Harry decided to talk to Professor McGonagall as soon as possible, afraid that he would lose his nerve if he waited too long. So, the weekend before the holidays were over, Harry found himself standing before the Transfiguration and Head of Gryffindor House’s office.

Steeling himself, Harry knocked on the door and waited for the curt ‘come in.’ Sighing, Harry pushed into her office.

“Mr. Potter?” McGonagall glanced up, her eyes rising above the rims of her glasses. “Can I help you?”

“Err—you remember last year, the career advice meeting?” Harry asked and McGonagall nodded slowly.

“A bit hard to forget,” she informed with a twitching smile.

“Well, I know you pledged to make me an Auror and all...” Harry trailed off as McGonagall nodded. “Err—I don’t want to be an Auror anymore.” The boy finally stated bluntly. To say McGonagall was surprised would’ve been a bit of an understatement.

“Truly, Mr. Potter, for it came to my attention that that was all you truly dreamed of these last couple of years. Why the sudden change of heart?” her voice sounded like she was hiding something that Harry couldn’t place.

“Well, it was,” Harry said tiredly. “But only because at the time I figured I’d have to because of Voldemort, but now he’s gone. I just don’t really want to fight anymore and plus it’s too much authority...judging by Mad-Eye Moody...not sure I like that.”

“Hmm...well Mr. Potter, I must say I’m not terribly surprised, and to that fact, Severus’s conversation suddenly makes sense.” She smiled faintly and Harry relaxed. He had been sure McGonagall would be disappointed in him for giving up on being an Auror. “What do you want to be?”

“A curse breaker for Gringotts...Bill Weasley is that and I’ve always thought it might be a bit interesting.” McGonagall raised her eyebrows.

“Well, Mr. Potter, to achieve that you’ll need Arithmancy and you aren’t in that class. An ‘E’ on your O.W.L.S. I do believe.” Harry’s face fell. That had been his one shot.

McGonagall sat down and stapled her fingers in much the same way Snape did when he was considering things. Harry leaned back in his chair sighing. Why hadn’t he just dropped Divinations like Hermione and joined Arithmancy. He had to admit, he had been intrigued by it when she talked of it, yet he hadn’t thought about it.

“How serious are you Mr. Potter?” McGonagall demanded.

“Completely,” Harry declared.

“Serious enough that’ll you take tutoring in Arithmancy on weekdays and on weekends, drop one free period and join the class, study hard and be ready to take the O.W.L at the end of the year?” Harry gaped at her. Could she really do that?

“Of course,” Harry breathed. “And Hermione could help me, too.”

McGonagall studied him for a few minutes and then nodded. Her lips were twitching. “Alright, Mr. Potter, I’ll talk to Professor Vector and see what can be arranged. As long as you are serious to your studies.” Harry nodded firmly. “You may leave, Mr. Potter.” She was smiling and Harry, quite grateful, hurried out.

He couldn’t find Hermione and Ron after he McGonagall’s office, so he just found himself wondering around the castle.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Flitch suddenly said causing Harry to spin around.

“Err—walking,” Harry replied.

“Oh you better be glad that Professor Umbridge’s decrees were disbanded because for your lip you would have found yourself hanging up by your toes.” Flitch stepped forward with beady eyes pinned on Harry.

Harry rested the urge to take a step backwards as the greasy caretaker stepped closer. Why Dumbledore let Flitch stay at the castle was beyond Harry.

“Potter you’re always up to no good...” Flitch snarled. “What do you think you’re wondering the castles corridors for?”

“I’m not,” Harry informed snidely. Flitch took a step forward.

“Up to no good Potter? Like you always are?” Flitch snarled. “I don’t like you Potter, cause too much trouble. What’s up your sleeves?” his movements were quick, so quick that Harry didn’t have time to react. Flitch’s hand shot out, grabbed Harry’s pocket that usually contained the Twins’ sweats, and withdrew their newest products.

“Hey!” Harry protested, trying to step away but Flitch grabbed him by the scruff of his robe collar and pulled hard. It was obviously a trained move because it startled Harry enough that he jerked his neck which caused a sharp, stinging pain.

“Aha,” Flitch snarled. “Caught you red handed, you won’t get away with this Potter. Not this time.”

“Flitch, unhand that boy!” a voice suddenly ordered.

“Not this time, Professor, caught him red handed. He’ll pay this time.” Flitch snarled, tightening his hold so that Harry almost cried out.

“As far as I am aware, Flitch, those tricks you have in your hands are not yet illegal, nor were they going to be used, seeing as there’s no use using them when no one is around. Now, unhand him!” Harry instantly recognized the Professor’s voice. It was Snape.

Flitch growled slightly and pushed Harry away from him. Ms. Norris hissed darkly at Harry from her position in the shadows and with her master turned and walked away.

“Must you, Mr. Potter, constantly get in trouble?” Snape demanded once Flitch was out of ear shot.

“Err—I seem to have a hard time avoiding it.” Harry rubbed his neck a bit and looked back at Snape. He was standing half in and half out of the shadows, his face a deep snarling scowl (his usual face) but the way he was perched in the hall made him look ten times more menacing.

“Apparently so,” Snape commented dryly and Harry shrugged.

“Thanks for helping, who knows what would’ve happened otherwise.” Harry smirked slightly showing that he probably had a good idea and he turned to go.

“Heard you talked to McGonagall,” Snape said suddenly. Harry nodded and kept walking. “I expect you at my office on Tuesday at eight.” Harry stopped in shock. “Do not think I’d forget about our deal Mr. Potter. Now, however, I regret it.” His voice seemed to say otherwise.

Harry turned around and found Snape was turning to walk away himself. “I do, however, wish you had prolonged your wait to talk with Professor McGonagall. I would’ve loved to give you detention until the end of your days.”

“Are you saying you still can’t sir?” Harry asked, his voice highly amused.

“I can, Potter, I can.” With that Snape was gone. Harry smirked to himself. He was sure Snape could, but he wouldn’t want to, seeing as it meant he’d have to put up with Harry until the end of his own days. But Harry didn’t dare say so.

888

Hermione was beyond pleased to help Harry with Arithmancy. Ron looked a bit disappointed that Harry had lost his only free period that they had together but he was the nonetheless glad that Harry was getting what he wanted.

“Won’t take away from Quidditch, will it?” Ron asked after Hermione ran off to find some books.

“No,” Harry said hopefully. Ron nodded all too pleased about that.

They could hear Hermione’s thumps and clunks as she dug through her trunk, looking for something. Harry had the feeling it was another book, probably a large book on Arithmancy.

“Mate, you’ve gotten yourself in deep now. Hermione’s bringing out books already. Chess?” Ron laughed, producing a chess board. “If you’re in the middle of a game, she can’t bother you.”

Harry laughed and obliged to a game. He hoped that with Snape’s lessons would give him a surprise advantage one day.

888

The rest of the school came back on Sunday, all hollering and shouting as usual. Harry found to a point that the noise was bothersome and at the same time a bit relieving. Yet, with the holidays over, Harry as were the others, were all suddenly famous again. This annoyed Ginny and Harry to no end, while Ron and Neville seemed to enjoy it.

Yet, it was Sunday evening that Harry found himself cornered by McGonagall.

“Here’s the deal,” she said in a curtly, businesslike manner. “You’ll take up the fifth year Arithmancy class, seeing as they’ll be preparing for the O.W.L.S. On Wednesdays after dinner, you’ll report for tutoring from Professor Vector. On Sundays, from one to three, also. Is that okay? Also, ask Miss Granger for help.”

She smiled slightly as she thrust Harry’s new timetable into his hands. It hadn’t changed, expect his free period on Tuesday was no longer there. “Don’t make me regret this, Mr. Potter.”

Harry nodded and smiled slightly to himself. It was an odd feeling, knowing suddenly that he had a chance to be what he really wanted to be.

888

Harry, however, felt oddly uncomfortable when he walked into the fifth year Arithmancy class. He didn’t know nearly as much as they did, though Hermione had more or less been cramming the basics into his head sense she found out, so he had some knowledge.

Professor Vector, to Harry’s relief, didn’t announce him as a new student to the class, just treated like it had been there the whole time. Luna Lovegood was in that class, which surprised Harry a bit, but gave him a bit of comfort. He wished he could’ve got into the one that Ginny had, but that was during Charms.

Arithmancy class was oddly fascinating and Harry wasn’t half bad. Yet, he lacked serious theory logic and was obviously behind. At first, all the fifth years gave him odd looks and whispered, and Harry could already tell rumors were starting, but by the end of the lesson no one seemed to care anymore.

However, Harry was immensely relieved to be free of that class. It was a great lesson, but the looks were annoying. At least sixth years knew him well enough not to shoot glances and stare.

Ron and Hermione met him in the Great Hall.

“Well?” Hermione demanded. “How’d it go?”

“Okay, aside from the glances and rumors, it was quite fun.” Ron muttered ‘mental’ under his breath while Hermione beamed.

Later that night, Harry found himself at Snape’s office. “Come in,” Snape ordered. “You’re two minutes early Potter.” He said, almost as if in disgust.

“There’s just no pleasing you, is there?” Harry sighed. “Either I’m two minutes early and you’re annoyed, or I’m a minute late and you’re peeved.” Snape didn’t make any comment, so Harry flopped down in a chair and waited two minutes.

“Alright,” Snape finally said, sitting back and brushing his parchments aside. He noticed that they were Sixth Year Potion essays. Harry rolled his eyes as he thought of Snape marking him even farther down for being early. But no, Harry thought, Snape wouldn’t do that, well not now at least.

“How was your Arithmancy lesson?” Snape asked as he set up the board.

“Fine,” Harry replied and that was the end of the conversation. They didn’t talk much beyond chess, which made sense to Harry. If he was there for Remedial Potions, or working on Madame Pomfrey’s potions it seemed to be a different meaning. It was to help Harry in school.

Yet, for him to be there for Wizard Chess lessons it was in a way a truce of some sort. At least out of the classroom and that went against everything both of them knew to be. It was uncomfortable, and it would take time to adjust yet in a way they both needed it.