the platform and said, “We may need to find a different classroom. We’ll see how it goes today.”

Snape lectured at length about advanced blocking and counter-cursing, much of which they had already covered. Hermione took almost no notes, even. Dean, beside Harry, seemed intent upon this review session as did some of the others.

“A demonstration then,” Snape said, looking over the room. “Who is the strongest among you in this?” he asked the Durmstrang students.

The new students all turned to the tallest boy, who stood up slowly. He had a mop of curly dark hair and a roman nose below his prominent forehead. As he stepped up to the platform, he moved with easy confidence.

“You can do all of the spells I just reviewed, Mr. Opus?” Snape asked him.

“Yes,” the young man responded in his rolling deep voice.

“Mr. Longbottom,” Snape said. “Come up here.”

Neville recovered from his surprise and came up. “Me, sir?” he asked.

“Yes, Longbottom.” Snape directed him to stand at the other end, ignoring when he almost tripped over his own feet getting into position. “A Figuresempre, an Expellimarius, and a Mutushorum, in that order.” He stepped back to get out of the way.

Neville ran through the attacks. Each was blocked easily. “This is the best you have?” Opus asked Snape.

“May I run through them again, sir?” Neville asked, seeming to try not to sound too eager.

“No. You may return to your seat.”

Neville actually looked like he considered arguing before he gave in. “I was trying to be polite,” he complained as he sat down in the seat ahead of Harry’s.

“You know those attacks, correct?” Snape asked Opus. He looked over the class. “Who wishes to block for Mr. Opus?”

Hermione stood up immediately and stepped to the front. Harry sat forward and watched with some nervousness until he noticed Ron didn’t look concerned at all.

As Hermione stood across from Opus, wand out, the new student said, “I cannot send curses at a lady. We are never required to do this.”

“Good chance to get used to it then,” Snape stated with false helpfulness. He gestured for him to begin.

Opus lowered his wand hand to his side. “I will not do this.”

“What are you concerned about?” Snape asked with impatience. “I am quite certain Durmstrang does not tolerate arguing with the instructor.”

Opus cringed and gestured in Hermione’s direction. “That she will get injured. She is so small—imagine if her block fails.” Hermione put her hands on her hips and glared back at him.

“Mr. Opus,” Snape stated, “the two students you have faced, Ms. Granger and Mr. Longbottom, provided blocking for all nineteen students who attacked the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters in the Entrance Hall of this castle. You truly need not worry about her block failing.”

The Durmstrang students, especially the three living in Gryffindor, gaped at Hermione. Opus relented with a concerned ripple to his brow. He incanted a very weak Figuresempre which Hermione blocked, barely needing to move her wand.

Snape stepped in a little angrily. To the two other Durmstrang boys, he said, “Either of you willing give Ms. Granger a chance to demonstrate her blocks?” When they merely looked at each other and shrunk down in their seats, Snape huffed. “Mr. Potter, come up here.”

Harry got to his feet. The Durmstrang students were whispering avidly amongst themselves as he stepped onto the platform. He followed Snape’s gesture for him to take Opus’ place and the tall boy stepped over to the wall and leaned against it, holding his wrist in his hand.

“Yes,” Snape intoned while eyeing the visitors. “The Harry Potter.” He stepped back again. “What is your strongest attacking spell?”

“Uh, blasting curse, I guess.”

“That then. Full power, Mr. Potter.”

At the other end Hermione took a deep breath and concentrated. Harry spelled her with about ninety percent of what he could do. It struck her Chrysanthemum block and scattered around the room, shaking the window panes and desks, even upsetting a stack of books on Snape’s front table. She was forced to take a step back as it hit, and she grumbled to herself about that.

“You are light, Ms. Granger,” Snape commented. “Even a good block will move the caster when it is hit hard. Now, Mr. Opus.”

Harry retook his seat, disregarding the stunned expressions of the new students as he walked between their desks. Opus gave it a good show this time, although Hermione looked displeased. She returned to her seat looking dangerous.

A few more pairs went through the spells. The quality of the Durmstrang blocks dropped off after the first five demonstrators. Snape had asked for them to come up in order of skill. Frina was second followed by Penelope and two others. They were each paired at random with a Hogwarts student.

One of the Durmstrang girls Harry didn’t know, raised her hand before the next pair was chosen. When Snape acknowledged her, she asked, “Are these all purebloods in this class? Because we are not…”

Snape rubbed his forehead and glanced at them all under his hand. They remained silent, waiting to see what Snape would say.

“Ms. Travoli, such notions are not acceptable here. Although you may well hear them expressed on very rare occasion by one or two students.” He glared at Malfoy sharply as he said this.

He stepped down to the floor of the classroom and stopped before her desk. “What you are seeing isn’t breeding or even nurture. It is the end result of two years desperation against overwhelming odds. Eighty percent of what these students know, or most of them anyway, they taught themselves. I am not trying to demonstrate either school’s superiority here, I simply need to know where you are to revise the syllabus for this course.”

He returned to the platform. “I have every intention of bringing every one of you to the same level at the end of this year. It is going to require a great deal of work on your part, but I see no reason why it is not possible.”

The Durmstrang students appeared relieved at that. The next student came up and was paired with Parkinson.

“Ms. Granger,” A familiar voice said as Hermione and Ron came down the staircases for lunch. They turned to McGonagall, who stood down a side hallway. “A moment.”

Hermione received a sympathetic look from Ron before she stepped over to the headmistress. McGonagall steered her down to Snape’s office. As they entered, Snape shelved the book he had been holding and crossed his arms.

“What happened this morning?” McGonagall demanded. Hermione, faced with incriminating Ron, who had only made things more difficult, shrugged. “Ms. Granger,” McGonagall prompted dangerously.

Hermione frowned as she replied, “There were two, oh-Merlin-I-can’t-believe-it’s-him and one he-might-kill-anyone-at-any-moment. Should have warned them, I guess.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed in thought. McGonagall huffed. “These are some of Durmstrang’s best students. They aren’t lily-white by any measure.”

“We didn’t handle it well either,” Hermione admitted, spreading the blame around.

“Then you deserved to lose the points you did,” McGonagall breathed as an aside.

Hermione’s jaw dropped open. She closed it without comment. McGonagall seemed too upset to risk arguing with.

“You will do better?” McGonagall asked with a threatening certainty.

“Yes, ma’am,” she replied smartly. “And you are going to start tutoring him in Transfiguration then, right?” Hermione added, leaning forward in anger. Surprised at herself, she backed down immediately. “Sorry Professor, that was out of line.” She glanced at Professor Snape and found him looking at her with positive regard.

“He hasn’t asked,” the headmistress pointed out.

“You’re going to have to make him do it,” Hermione said. “You know him. He thinks you’re too busy to bother, so he won’t ask.”

McGonagall drew herself up straight. “All right,” she said. “I’ll do that. And you will take care of the social direction?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hermione replied with confidence. “I think Harry won sympathy points, frankly, so it’s probably all right from this morning.” She glanced at Snape who had a neutral, thoughtful expression. He had not said a word, she realized, as she departed.

After the last class of the afternoon, they gathered in the Great Hall with the new Gryffindor boarders. The three young Durmstrang ladies settled in quickly and intently to their assignments. Harry found himself across from Penelope. She gave him the occasional considering look, which he ignored as he worked out his Astronomy assignment.

As students arrived for dinner, McGonagall strode in. She tapped Harry on the shoulder and gestured for him to follow her. He obeyed, stepping over the bench and down the aisle. When they were out of earshot, the headmistress said. “You have no D.A. tonight, correct?”

“Uh, correct,” Harry replied. They had no official D.A., just Advanced, which he could not admit to.

“Bring your Transfiguration books to my office at eight,” she said. “Ah, Pomona,” she then said to the teacher walking past, turning away from Harry. He blinked at her in confusion as she stepped around the head table, intent upon another conversation.

Harry sighed and returned to his friends.

“What was that about?” Ron asked. When Harry moved his silver ring to his other hand, the signal that he could not make the meeting, Ron said, “Oh.”

They put their books and parchments away as dinner arrived.