The next two weeks were more or less heaven for Harry. He didn't even mind that he was spending an incredible amount of time with McGonagall and Snape after classes and on weekends, working on things. They both knew so many tricks and tips and refinements that in no time at all, he was catching Hermione up in the practical lessons, especially in Transfiguration. And it had even helped him with Charms (though not quite as much). Of course Ron thought he was completely mad, but he didn't complain too much, given that Harry was able to help him in turn.
Essays, even in Transfiguration and Potions, were a bother, as he was still getting used to doing them properly. He struggled with Herbology, as he had a bad tendency of shutting his brain off and working by rote when gardening, something you *really* couldn't do in Herbology without ending up in a world of trouble. History of Magic was nearly as bad, and Astronomy wasn't too much better. Neither was DADA, though Harry suspected he'd do better if it was a different teacher. Certainly, the stuttering, the reek of garlic and the headaches he got in that class didn't help matters. At the end of the week, he'd finally approached Snape about his difficulties in DADA, since he'd heard his first day in the castle that Snape knew a good deal about that subject. Much to his relief, Snape had been only too happy to help, and after that, the subject became much easier.
Potions, though, was both a major trial and a continuing source of hilarity. Once the guardianship papers had come through, Snape had dropped his snapping, sneering, vicious act like a bad habit ... much to the evident confusion of every student in the castle. The rumors about the change ranged from the probable (Dumbledore putting his foot down in regards to Snape's favoritism), to the scary (A Polyjuiced impostor and the Imperious curse being the front-runners) to the utterly ridiculous. Snape was still strict in class, and absolute, sudden death on anyone stupid enough to deliberately muck up their own or someone else's potion, though. A fact that Malfoy found out in the second week when he was caught trying to toss something into Harry's cauldron, and got a week's detention and lost twenty points.
That act finally got Ron on the 'Snape is ok' track. Apparently, stomping on Malfoy made you a good guy in Ron's books, though Harry really couldn't blame him. Malfoy was a complete prat. Harry was fighting an increasing urge to punch the git in the nose. He'd actually gotten *worse* since Snape had changed, rather than better, sniping at everyone viciously.
And today they had their first flying lessons. Harry was a bundle of nerves about it, though not nearly so bad as Hermione, who'd been talking his and Ron's ears off (despite their efforts to avoid her) with flying tips from Quidditch Through the Ages. At least the last two weeks had done him one favor ... he wasn't as stressed about not knowing what he was doing, just about whether or not he *could*.
Hooch came out and barked at them to stand next to the brooms, and gave them their instructions. Harry was quite pleased when his broom leaped to his hand instantly. Unfortunately, the next thing he knew, poor Neville was on the ground with a broken wrist while his broom drifted off over the Forbidden Forest.
Approximately three seconds after Hooch and Neville were out of sight, Malfoy started his crap up again.
"Pity the idiot didn't kill himself, instead of just breaking a wrist. He's a laughingstock to the name of pureblood wizards." Malfoy snapped.
To Harry's surprise, Parvati managed to respond first. "Shut *up*, you worthless, slimy git!" She fairly shrieked.
Harry himself (and the rest of the Gryffindors, he was pleased to see) were only a second behind her in voicing their opinions in an overlapping roar of outrage.
Of course, that made the Slytherins close ranks around Malfoy, glowering and snarling at them. Malfoy sneered cockily at them, as if daring them to try to hex him, then spotted something on the ground and snatched it up. "Hah! It's that fat git's remembrall. Too bad it couldn't tell him to remember to hang on." Then he got a nasty grin on his face. "Think I'll just ... "
"Give that back, Malfoy!" Harry blinked, as he and Ron had bellowed the same thing at the same time. "It doesn't belong to you!" Harry continued, while Ron glared at Malfoy.
Malfoy sneered again, mounting his broom and lifting off. "Come and make me then, Potter!"
Harry didn't stop to think, he just acted, jumping on his broom (ignoring Hermione's dismayed outcry in the process) and shot into the sky after Malfoy. And promptly discovered something that he, apparently, did not need any instruction in to be able to do, easily and well. This was ... glorious. Wonderful. Easy. For half a moment, he forgot Malfoy was up there with him, but then he was drawing even with the blonde git, who was looking rather stunned.
"Now what, Malfoy. No goons up here to save you. Give me that Remebrall, now!" He snapped.
Malfoy jeered at him again. "As if, Potter!" And wheeled around, taking off.
Harry didn't hesitate, flattening himself against the broom and giving chase. Malfoy looped up and around one of the towers, nearly knocking himself silly on an overhang that Harry avoided without even really noticing. That seemed to make Malfoy realize he wasn't going to be able to shake Harry off. At that point, he threw the remembrall at the castle wall as hard as he could, intending to destroy it.
Harry took off after it, coaxing ever bit of speed he could manage out of his broom, heedless of anything but the glint of the remembrall and the rapidly closing distance between him and it. Then he had it in his hand, and was swerving to avoid the wall, which was so close he stubbed his toes against it as he swung around.
It was only then that the rest of the world seemed to come back into existence ... and he realized, to his horror, that McGonagall and Snape both were on the ground below, and it was a tossup as to who looked angrier. Malfoy was already on the ground, glaring at Snape mutinously.
"GET DOWN HERE AT ONCE, MR. POTTER" McGonagall bellowed, and Harry quickly obeyed, head hanging.
"Explain." Oh hell. Snape sounded every bit as pissed as he had that first Potions class. Evidently, though, Malfoy either didn't hear it or decided to ignore the warning signs.
"Potter decided he was too good for the rules and started flying. I was just trying to get him down." Malfoy said.
The outraged roar from the Gryffindors made Harry feel a little bit better, but when Snape eyed him, he paled.
"Mr. Potter?"
Harry hunched in on himself at the tone, and couldn't seem to manage to get his voice to work. Trying to protest his innocence before had never worked, so why would it now? Especially when they both looked angry enough to spit. But they weren't the Dursleys, now were they? And Snape'd said, several times, that it was theri job ... well, all right. At least this way, he'd know for sure, right?
"Sometime today, Mr. Potter." And there went McGonagall.
Well, there was nothing for it. "Neville dropped his remembrall when he fell off his broom." Harry said. "Malfoy said some really nasty stuff about him, then picked the remembrall up and was going to hide it or break it, so I went after him."
Snape looked back and forth between them, and something in his expression shifted. "Hmm. So I see. Come with us, boys."
And then they got marched down to McGonagall's office in complete silence. Harry was more than a bit concerned, but at least they weren't bellowing. Once there, the two Professors turned to face them, and Harry quailed, realizing for the first time what an exceedingly intimidating duo the pair made.
"As it so happens, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, your behavior did not go as unremarked as you may have wished." McGonagall snapped at them. "It has long been the staff's practice for at least one other professor to be on hand during the first flying lesson for the first year students, just in case there is a major problem." Well, that answered how they'd shown up so fast. "So the entire debacle was witnessed by myself. And I must say that I have never seen such a vulgar display of poor manners, Mr. Malfoy."
"It is quite apparent to me." Snape sounded positively venomous. "That you did not learn your lesson the first time, Mr. Malfoy. You will, therefore, find yourself with an additional week's detention, to be served with Mr. Filch, and you will be forbidden to use magic. Any complaints from Filch, any attempt to skive off your punishment, and more drastic measures will be taken."
Harry was stunned. Malfoy, on the other hand, looked confused, horrified, and absolutely furious, but he (sadly) had wit enough not to argue with a furious Snape.
"Understood, Professor." Malfoy snarled.
Harry had no trouble at all in believing Malfoy either was, or soon would be, attempting to think up ways to pay Snape back for this. From the narrow-eyed glare Snape was giving Malfoy, Snape was thinking much the same thing. "Return to your room, Mr. Malfoy, until next class."
"Yessir." Came the sullen response, and Malfoy slouched out of the room.
Snape made sure he had actually left before closing the door and turning to Harry. Fortunately for Harry's peace of mind, Snape didn't look like he wanted to kill someone anymore.
"I will not." Snape said. "Censure you for defending a Housemate, Harry, but taking off after Malfoy was exceedingly foolish, when you had no idea whether you could fly or not. Your life is worth more than Mr. Longbottom's bauble. You will be serving a detention ... and I do mean a detention, not a teaching session disguised as a detention! with me tonight at eight."
"And another with me for defying Madame Hooch's orders to stay on the ground, tomorrow night." McGonagall echoed. "She gave that order for a reason, Mr. Potter, though, like Severus, I do commend you for your willingness to defend a Housemate. You just need to learn to do so within the rules." She gave him a little smile. "That said, now that the unpleasant bit is done, I shall be taking you to meet Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. We're much in need of a Seeker, and as ill-advised as your stunt may have been, it showed you have great promise for that position."
Snape looked somewhat less than pleased about that, but evidently was willing to let it go, simply nodding to McGonagall and leaving the room while McGonagall led Harry towards the DADA classroom.
Oliver was ecstatic about the news that Harry was apparently a good flier. Harry and Oliver spent over an hour later that afternoon, after last class, on the pitch, with Oliver testing his flying ability and reflexes under McGonagall's (equally ecstatic) eagle eye.
"We've got to get him a proper broom, Professor. The school brooms just won't cut it." Oliver complained.
"Don't worry about that. I have a plan in mind." McGonagall said, sounding quite pleased with herself.
Of course, Malfoy couldn't let it go. The day after Harry's last detention (and Snape hadn't been kidding about a real detention, which had NOT been fun in the least), he challenged Harry to a duel, and before he could figure a way to worm out of it, Ron had spoken up for him, and he was committed. Once Malfoy'd stalked off, Harry turned to Ron.
"What'd you do that for? You know he won't show up!"
"He was challenging your honor, Harry! What were you going to do, turn coward?" Ron challenged, going red in the face. "Besides, not even Malfoy's coward enough to not show up at a duel he instigated."
"Oh, for the love of ... " Harry shook his head, exasperated. Still, if Malfoy did show up, it'd be fun to hex the git. He actually knew a spell or two now ... not that any of them would do much of anything, but still.
Hermione, of course, was less than pleased. Harry had been getting on with her a bit better, despite not truly wanting to, really. Sort of. Anyway, since he'd started doing more studying, she'd been a lot less cranky with him. Personally, he still thought she was a bit mad, because she still didn't think he was studying enough. He had a feeling that the only reason she'd gotten into Gryffindor was that she argued with the hat like he had done.
At any rate, she'd been less than pleased with them both, and she and Neville ended up following him and Ron to the trophy room. And of course, Draco proved that he was a welshing, backstabbing coward. Also? There was a god-almighty huge three-headed dog in the third floor corridor. What. The. Hell.
He almost went to Snape about it, but changed his mind at the last minute. He'd get in trouble for being out after curfew, and probably for falling for Malfoy's line, to boot. So he didn't, and spent a good amount of time with Ron trying to figure out what was going on.
HPHPHP
While that same time period was not 'heaven' for Severus, he was surprised to find himself less displeased than was the norm. Certainly, he got a good deal of amusement out of the school-wide rumors regarding his sudden lack of favoritism and cruelty, and had not had trouble in his classes, either, as everyone was, if anything, more paranoid and watchful than before. And too, Harry was proving to be ... adequate. They were still circling each other a bit, trying to figure each other out and get used to each other. Severus knew it would be a while before Harry truly began to trust him, but he was willing to wait. Harry was certainly proving to be a quick study, at least in some areas. It was quickly becoming evident that when it came to practical applications of 'wand waving', Harry picked things up with startling quickness. Not, perhaps, as quickly as the Granger girl, but certainly not far behind her. He was on the low end of average, however, when it came to understanding the theory and applications of magic. Still, that was being dealt with.
The flying incident had been ... rather interesting. Severus was not unaware of Draco's increasing attempts to get Potter and Weasley in trouble. He was also aware that the twins were watching, waiting for Draco to step over some unstated line, so they could go on the attack. He did not envy Draco if the boy earned the twins' ire.
About a week after that, Minerva came into the staff room looking excessively pleased with herself and sat down in her favorite armchair across from him. Severus let her get a cup of tea before he broke the silence between them.
"All right, woman. What have you done that has you grinning like the Cheshire cat?" He wanted to know.
"Oh, just something that's been needing to be done for the last five or six years. I finally got the governors to agree to purchase new brooms for the school."
Severus' eyebrows headed for his hairline. "How in the name of Merlin did you manage that?" He wanted to know. All four Heads of House and Hooch had taken turns for the last few years trying to argue the governors into agreeing to the expense, but they'd been unsympathetic.
"Pure luck, I will admit. Much as I wish it hadn't happened, Neville being injured was a godsend. Augusta was incensed. It took very little talking to convince her to focus her ire where it belonged."
Severus gave a viciously pleased smile. Augusta Longbottom was a dragon on the best of days. Threaten or injure the Longbottom heir, and she became a mother dragon guarding her clutch. Rumor had it that when one of her relations had hung Neville out a window a few years back, they'd spent more than a month in St. Mungo's afterwards being put back together again. It also helped that the Longbottoms were a very old family, which would carry more weight with the governors than if, say, a muggleborn's family had complained. "And so they finally loosened the purse-strings. I imagine Hooch is in transports of joy?"
"Very much so." Minerva said with a smile. "We're to get a set of Comet 260's for the children to learn on, and all the teams will be getting Nimbus 2000's." The school maintained brooms for the teams, to keep the playing field level, as not everyone would be able to afford a top-of-the-line broom.
Severus laughed out loud at that. "You cheeky cat! So that's why you did it. Any way to get the boy what he needs to play properly, without showing favoritism!"
Minerva smirked. "I've no idea what you're talking about, Severus. The teams have needed new brooms for a good long while. Their brooms are in worse shape than the ones the children use to learn on!"
"I know. Still, well played, Minerva. Almost Slytherin of you!"
Minerva went pink in the cheeks. "I'll thank you not to insult me, Severus!" She scolded, though her tone lacked any true anger.
"The next match is going to be ... interesting." Severus allowed. "When will the brooms be delivered?"
"Day after tomorrow." Minerva told him. "Plenty of time for the teams to practice before the first match."
Different Rivalry