Harry heard the students assemble and he nearly bounded from his study. He scanned them as he stood at the top of the pulpit stair. Trotting down, they looked up at him with bright eyes and smiles. He smiled back. "Good morning, everyone."

"Good morning, Professor Potter," they chorused. He stopped. He hadn't expected that. Ducking his head to hide a smile, he drew up to the center of the room. "All have books, have you?" He suddenly changed his mind about the lesson. These were all fifth years and he wanted to give them something more substantial than just blocks. "Everyone put your books aside and…ah…let's move all these desks and chairs, shall we?"

The room erupted in a chaos of chair legs squealing and desks groaning across the wood floor. The students all stood anxiously, glancing at one another with anticipating smiles. Here was Harry Potter; Hero of the Wizarding World; Slayer of Voldemort. How could this not be good?

"I've decided to scrap the lesson I planned and try something else." He walked away from the students, pulled his wand, and whirled back. All of them lifted into the air, shocked that a teacher would have done such to them.

Harry lowered them slowly and once they reached the floor they all looked at one another chattering vigorously.

"Sir!" cried a tall, lank boy with sandy blond hair. "How where you able to lift all of us?"

"Is that how you defeated Voldemort?" asked a short-haired girl. All of them wanted to hear.

"Actually, he never expected me to pull a Muggle gun."

The room fell into utter silence.

Harry laughed. "I'm just kidding. Of course I didn't. But that's not far wrong. To defend against the dark arts, you must always use the unexpected. Certain blocks will be obvious as well as certain curses you will throw. You've got to come back with something entirely different. Throw your opponent off. Who wants to volunteer to duel me?"

A surprising number of hands rose. Harry chose a girl with braids standing in the front row. She looked back at her friends and stepped forward. "What's your name?"

"Felecia Rosencrantz, sir."

"Well, Miss Rosencrantz. This is what I want you to do. I want you to throw any disarming curse you know against me and be prepared to come back with another. Okay?"

"I don't want to hurt you, Professor."

"Don't worry. You'll never get a chance to."

Her face screwed up in concentration and she lifted her wand. She threw her arm forward and yelled, "Expelli-!"

Harry flicked his wand-his curse non-verbal-and above her, a very large ice cream sundae appeared and dropped on her head. The room erupted with laughter. She was so shocked she never sent the second curse. She stood, shoulders stooped, melting ice cream dribbling down her back.

Harry swished his wand and instantly cleaned her. "Well," he said chuckling. "You get the idea. You're a good sport, Rosencrantz. But you see, that was so entirely unexpected that even if your opponent was bent on killing you, the surprise factor would have been such to give you that edge, those few seconds you would need to either defeat them or get away."

"But sir!" said the sandy-haired boy again.

"Yes-ah-?"

"Fenwick, Professor. Rupert Fenwick. If Voldemort is defeated why do we have to defend against the dark arts? There's no one left."

"Oh Fenwick. That's where you're wrong. Doesn't anyone remember why Professor Dumbledore is famous?"

Everyone was silent for a moment until a short girl with very long black hair in the back of the room spoke up, hand raised. "Serenity Hudson, sir. It's because he defeated another Dark Wizard."

"Very good, Hudson. Ten points to Ravenclaw. Not many seem to remember that because it was over fifty years ago. And no one may well remember Voldemort fifty years from now, because they may have to contend with some other lunatic who wants to be a Dark Wizard or Witch. And that one may be standing among you right now."

Several eyes went to a boy near the back standing alone. Harry noticed a Slytherin patch on his robes. Uh oh.

"So…so we are constantly on the alert. Despite whatever the Ministry has to say."

"Excuse me, Professor," said a husky girl with pasty skin. "But my father works in the Ministry and he says-"

"No offense to your father, Miss-"

"Grittney. Jane Grittney."

"No offense, Miss Grittney, but I haven't had a lot of good experience with the Ministry. They haven't always been forthcoming with the truth. Trust your instincts, I say. And your friends. They'll be your best allies when it counts."

"Like Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger!" said someone from the middle of the crowd.

Harry smiled. "Absolutely. I trusted them with my life and it was a good thing. So…everyone pair up. And I want you to hurl the absolutely most ridiculous curses and hexes you can think of-nothing permanent, mind. Let's see what you can do to surprise your opponent."

The students paired up, all except for the Slytherin boy in the back. Harry sauntered through the students and reached him. "Hello, there. And you are-?"

"Are you scared of me?" His voice had an all-too-familiar lilt to it, like a certain blond Slytherin he was spending a lot of time with of late.

"That's not the answer to my question. I don't want to take points from Slytherin-"

"Malcolm Treeloft."

"Well, Treeloft. Shall we duel?"

"Pleasure." Malcolm raised his wand. But instead of some silly curse, he threw a breath-quelling curse-or tried to. Harry expected something of the kind and blocked it-and then sent a water deluge on top of him, soaking him to the bone. He fell hard on his backside. Students nearby laughed.

"Something unexpected, Malcolm. I certainly expected you to do something as you did. You'll have to work on that. And your anger. I'm not your enemy. I'm just your teacher."

"You're a Muggle lover," he said from the floor.

The room quieted and Harry looked down at him. Silently he offered him a hand up and the boy reluctantly took it. But when he gained his feet Harry pulled him in, tightening his grip on the boy's hand. "I know you consider that an insult," he said close to the boy's face, "but I don't. But just so you know I don't like the attitude; fifteen points from Slytherin. And a detention." He locked gazes with the boy and finally released him. "I'll discuss it after class, Treeloft. The rest of you, continue with your duel."

It was something of a circus atmosphere, with strange things appearing and odd hexes flying in the air. Harry smiled at it, casting a glance occasionally at Malcolm Treeloft and worrying over him.

Finally Harry, laughing harder than he had in a long time, waved his hands in the air. There was sherbet and toffees and mud and slime and all manner of odd objects and foodstuffs smeared on the floor. "Scourgify!" he said, waving his wand to clean it. "That's enough for today. My classroom can't take much more of this! Out with you. Write six inches of ideas for hexes and curses that would throw your opponent off guard. You may use any example you performed or saw today. Next week!"

Everyone left with smiles and waves. A gaggle of girls giggled looking back at him and soon they had all gone. All except a scowling Malcolm Treeloft. He moved sullenly toward Harry, his hands deep in his pockets.

Harry sat on the edge of his desk and leaned toward the boy. "Just what do you have against Muggles, Treeloft? So many of your school chums have Muggle parents or grandparents."

"I don't have any chums."

Harry felt another blaze of warning in his chest. "But honestly, Malcolm. Tell me. Where does this mistrust come from?"

"What difference does it make? What's my detention? I'll be late for my next class."

"Your detention is to come to me in my study at five o'clock prepared to tell me all about your Muggle problem. Or you can write an essay about it. Your choice."

"Fine… Sir." He turned on his heel and hurriedly left.

Harry sighed from the bottom of his soul. "Oh I do hope you don't get Dark on me, Malcolm. I don't want to ever imagine having to kill you."


On to Chapter Thirteen
"Uninvited Guests"

Back to Chapter Eleven
"Potions"

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