"I also started compiling a lot of what we've learned in a manual for the future hires. Paired with Angelina's growing runic dictionary, it should-" Hannah continued before getting interrupted by an overly excited voice coming out of the command stone she used as a paperweight.
"Hey guys! You'll never believe what we found under a toilet seat!"
As it turned out, Hogwarts was not the only magical school filled with secret passages.
Harry was bored out of his mind.
The scant rays of light passing between the thick black curtains kept the classroom in a depressing gloom. Harry was not really paying attention as Snape was droning on once more, explaining in excruciating detail the principle behind non-vocal casting. Again. For the third time in the last hour.
He briefly wondered if taking Potions with Slughorn instead would have been a better experience. At least he could have tried to win the luck elixir he'd heard about... Not that he was good enough a potionner to win in the first place. From what he'd heard, a Slytherin had pocketed it. Some things never changed.
His first lesson with Dumbledore had come and gone on the first week-end after they got back to the castle. Though he still wasn't sure as to why they needed to see memories of Voldemort and his family, he had to admit there was something bothering him about what he saw. Like he was missing something important, something he should know, but try as he might, he couldn't figure out what bothered him so...
After a week, the only things coming to mind when he thought back to those memories were a really creepy eleven-year-old Tom Riddle and a Dumbledore with the delicacy of Hagrid in a potion shop. He had not spent two sleepless nights thinking of the similarities between Riddle and him, thank you very much.
Even discussing what he saw with Ron and Hermione did not help. His attempts to retell the content of the memories of another person only managed to confuse him further. He'd at least found the time to share everything with them. Like the prophecy.
Ron had been both relieved and furious after discovering what Mr. Weasley had been guarding when he was attacked. Mr. Weasley was frozen between life and death, without any prospect of recovery, not to protect a weapon, but a sketchy prophecy made by none other than Trelawney?
Yeah, he would have been pretty pissed too.
Who was he kidding? He was pissed. Mr. Weasley was a good man who didn't deserve any of this. And now Mrs. Weasley was like a shadow of herself, her worry, sadness and sleepless nights always noticeable, even when she put on a brave front for them and kept smiling.
None of this was fair.
Ron had vented for a bit and Harry had listened silently while Hermione held him. He suddenly stopped mid-rant to face him, his freckled face and calculating eyes more resolute than he had ever seen him.
"Dad almost got killed to stop You-Know-Who. I never knew my uncles because of the bastard and he won't stop until he's killed every single one of us. It's more than time we put him down for good. I'm with you until the end, mate."
Since then, Ron had been full of a newfound and almost frightening intensity. While the daily afternoon training sessions of the combat team had started out like an extension of last year's DA lessons, he had turned them into brutal military-style exercises.
That's when the reality of what they were doing really hit him.They were turning into soldiers. They weren't kids getting in way over their heads and barely scraping by anymore. They were preparing to fight and end the war of their parents. Teaching them to defend themselves was one thing but this? He wouldn't escape facing Voldemort since he kept chasing him but he didn't want to send his crew against Death Eaters.
Bollocks, why couldn't they have normal worries like quidditch and girls? Even just for one year? That'd be nice...
Deep in his thoughts, Harry never noticed Snape's droning voice had stopped until his chair sprang to life, reared up and threw him to the ground. Snickers and half-whispered insults briefly filled the room as Snape waited for them to die out.
"Unless one of you miraculously managed to transcend my expectations and cast a silent confusion charm on Potter, it seems that our ever-slothful celebrity decided he could dispense himself from this lesson." Snape said in an icy tone as he turned to look down back at Harry.
"Five points from Gryffindor. The Dark Arts are not to be underestimated and I will not tolerate daydreaming in this class. Was I clear enough for you this time Potter? Or would you rather spend your evenings in detention?"
Harry bit back the retort threatening to come out. As pleasant as the thought of taking the piss out of Snape was, he had better things to do with his evenings than scrubbing cauldrons...
It would be fun though...
But instead of letting his instincts get the better of him, Harry simply stood back up and put his chair back in place.
"Yes sir. Very clear."
"As I thought." Snape said with a tone of finality before turning around. He walked back toward his desk in great strides. Without stopping, he made the barely readable writings on the board vanish with a flick of his wand and addressed the class. "You will write forty inches on the ways to differentiate and combat dark spirits without verbal incantations for Tuesday. Dismissed."
Soon, Snape disappeared through the small door at the end of the room. Bolting up from his seat as if he was mounted on a spring, Harry picked up his bag with haste. In a practised motion, he threw his things in it as quickly as he could before closing it and walking quickly toward the exit, Ron and Seamus hot on his heels. Bad enough he still had Snape after dropping Potions, he wouldn't spend more time than needed in his classroom.