Late Friday evening, I went down to Hagrid’s hut for a proper talk and a visit. We had both been caught up with our teaching throughout the week, so the weekend had been the only time to suit us. I stopped in front of his hut and paused, suddenly nervous. While Hagrid had seemed to be happy to see me again... I hadn’t spoken with him for a long time either and he had been more than a teacher. He had been a friend as well. What if he was secretly angry with me?
Only one way to find out. Taking a deep breath, I rapped on the door and waited, grinning at Fang’s loud bellows and Hagrid’s shouts of, “Down, Fang, DOWN! I need ter open the door!” At least some things hadn’t changed, after all.
Moments later the door opened and Hagrid’s large face looked out at me, surrounded by his bushy black hair and beard. When he recognised me, he instantly broke into a grin. “Harry!” he exclaimed, grabbing me in a one-armed hug that nearly crushed me; I might have grown over the years but I was still nowhere near tall enough to defend myself against Hagrid’s enthusiasm. “Yeh came!”
It was my turn to grin then. “Of course I came! I said I would, didn’t I?”
“It’s good ter see yeh, Harry,” Hagrid continued, opening the door wider so I could come in. “Good ter see yeh!” He chuckled as Fang leapt up, placed his large paws on my shoulders and proceeded to happily wash my face when I came in. “Fang!”
“It’s good to see you too, Hagrid,” I replied, as I sat down and looked around. The place hadn’t changed much since I’d been here last, except Hagrid had got a new bedspread, coloured a deep twilight blue. “Present from Madame Maxime?” I asked innocently, gesturing towards his bed.
I watched, amused, as Hagrid went bright red. “Yeh could say that,” he muttered and I got the distinct impression that I was meant to change the subject -- fast.
“It’s strange without Ron and Hermione, isn’t it?” I asked, placing my elbows on the table and supporting my head in my hands, not caring if it looked childish or not. I felt like thinking dark, depressing thoughts at that moment.
Hagrid nodded. “Sure is,” he agreed. “Strange not havin’ the three o’ yeh together and plottin’ somethin’ or other,” he added and I sighed. “Cheer up, Harry -- yeh’ll see them soon.”
“I know,” I replied. “But it’s strange not really knowing anyone here and making conversation with former teachers is harder than it looks.” Hagrid laughed, completely unsympathetic, and I glared at him, causing him to laugh harder.
“I had ter do it, didn’ I?” he asked and I nodded. “Yeh can do it, then, if I could.”
I shrugged. “Let’s hope so.” Hagrid tossed a cushion at me for my dismal attitude and I ducked, yelping in surprise and causing Fang to leap on me enthusiastically, which set Hagrid roaring with laughter.
We talked well into the night, drank tea, managed to eat Hagrid’s rock cakes (in my case, anyway) and talked about everything and anything under the sun, including Ron and Hermione’s jobs and lives in general, my first week of teaching and questions from me about teaching that I hadn’t felt comfortable asking anyone else. When I mentioned Jonathan Granger, Hagrid replied that he’d met him earlier that week when he’d visited his hut and he seemed to be a good kid. When I mentioned that Hermione had given him some lessons before coming here, Hagrid grinned.
“That’s our Hermione,” he said, nodding. “She’ll never change.”
And then of course, I had to bring up Callidus Riddle. I wasn’t surprised when Hagrid’s face visibly darkened.
“Yeh be careful of him, Harry,” he told me sternly. “There’s somethin’ not righ’ abou’ him an’ I don’ jus’ mean his name. There’s somethin’...” He paused, obviously searching for the right word and finally said, “...wrong with him.”
I nodded. “I’ve felt it too. It’s like he has Malfoy’s attitude or something, but he’s more... dangerous, somehow.” I shivered. “I’m keeping an eye on him, no matter what anyone tells me. I don’t trust him.”
“Be careful, Harry,” Hagrid said seriously and I wasn’t happy to see the worry in his eyes. “Be very careful.”
It was pitch black when I went back to the castle and it was hard to remember that I wouldn’t get into trouble for being out after dark. As I walked towards my rooms, I became aware that I was being watched. Looking around, I saw a dark figure near the end of the hall, leaning against the wall and simply watching me. I stiffened.
I met Snape’s midnight eyes squarely, as the minutes trickled by and neither of us moved. Relief surged through me when Snape finally broke the stare and walked away, his robes billowing behind him. I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking, What is it with Slytherins, me and staring this week? Shaking my head, I unlocked my door and went inside, but it was a while before I managed to get to sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw dark eyes in my mind.
* * *
“Harry? Harry, are you feeling all okay?”
I blinked, finally realising that Lavender had been trying to get my attention for the past five minutes. “What? Oh. I’m finally fine. I’m just thinking, that’s all.” I took my eyes away from Snape quickly, hoping that she hadn’t seen who I had been staring at. But I looked at her in time to see her eyes flicker from Snape to myself and I knew she was wondering what was going on. I immediately began coming up with an excuse, but thankfully for me, she came up with her own.
“Snape hasn’t been... bothering you, has he?” she asked me quietly, her eyes serious and full of concern. Relief coursed through me so quickly at her words that I felt alarmingly weak. Oh, thank God for Snape making it clear that he had hated me when I had been a student here; it made all the slips so much easier to explain away.
I managed to get out a short laugh, which seemed to surprise her. Clearly, she hadn’t been expecting it. “It depends on what you consider to be ‘bother’ from him. Mostly it’s just been snarky comments, much like what it used to be, only this time he can’t take points of Gryffindor for my apparent insolence. It’s nothing I can’t handle,” I assured her. “I know enough about handling Snape to last me a lifetime.” You have no idea just how much I know. It’d probably repulse and horrify you on exactly how much I know.
Lavender raised an eyebrow, but her expression was one of sympathy. “It must be terrible. Typical Snape; can’t even try and get a decent working relationship with you. Has to hold onto all the old grudges.” Luckily, she didn’t notice how pale I went, or else I would have had to answer some very awkward questions. “You know, if it gets too bad you can always go to Dumbledore,” she added helpfully.
I nodded, trying to find a polite way to change the subject. Perhaps she sensed my wishes, for she tactfully changed the subject by handing me The Daily Prophet, which I started reading, while she started talking to Professor Sinistra.
My breakfast finished, I stood up, planning on checking to see if my requested Grindylow had come in yet. I had been given the address of a helpful contact from Lupin, who had assured me she was extremely reliable and very helpful. I was counting on it. I was almost to the end of the table, when Madam Hooch stopped me. I blinked, wondering what I had done, before remembering I didn’t have to really worry about that anymore.
“Harry,” she greeted me and I almost jumped, before returning the greeting. It still gave me a jolt to have my old teachers call me by my first name, even though it was common courtesy. “Quidditch Tryouts are on Wednesday,” she informed me, acting as if I had already known about it.
I was flummoxed. “They are?” She nodded, waiting expectantly. A pause, before I finally ventured to ask, “And why do I need to know?”
She sighed and her golden eyes were full of exasperation. “And I want you there, to give my your opinions!” I continued to stare blankly at her and she rolled her eyes. “There hasn’t been a Seeker as good as you in any of the House Teams since you left. You could have played for England, if you hadn’t come here.” I noted the faint hint of disapproval in her voice, that led me to believe that she considered it a great shame that I hadn’t chosen Quidditch over teaching. “You know talent when you see it, by now, and I want to see exactly how much you remember.” She paused and I, realising I had no other choice, nodded. “Good. Meet me at the Quidditch Pitch before lunch is over. Be prepared for a large crowd.”
And with a nod, she turned back to her plate. It took me a moment to regain my senses, before I blinked and continued down the table to get out of the Great Hall. I must admit, I was feeling a certain degree of excitement at the prospect of seeing Quidditch again and as a consequence, almost didn’t see Snape looking at me as I passed him. I only stopped when he placed a hand on my wrist and forced me to stop walking. I looked down at him and fought not to shiver.
“Excited at the prospect of seeing Quidditch again, Potter?” Snape refused to call me by my first name, just as I refused to call it by his. The other teachers had given up on trying to get us to be reasonably civil to each other, declaring it to be a lost cause. I gritted my teeth, realising again just how well Snape knew me (and considering out history, that was a fairly foolish realisation), and shrugged in answer. He bared his teeth in a dangerous grin. “I know you better than that. You’re practically leaping for joy inside yourself.” Damn, he did know me well. Double damn.
“Ever think of refereeing a few times?” Snape’s voice was kept low and his face was completely innocent when he spoke, although I knew better. He was never innocent. I stared at him and he chuckled. It had honestly never occurred to me, but now that I thought about it, it didn’t seem that bad a prospect. I shrugged again in answer.
Moments trickled by and I suddenly realised that a few students and teachers were beginning to look at us rather curiously. “Will you let go of my hand, now?” I asked in an emotionless voice. Snape gave me a hard look, before doing so. Shaking my robe sleeve back into place, I nodded to him curtly, before turning and starting to walk again.
“Oh, and Potter?” Snape called, keeping his voice low enough so that I alone could hear. I was only three steps away, so I heard him plainly. I stopped, but didn’t turn around. “It’s not polite to stare.”
There was no appropriate answer to that without succumbing to severe cursing, so I simply kept on walking.
* * *
Madam Hooch had been quite right on her prediction that there would most likely be a crowd on Wednesday; the topic of Quidditch was on every mouth from the morning she had informed me about the tryouts. I ended up serving out my first detentions because of students repeatedly passing notes that concerned what their senders would be doing for the Tryouts, and I even discovered one Third-Year hiding Quidditch Through The Ages inside his textbook and reading it with full concentration, while apparently being enthralled in the topic of Manticores. I made a mental note to see if there were any smaller versions of the textbook in stock.
“Really!” I burst out on Tuesday afternoon, my patience finally stretched to the absolute limit. I brandished another copy of Quidditch Through the Ages at the unfortunate Fifth-Year who had been caught reading it inside her textbook -- my third one that day. “Look, I know you’re all excited about the tryouts tomorrow but Quidditch isn’t going to pass your O.W.L.S for you!” I glared at the cowering student, who meeped in fear. “Now, how many more of these are hiding in this classroom?” I rapped out, tapping a foot impatiently against the ground.
No one answered, but I saw sudden fear on many faces. That alone confirmed my suspicions.
“Then I’ll find out for myself,” I said grimly, before taking out my wand. Several students flinched, before I snapped out, “Accio!” For a moment, nothing happened... and then six copies of the book zoomed out from inside six textbooks and landed on the desk in front of me. I frowned and my eyes narrowed in warning. The students in question turned deathly pale.
I took several deep breaths. before speaking “I cannot even begin to describe the disappointment I now feel.” The entire class instantly became ashamed; while not all of them had been secretly reading the book, not one of them had really been paying attention in the class either. I glared at the six students one by one, before coming back to the girl I had originally caught, who looked positively sick with fear at this point. “By right, I should ban you from going to the tryouts--” The seven faces immediately became ashen with disbelief and dismay. “-- but even I’m not that cruel,” I finished calmly. “Instead, you will all report to me for detention Thursday evening.” Relief radiated from them like a wave. “And now,” I ordered, piling the books up and carrying them to my desk, “may we attempt some work before the class ends?”
The entire class gave me their full attention for the remaining class time, something that hadn’t happened since my first class with them. I considered it a miracle and didn’t even give them extra homework in the end.
It also didn’t escape my attention that there was some hurry to get out of the room. I sighed, but didn’t allow myself to feel guilty. It was hard to remind myself that I was the actual teacher, that it was me who had the command here. It was almost difficult to even give out detentions, from my own memory of them, so I had learned to wait until I was intensely angry before giving them out. It was easier to forget what they were when I was too angry to care.
But I knew how the students felt; if I hadn’t been chosen as Seeker for the Gryffindor Team in my first year, no doubt I would have been as insanely excited as they were about tryouts. I would have probably been one of those trying to read Quidditch Through The Ages inside my textbook, if I was truthful to myself. It wouldn’t exactly be a good thing to tell my students because I was supposed to be setting them an example as a teacher, but there had to be a way of showing them that I knew and understood why they were all insanely excited about the tryouts...
My eyes fell on the pile of Quidditch Through The Ages on my desk. I picked one of them up and leafed through it thoughtfully, a smile gradually spreading across my face...
Three minutes later my next class crept in; Fourth-Year Gryffindors, watching me cautiously, obviously having been filled in about my hostile temperament from the students who had just left. I was at my desk, getting out their (frankly, horrible) summaries on Grindylows. I looked up and raised my eyebrows. “Is there something wrong out there?” I asked mildly. They shook their heads. “Well, come in then! I don’t really bite, you know!” Shaking my head, I went back to my last-minute correcting. Feeling slightly more hopeful by my dry response, the Gryffindors hurried in and sat down.
I did normal class for the first ten minutes, returning their summaries with a good many corrections and several warnings for better work in future, which were pretended to be heeded. Then I put down my book and leaned against my desk, watching them for a moment. They stared at me (while a few stared at their red-marked summaries in dismay) with wide eyes, obviously wondering if I was going mad. I smiled.
“Just out of interest,” I remarked casually, making sure that every word I spoke was completely normal. “Who’s going to try out tomorrow?” The instant the words were out of my mouth, about three quarters of the class had their hands up, while the remaining quarter said they were going down to support them. I nodded and thought for a moment. “What positions are you all trying out for?” I asked in genuine interest. “Madam Hooch didn’t tell me what positions were free in any of the House Teams.”
I was put right in a matter of moments; a Keeper was needed for the Gryffindor Team, as well as two Chasers and the Seeker. Apparently there had been many Seventh-Years on the team last year. I perked up when they told me a Seeker was needed; I was still faithful to my old position. I went through all those that had put their hands up, asking them what their desired position was. About seven people were going to try out for the Seeker position and I noticed all of them went slightly red at the approval I gave them.
“No doubt you’ve all been informed of what happened here in the last class,” I said dryly, holding up a copy of Quidditch Through The Ages for them to see. There were many embarrassed faces then (from those who had siblings or cousins in the previous class that had been caught), as well as many sniggers and muffled laughs. I smiled then, before beginning to flick through the book. “I really don’t know how so many copies of the book suddenly appeared,” I commented, looking at the familiar passages that I had read once myself, so many times I could probably recite them in my sleep now. “When I was here, there was only the one copy and the waiting list was practically three miles long -- it was pure hell waiting...” The class waited patiently for me to finish my ramble and jumped when I suddenly snapped the book shut. “So,” I continued with a smile, “as you’ve all gone Quidditch-mad, I’ve decided to test you on it.” Every face went blank as they stared at me, deciding there and then that I’d finally gone crackers.
For the rest of the class we talked about Quidditch, with me becoming up-to-date on the status of the current Teams; who was good, who was bad and who was utterly hopeless. I read a few passages out of Quidditch Through The Ages and was forced to explain more of the complex moves numerous times, especially the Seeker moves for the seven hopefuls. I relived some of my own matches and discovered that the students really wanted to here about the ones where something particularly violent happened, usually to me. I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or worried about them.
The students really wanted to hear about the matches against Slytherin, for the rivalry between the two Houses had died down a considerable bit since the war and they wanted to know about the rivalry in the ‘old days’. When I exclaimed that I wasn’t exactly old yet, they only grinned at me, causing me to suddenly feel that I was getting old -- and I was only twenty-two...
Everyone groaned when the class ended and I eventually had to force them out and threatened to fail them all in the next test if they didn’t leave, for I wanted to go to lunch within a reasonable amount of time. I was in a rather good mood when I made my way towards the Great Hall. It had been nice to talk normally to them all and it had shown them all that I was a normal person and not just a teacher-figure... or, at least, I hoped so. I wasn’t exactly sure what they all thought of me and I knew having these repeated mood swings certainly wasn’t helping. But I had a really good feeling that today I had taken a step in the right direction.
There was one repercussion from the unconventional class, however, that I hadn’t expected. I’d forgotten how quickly word tended to fly around Hogwarts and discovered that every class I had from after lunch, to the class before lunch on Wednesday, wanted me to have the exact same sort of class with them. Grimly realising that I had backed myself into a corner, I grudgingly agreed, but added that work had to be done for the first ten minutes beforehand and then Quidditch could be talked about. This compromise was greeted with large amounts of enthusiasm, much to my amusement. Even the First-Years demanded this, and they really weren’t in with much of a chance in the Tryouts with so many older students with far greater amounts of experience -- unless they somehow acted like I had in my first year, which, admittedly, was extremely unlikely.
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