FIC: Phoenix Rising, Part 24 of 37

[geri_chan]

Title: Phoenix Rising, Part 24 of 37
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Word count: ~9,630
Warning: AU; my own version of Year 6 (was written pre-HBP).
Author's notes: {} Indicates character's unspoken thoughts
Disclaimer: No money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.
Sequel to: Always, Summer Vacation, For Old Time's Sake, Three's a Crowd, Return of the Raven, Phoenix Reborn
Summary: Draco, Ron, and Harry are sentenced to detention--and to working on a project together in Professor Blackmore's class.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23

***

"Thank Merlin!" Damien sighed, sliding limply down to the floor in relief, and Brad, Crabbe, and Goyle vigorously echoed that sentiment, as did the remaining Gryffindors, except for Hermione. Dylan, giddy with relief himself, laughed a little at the irony of the situation: for once, Gryffindor and Slytherin were in complete accord, united in their fear of Professor Blackmore.

"Rosier's losing it," Crabbe muttered as he watched Dylan standing in the middle of the room giggling to himself.

"So who can blame him?" Damien pointed out, and Crabbe nodded in agreement. "Man, I nearly wet myself when Blackmore walked in and saw what happened to Bane!"

"You too, mate?" Dean Thomas asked, apparently forgetting in his relief that Damien was a Slytherin, and thus, the enemy and not his "mate." "I think I DID wet myself!" And Damien and his housemates likewise seemed to forget that Thomas was a "Mudblood," and laughed, not mockingly, but good-naturedly. Then all the children were laughing together in slightly hysterical relief.

All but Hermione, that is. "It's not funny!" she protested. "Aren't you worried at all what Blackmore will do to them?"

"Better them than us," Damien declared, and Crabbe and Goyle nodded emphatically. The Gryffindors hesitated to say something so callous, but neither did they seem eager to rush to their friends' defense.

"Well, Ron and Harry should have known better than to do something like that, especially after you tried to warn them," Ginny Weasley finally said. "Besides, I'm sure Professor Blackmore won't REALLY kill them," she added, although she didn't sound very sure of that.

"Oh no, she won't kill them," Dylan agreed. "I've heard my mother's stories about Professor Blackmore, and I'm sure she would consider a quick death to be much too merciful a punishment..."

Hermione gave Dylan and his companions a slightly accusing look. "Aren't you worried what she'll do to your friend Draco?"

"Not worried enough to get between him and Blackmore when she's in a rage," Dylan replied dryly, and his housemates nodded in agreement. "Besides, Professor Snape said, 'no permanent damage'..."

"He asked her not to do any permanent damage," Longbottom pointed out timidly, "but she never actually agreed to it."

"You're right," Dylan acknowledged. "Still, she never killed any students that I heard of while my mother was a student here. Then again, none of them ever changed Bane into a bunny rabbit..."

"Dylan!" Hermione exclaimed, looking even more upset.

"Hey, if you want to go rescue Potter and Weasley, be my guest," Damien said. "It's your funeral. But don't expect any help from us; you Gryffindors are supposed to be the noble ones, after all."

Hermione bristled a little at that, and her friends looked a little shamefaced. She looked pale but determined, and Dylan was afraid she might really try to take on Blackmore by herself, so he hastily said, "Don't be an idiot, Granger! You'll only get in trouble yourself if you try to interfere. Besides, I'm sure Dumbledore won't really let her harm a student." {At least, I hope not,} he added silently. "She'll just give them some really nasty detention, that's all."

"Probably involving toothbrushes," Goyle muttered.

"Didn't Snape make Ron scrub bedpans in the hospital wing with a toothbrush once?" Dean Thomas asked Ginny Weasley, who nodded.

"He probably got the idea from her," Dylan said. "Snape said she gave the same punishment to my dad once, when he was a kid."

"Really?" Thomas asked, looking interested. "I wonder how many other punishment ideas he got from her?"

"Bedpans, that's nothing," Crabbe said. "She made me and Goyle's dads scrub the entire dungeon with toothbrushes!"

The other children, Slytherin and Gryffindor alike, seemed intrigued by that statement, and clamored to hear more. Crabbe and Goyle looked gratified to be the center of attention for once, even if half of their audience were Gryffindors, and happily recounted the story of how their fathers had once attempted to summon a water elemental as a prank, and instead summoned a mud elemental, which had then broken free and splattered mud all over the dungeon. Dylan laughed, not just at the story (although it was funny), but at the sight of a bunch of Gryffindors and Slytherins sitting and conversing together like bosom buddies. Hermione caught his eye and smiled, so no doubt she was thinking the same thing. Dylan gave her a quick wink, and laughed again, thinking that it was a very good thing that Draco wasn't here right now! But then again, this would not be happening if Draco had been present, and he was a little surprised to find that Crabbe and Goyle weren't really so bad when Malfoy wasn't around. Perhaps the Gryffindors weren't really so bad either, when Potter and Weasley weren't around to egg them on against the Slytherins. Well, hopefully Blackmore would keep all three boys too busy to make trouble in either House for quite some time...

***

Meanwhile, in Blackmore's office, a disgruntled Bane was sitting on his mistress's desk, twitching his nose irritably as the three boys squirmed under Blackmore's glare.

"All right," she said sternly. "What curses did you boys use?"

"A R-rat-Face H-hex," Ron stuttered. "I wanted Malfoy to look like the rat he is!" Then he gulped and fell silent as all three teachers gave him baleful looks.

"Potter?" Blackmore asked sharply.

"A Curse of Ill Wishing," Harry muttered.

"Where did you learn that?" McGonagall asked, sounding startled. "That isn't taught in any of your classes!"

"I read about it in a book," Harry said, deciding not to mention that he had come across it in the set of textbooks Lupin and Sirius had given him last Christmas, since he didn't want to get them in trouble, too. Of course the books were intended to teach how to defend against such spells, but they mentioned enough about how the spell worked that Harry had figured out how to cast it.

Blackmore gave him a suspicious look, but just turned to Draco, and said, "Malfoy?"

"An Impediment Curse," he said sullenly.

"I don't really see how those three curses could have combined to turn Bane into a bunny," McGonagall said in a puzzled voice.

Snape gave Ron a look of contempt. "Obviously, Weasley's incompetence must have altered the spell somehow. His attempts at magic usually have disastrous results."

"Not since I replaced my broken wand," Ron muttered, but under his breath.

"He tried to turn Malfoy into a rat," Snape continued in his cold voice, "or at least make him resemble one, but he cast the spell wrong, and ended up with a rabbit instead of a rat."

"It was a Rat-FACE Hex, not a more powerful transfiguration spell," McGonagall said with a frown. "And why couldn't we undo the hex?"

"The three spells must have somehow combined and had an unexpected effect," Snape replied, a thoughtful look on his face. "It might help if we could see exactly how the spells became combined together. Branwen?"

Blackmore nodded and took out her wand. She pointed it at Bane, and said, "Aperio!" The bunny began to glow with an eerie purplish-black light, and there were glowing strands of light--red, blue, and a sickly yellowish-green--interwoven around his body like a tangled net of colored threads. The three teachers looked down at the bunny and frowned.

"Look at how they're all tangled together!" Snape said. "No wonder we couldn't reverse the spell."

Harry knew it would be wiser to remain quiet, as his teachers seemed to have momentarily forgotten about him, but his curiosity got the better of him. "What spell was that?" he asked timidly. "What are all those lights?"

Blackmore looked up at him, but she looked more worried than angry. "Aperio is called the Revelation Spell--in Latin it means 'to reveal or make clear.' It makes magical auras visible to the human eye. Each of these threads is one of your curses," she said, pointing to the glowing threads of light.

Malfoy had an odd, almost frightened look on his face, as he stared wide-eyed at the glowing bunny. Harry gave him a puzzled look, then asked, "And what is that purplish-black light?"

"That is Bane's personal aura," Blackmore replied, then smiled slightly at the startled look on Harry's face. "He is my familiar, after all; he is a magical creature of sorts."

"This is the Impediment Curse," Snape said, pointing to the red thread. "And this, the supposed Rat-Face Hex." He pointed at the blue thread. "And this, the Curse of Ill Wishing." He pointed at the yellowish thread, and frowned again. "I think I see what has happened now. The Curse of Ill Wishing worked all too well." He glared at Harry and said, "It is a powerful curse, Potter, and not to be flung about in childish games. It brings bad luck upon its victim, and is very difficult to break." He still looked angry, but confused and a little wary as well. "You should not have been able to cast it at your level, not just from having read about it in a book."

"I see," Blackmore murmured. "The ill wishing affected the other curses, enhancing them and bringing out the worst possible effects."

"It made not just the victim's face, but his entire body change into a rat, or rather, a rabbit," Snape continued. "And Impedimenta, when you think about it, is a freezing spell of sorts. Normally it just freezes the victim in place, leaving him unable to move." He scowled, perhaps recalling how Harry's father and Sirius had once used it on him as a child. "But in this case, combined with the Curse of Ill Wishing, it has served to freeze the effects of Weasley's hex, locking Bane into his rabbit form. That is why a simple Finite Incantatum spell was unable to reverse the effect."

Bane let out an anguished little squeal, and began thumping one of his hind feet on the table angrily. Harry turned pale and said, "He's not stuck in that form permanently, is he? Now that you know what happened, you can undo it, right?"

"Oh God, we're dead!" Ron said in a voice that was high and squeaky with fear. Malfoy said nothing, but he had turned deathly white.

Snape gave them a nasty grin, then said, "To restore Bane, we'll have to untangle the spell-threads, one by one. It should be difficult, but not impossible." He took out his wand and carefully touched it to the glowing red thread and muttered a brief incantation under his breath. He slowly lifted his wand, and the red thread clung to the wand and came away with it, slowly unraveling from around Bane's body. It got stuck a couple of times where it crossed with the blue thread, but Snape muttered again, and the thread came loose and continued to pull away from the rabbit's body. But then the thread reached a point where it was entangled with the yellow-green thread of the Curse of Ill Wishing, and suddenly it came free from the wand and snapped back to Bane's body like rubber band that had been pulled taught and then released. There was a brief, blinding flash of light, and Snape and the bunny were flung apart. Snape staggered backwards, crashing into a bookcase, and Bane skidded across the desk; he would have fallen over the edge if Blackmore had not quickly stepped forward and caught him.

She cradled the bunny against her chest and snapped, "Be careful, Severus!"

"I was trying to," Snape replied testily, rubbing his shoulder where it had struck the bookcase.

McGonagall said, "Obviously, it's going to take some time to figure out how to unravel the spells."

Bane let out an indignant squeal, as if to say, "You mean I'm stuck being a bunny for God knows how long?!"

Blackmore petted her familiar soothingly, but when she lifted her face to stare at her three errant students, her green eyes were filled with a cold fury. The three boys took a hasty step back. "Fifty--no, one hundred points from Gryffindor!" Blackmore said in a glacial voice, and Harry shuddered; he could almost feel the temperature in the room drop several degrees. "And fifty from Slytherin!"

Snape scowled furiously at that, but was clearly too fearful of her to object.

"And you will all write me an essay on the dangers of using curses irresponsibly. Two feet of parchment due the day after tomorrow. As for detention..." She hesitated and the three boys held their breath. She frowned and said, "I'm so angry that I can't think of a punishment fitting of your crime." Then she smiled, an evil smile worse than any Snape had ever given them. "But don't worry, I'll think of one in time." The boys began to tremble. "For now, you will report to the hospital wing every day afterschool and scrub bedpans until I decide what your punishment will be. With toothbrushes. If you run out of bedpans, you can scrub the toilets in the boys' bathrooms." She leaned forward and breathed in a menacing whisper, "And you had better hope we can cure Bane, because if we can't..." She drew a finger across her throat. Malfoy whimpered, and so did Ron. "Now get out of my sight!"

The boys didn't wait to be told twice; they fled from her office and didn't stop running until they had reached the end of the hall and gone up a flight of stairs. Then they paused and leaned against the wall, panting and trying to catch their breath.

"Merlin's Beard, I thought she'd kill us!" gasped Ron.

"She still might, if they can't change Bane back!" Malfoy said darkly. "This is all your fault, Weasley! It's your botched curse that turned him into a bunny!"

"If YOU hadn't--" Ron started to retort.

"Oh, shut up, both of you!" Harry shouted. "If they catch us fighting, we'll be in even more trouble!" Both Ron and Malfoy subsided into a sulky silence. Then something occurred to Harry, and he asked Malfoy, "Why were you looking at Bane so strangely, when Blackmore cast the Aperio spell?"

"Didn't you see his aura, Potter?" Malfoy demanded.

"Yeah, it was sort of purplish-black," Harry replied. "What of it?"

"Well, I suppose one can't expect a Muggle-born like you to know such things," Malfoy sneered condescendingly.

"Why, you--" Ron said, clenching his fists. Harry's temper flared as well, but suddenly he remembered Snape saying during his Occlumency lessons, "You must learn to control your emotions, Potter." He took a deep breath and placed a restraining hand on Ron's arm.

"Then why don't you enlighten me, Malfoy?" Harry asked quietly.

Malfoy looked confused, and a little disappointed that Harry didn't get mad, but he replied, "His aura is dark, nearly black. That's a sign of a Dark Creature."

Ron said, "Well, he's bad-tempered and all, but--"

"Not just mean or bad-tempered," Malfoy snapped, "but Dark, with a capital D! As in magical, as in he's not just a normal raven! Maybe he's not even a raven at all!"

"What do you mean, Malfoy?" Harry asked, puzzled and a little frightened.

Malfoy looked around nervously as if to make sure no one else was in earshot, then leaned forward and whispered, "She's had that bird since my dad was a kid. Shouldn't he be getting on in years by now? But he still looks young and healthy, and so does she, for that matter! She looks younger than Snape, but she's at least ten years older than him! They used to say that the Blackmores practiced the Dark Arts--"

"And how does this make them different from the Malfoys?" Ron muttered, but Harry shushed him.

Malfoy glared at Ron, but continued, "They used to say that the Blackmores had demon blood. The Slytherins of my father's time used to say that Bane was her demon familiar!"

"That's ridiculous!" Ron snorted. Then he looked at Harry and asked uncertainly, "Isn't it?"

"Maybe she knows some things about the Dark Arts," Harry said slowly, remembering the conversation he'd had with Blackmore about Snape's memories in the Pensieve, remembering how she had said that her father had tutored her in the Dark Arts so that she would be able to defend herself against such spells. "But surely she's no demon, and neither is Bane!"

"They used to say she had the power to summon demons," Malfoy insisted. "And how else do you explain Bane's aura and why Blackmore still looks so young?"

"But Dumbledore wouldn't let a demon into the school!" Harry protested.

"The old man is too softhearted to realize what she is!" Malfoy retorted. "Do you know that the Dark Lord sent three Death Eaters to kill her fifteen years ago? The next day, Aurors from the Ministry found them ripped up into itty-bitty little pieces! And Blackmore and Bane vanished, and didn't show up again till this past summer!"

"If she's fighting your dad's pals, the Death Eaters, then she's no demon!" Ron said, but he looked a little nauseous.

Harry felt a bit queasy himself, at the thought of the Death Eaters being turned into "itty-bitty little pieces," however evil they were. He knew that Blackmore's mysterious ally had killed the Death Eaters who had attacked her, but he had never heard the details before, and now he understood why Mrs. Weasley had not wanted Blackmore to discuss her disappearance with Harry and the other children. "She's not evil," he insisted, but his voice was a little shaky. Where had she disappeared to for all those years? Who was the mysterious ally who saved her and killed the Death Eaters? Maybe Malfoy was right, after all... Then he remembered that she had treated him kindly, talking to him about his mother last summer, and he remembered how after he had come to Sirius, frightened and confused about what he had seen in the Pensieve, she had gently explained to him about his father's hatred of the Dark Arts and how that had been the source of his animosity towards Snape. He remembered how fond she was of Sirius, Snape, and Lupin, and how pleased she was that the latter two had become a couple. He remembered how she had fought the Death Eaters at the Ministry and saved Sirius from falling through the veiled arch. He didn't know exactly what would have happened if Sirius had gone through it, but he instinctively sensed that it would have been very bad. "She's not a demon," he said more firmly.

Malfoy shrugged. "Think whatever you like, Potter, but don't say I didn't warn you!" Then he stomped off.

"What if Malfoy's right?" Ron asked fearfully.

"Even if he is, there's not much we can do about it," Harry pointed out. "It's not like we're powerful enough to defend ourselves against a demon. We'll just have to serve our detention and hope they can change Bane back."

"That's very reassuring," Ron muttered sarcastically as they headed to Gryffindor Tower.

***

Two days later, Harry, Ron, and Draco turned in their punishment essays to Professor Blackmore. Bane sat on Blackmore's desk, still in his bunny form, glaring at them and twitching his nose.

"I'm really, really sorry, Professor," Harry said in a chastened voice.

Blackmore no longer looked quite so angry, but neither did she look particularly forgiving. "I believe you, Mr. Potter--"

Harry winced; she was calling him "Mr. Potter" instead of "Harry," which was probably a bad sign.

"--but sometimes an apology is not enough. When you act without thinking, sometimes the consequences of your actions cannot be undone with mere words. What you have done to Bane is bad enough; what if you had hurt or killed him? What if it had not been Bane, but one of your classmates who was hit by the curses and seriously injured? What good would 'I'm sorry' do then?"

Harry flushed and hung his head; so did Ron. Draco merely looked sullen.

"Take your seats," Blackmore said curtly, and the boys hastened to obey. She gazed at the class silently for a moment, then said, "I've endured this ridiculous House rivalry since before I was your age, and I have had just about enough of it. You will learn to get along with each other, like it or not, or you will fail this class." The students stared back at her, anger and confusion in their eyes, which quickly changed to apprehension as she smiled in a way that boded ill for them. It was remarkably similar to the way Professor Snape smiled when he was about to pounce on a student's shortcomings or hand out detention.

"Your next assignment is to summon an air elemental. You have two weeks to research and prepare the runes, protective circle, incantation, and material components for the spell. However, this time I will assign your partners. Group number one: Miss Parkinson, Miss Bulstrode, Miss Patil, and Miss Brown."

"What?!" Pansy Parkinson and Parvati Patil exclaimed as Millicent Bulstrode and Lavender Brown glared at each other.

"Do you have any objections, Miss Parkinson, Miss Patil?" Blackmore asked in a cold voice, a very dangerous look in her eyes.

"No, Professor," they mumbled in sulky voices, gazing down at their desks, unable to meet her eyes.

"Good. Group number two: Mr. Nott, Mr. Zabini, Mr. Finnigan, and Mr. Thomas." The boys eyed each other with distaste, but made no protests. "Group number three: Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle, Miss Granger, and Mr. Longbottom." Crabbe and Goyle scowled furiously, but were much too cowed to object. Longbottom gulped and stared at Crabbe (who had once nearly choked him to death) nervously, while Hermione looked taken aback, but managed a brave, if rather forced, smile.

Meanwhile, Ron, Harry, and Draco were staring at each other in horror. Blackmore grinned in a positively evil way, and practically purred, "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Malfoy will form the final group."

"You can't make us work with that slimy git!" Ron wailed.

"You can't make me work with those Gryffindors!" Draco cried in outrage.

"I most certainly can," Blackmore said, with a great deal of satisfaction in her voice. "Ten points off both Gryffindor and Slytherin! Five for your insolence, and another five for being stupid enough to challenge me after your last little escapade."

The fierce rivalry and antipathy between the Houses seemed to temporarily override the boys' common sense. "But Malfoy is always out to get us," Ron protested. "He'll ruin the project just to spite us!"

"I'm not getting a failing grade because of Weasley's incompetence!" Draco snapped in response, curling his upper lip in a sneer.

"Make that twenty points!" snapped Blackmore. "Would you like to try for thirty?" The boys fell silent. "Good. Let me make this clear: your grade depends not just on successfully summoning the elemental, but on how well you work together. If you try to work independently of your partners, you will fail even if the summoning succeeds. You're dismissed early today; use the extra time to go to the library and begin your research. Except for you three--Potter, Weasley, Malfoy. I want to talk to you."

The class hastily filed out, breaking into their assigned groups. Harry, Ron, and Draco squirmed nervously in their seats as Blackmore looked down at them sternly. "Yes, I think that will do nicely as a punishment," she said. "I can't think of anything a typical Gryffindor or Slytherin would hate more than being forced to work with one another. But you will still continue to scrub bedpans or toilets afterschool, one hour per day, until Bane is cured." She smiled as the boys stared at each other in horror; what if it took weeks or even months to cure Bane? What if he was never cured? "Just be grateful that I'm not banning you from playing Quidditch as well," she added, and they looked even more horrified at that thought. "I did consider it, but I am reluctant to make your teammates suffer for your misdeeds. However, if there are any more arguments in class or hexes thrown, you will be banned from Quidditch for the entire school year. Do I make myself clear, gentlemen?"

"Yes, Professor," the boys chorused glumly.

"Good. Now you had best head to the library and start your research."

The boys left the room, looking very subdued and humbled for once. Blackmore smiled and stroked the rabbit sitting on her desk. "Well, at least they have something in common now--they can commiserate together about how cruel and unfair the demonic Professor Blackmore is. Friendships have been founded on less. You know, Bane, you're kind of cute like this. I don't suppose you'd care to remain a bunny?" Bane growled and bared his teeth at her. Blackmore laughed, and he glared at his mistress, looking very disgruntled.

***

"This is all your fault," Draco complained as they sullenly trooped off to the library.

"Our fault?" Ron said indignantly. "We were just minding our own business when you--"

"Oh, knock it off, both of you," Harry said wearily. "We'll be in detention till we graduate if you keep it up. Not to mention getting banned from the Quidditch team."

The other two boys fell silent. Ron was looking forward to a repeat of last year's victory, when he had helped to win the game for Gryffindor; it was very rare that he got a chance to shine at something, when he was surrounded by so many older brothers, not to mention Harry, though he was Ron's best friend. Ron was never going to be a legendary wizard, like Harry was clearly destined to be, or smart like Hermione, but he had finally found something he was good at, and he wasn't going to risk losing his place on the team, even if meant working with Malfoy.

Meanwhile, Draco felt a little torn; if he could get Potter kicked off the team, that would increase Slytherin's chances of winning this year. They might even have a chance to win the Quidditch Cup back! But...getting Potter and Weasley in trouble would probably result in Draco being banned from the Slytherin team as well. Dylan was a natural on a broomstick, and could probably take over as Seeker--but what good was winning the Cup if Draco couldn't share in the glory? He had dreamed of the moment he'd be able to lord it over Potter, see the humiliation and defeat in his eyes. In his fantasy, Draco saw his father beaming at him proudly, although he knew that Lucius Malfoy was unlikely to be attending any Quidditch matches in the near future. But...on the other hand, Draco knew deep down that they were unlikely to defeat Gryffindor while Potter was on the team; if he got rid of Potter, at least Slytherin would win, even if Draco couldn't participate directly. The idea of making such a sacrifice for the greater good was completely foreign to Draco's nature, and he struggled inwardly for several minutes, debating whether winning the Cup was worth seeing someone else, probably Rosier, receive the glory that was rightfully Draco's. What if Dylan proved to be a better Seeker than Draco? A feeling of worry and resentment gnawed at his stomach; he thought sourly to himself that it just wasn't fair that Dylan was so damn perfect! He was handsome, charming, smart, talented at both magic and Quidditch--wasn't there ANYTHING he was bad at?! {I can beat Potter myself,} he told himself firmly. {This year I really will beat him! I'll show him, show everyone, that I'm better than him!}

By the time Draco had made his decision, they had reached the library. The other groups were already hard at work, browsing in the stacks, or sitting at the tables reading and taking notes.

"Ron, why don't you start researching the incantation?" Harry said. "I'll do the runes, and Malfoy can look up the material components."

"Who put you in charge?" Draco sneered. "I don't have to take orders from you!"

Harry took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to picture his anger draining out of him. At least the control he practiced for his Occlumency lessons was proving to be useful; he smiled a little as he thought to himself that Snape had probably not intended for him to use it in quite this way! That made him feel better, and he was able to say calmly, "Look, Malfoy, I don't like this any better than you do, but we don't have a choice. We have to work together or fail the class. Let's just get this over with as quickly as possible, okay?"

Draco looked at him suspiciously, but Potter's words made sense. "Okay," he said reluctantly. "But I don't want to do the material components," he added, just to prove that he wasn't going to let a Gryffindor push him around.

"Fine," Harry sighed. "What would you like to do, then?"

Draco blinked, surprised that Potter was being so agreeable. "Um...the runes, I guess."

"Fine," Harry repeated. He glanced at Ron, who was still glaring at Malfoy, though he had managed to keep his temper in check so far. Harry decided that their fragile new alliance probably couldn't stand much more strain, and suggested, "Shall we split up and compare notes later, then?"

"Fine," Draco said curtly, and watched the Gryffindor boys head into the stacks together. He scowled for a moment, then stomped off to look up information on runes and protective circles. But when he got to the shelves, he found that most of the books he was looking for had already been pulled off the shelf by his classmates. His mood rapidly growing blacker by the second, he set off to find his housemates. Soon enough, he spotted Nott and Zabini sitting at a table with their Gryffindor partners. They all had books lying open in front of them, and were taking notes, working together quietly, if a bit sullenly. As Draco approached he saw that, sure enough, Nott was using one of the books he wanted.

"Give me that book, Nott," Draco ordered.

Theodore looked up, startled, then automatically picked up the book, but Seamus Finnigan snatched it out of his hand. "Get your own book," he snapped. "This one's ours!"

"All the books on protective circles are checked out," Draco whined.

"That's not our problem," said Dean Thomas.

"Why don't you let Draco have the book?" Blaise suggested in a nervous but placating tone. "We can get it back from him later. The three of us are all in the same House, after all, so Draco could use it now, and Theo and I can work on it later tonight."

"We had it first," Seamus said stubbornly. "Let HIM wait till we're done with it!"

"Just give him the damn book, Finnigan!" Theodore growled. "I'll finish copying the runes later."

"No," Seamus said, refusing to give in. "It's signed out in my name, and I'm keeping it!"

Draco's face began to turn red, and Blaise quickly said in a soothing tone, "We'll bring it to you as soon as we're done with it. And Dylan said that his mother sent him all her old notes from her elemental-summoning project. Her fifth-year project was summoning an air elemental with Dylan's dad--"

"I know, I know," Draco said impatiently. He must've heard about a hundred times how Ariane Donner had met Evan Rosier in Blackmore's class--it was Dylan's favorite story, and all the girls in Slytherin, with the possible exception of Avery, seemed to think it was incredibly romantic. Personally, Draco thought Dylan was a bit of a mama's boy, but he supposed that was only natural, since Dylan's father was dead and he had been raised by his mother. Draco's father had told him privately that Evan Rosier was a fool to have risked his status in Slytherin, not to mention his life--because he had joined the Death Eaters with the intent of gaining enough power to force the Donners to allow his marriage to Ariane--all for the sake of a woman. "One who allows himself to be ruled by sentiment will never attain the ultimate height of power," Lucius Malfoy had said. "Never forget that, my son. Evan was useful to us, as Dylan shall be, but they are followers, not leaders. And Malfoys are born to be leaders."

"--so I'm sure he wouldn't mind loaning his notes to you," Zabini was saying.

"Huh?" Draco said, snapping back to the present. "Oh, yeah, he'd better not. I'll go talk to Rosier."

Blaise watched Draco leave, feeling a bit guilty for diverting him to Dylan. But Dylan always seemed to know how to handle Draco's moods and pacify him.

"Thanks a lot," Theodore said sarcastically to Dean and Seamus.

"Hey, just because you lot suck up to Malfoy, doesn't mean that we have to as well," retorted Seamus.

"You're not the ones who have to live with him!" snapped Theodore.

"I don't know what it's like in Gryffindor," Blaise said, in a quieter and less hostile voice, "but in Slytherin, Draco can make life miserable for anyone who crosses him. You might think it's fun to piss him off, but we're the ones who will suffer for it."

The two Gryffindor boys exchanged a glance, feeling a little guilty, and then resentful for having been made to feel sorry for a Slytherin. It was easy to dislike Theodore, who was sullen and abrasive, and it took no effort at all to hate Draco Malfoy, but it was a little harder to find an excuse to hate Blaise, when he was being so reasonable and polite, even after they had just gotten him into trouble with Malfoy. They almost wished he would say something rude, so they could go back to loathing the Slytherins with a clear conscience.

"Don't you ever get tired of being pushed around by Malfoy?" Dean finally asked.

Blaise shrugged. "That's life. Everybody has to put up with stuff they don't like: homework if you're a kid, a job you hate if you're an adult--"

"Working with Gryffindors," Theodore muttered.

"--so what's the point in complaining about it? It doesn't change anything."

"Why don't you just tell Malfoy to bugger off?" Seamus demanded.

Blaise and Theodore exchanged a look that clearly said, "Can they really be that stupid?"

"Do I look suicidal?" Theodore asked, scowling.

"Draco's father is a very powerful man," Blaise said carefully.

"Not anymore!" Dean protested. "He's a criminal on the run."

Blaise and Theodore exchanged another look. They both knew that only made Lucius Malfoy more dangerous, not less. "The Malfoys are still a very influential family," was all Blaise would say on that subject. "We should get back to work."

Seamus reluctantly handed the book back to Theodore, who resumed taking notes, mumbling something about thick-headed Gryffindors. Dean and Seamus began muttering under their breath about slimy Slytherins. Blaise said irritably, "Oh, shut up, all of you. Do you want to join Potter and Weasley and Malfoy in detention if Professor Blackmore hears you've been fighting?" The other boys fell silent and turned back to their books, resuming their uneasy truce.

***

Draco caught Dylan between classes, and the younger boy promised to lend Draco his notes, assuring him that they had extensive information on the runes required for the protective circle. Dylan even ran back to the dorm during their lunch hour to fetch the notes, which improved Draco's mood slightly. After classes were over for the day, Draco stopped by Snape's office.

"Shouldn't you be in detention right now, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked, looking up from the papers he was grading. He smiled in a nasty way as he scrawled a failing grade across a Gryffindor student's paper in red ink. Good; if Snape was in a good mood, maybe he'd be more inclined to grant Draco's request.

"Yes, sir," Draco replied. "But I just wanted to talk to you for a moment first." Snape laid down his quill and looked at him expectantly. "Professor Blackmore's forcing us to work with Gryffindor partners in her class!" Draco burst out. "She's making me work with Potter and Weasley."

"Yes," Snape said calmly, "I know. She's very big on inter-House cooperation. She did the same thing when I was a student; I had to work with the werewolf, of all people! A most unpleasant experience, but I survived it, and I imagine you will as well. You have my condolences, though, for being stuck with Potter and Weasley."

This was not quite the response Draco had been hoping for. "But Professor, can't you do something--?"

Snape scowled at him. "Do you not recall me telling you to keep a low profile, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes, sir, but--"

"And do you not recall me saying that my position at Hogwarts is rather tenuous at present?"

"Yes, sir, but--"

"I warned you, and you did not heed those warnings," Snape said coldly. "Now you must suffer the consequences." Draco scowled sullenly, and Snape seemed to relent a bit, either feeling sorry for Draco, or, more likely, remembering that Draco's father was his superior in the Death Eaters. "I'm sorry, Draco," he said in a more sympathetic tone, "but you will just have to live with your punishment. Professor Blackmore is a formidable mage, and not one I care to cross."

"But you're my Head of House, and you outrank her," Draco pointed out. "You have more seniority--"

"Actually, the Professor predates me at Hogwarts," Snape said, looking a little amused. "She was my teacher when I was a student here. But you are correct; I have been teaching here for fifteen years, while Professor Blackmore taught for seven before she...ah...took an extended leave of absence, shall we say? So technically, I might have more seniority than her, but Blackmore never cared much for technicalities or rules--in case you haven't noticed. If McGonagall and I hadn't been there the other day, she might have blasted the three of you into piles of ash." Draco shuddered a little. "Yes, Professor Blackmore always did have a bad temper," Snape said, almost nostalgically, and Draco shot him a wounded look, which he ignored. "She may have been a Ravenclaw, but she comes from a long line of Slytherins who were rumored to practice the Dark Arts. And those weren't the only rumors--have your parents told you the stories about the Blackmores having demon blood?"

Draco nodded, turning pale, and asked in a hushed voice, "Is it true? Does she have demon blood?"

Snape shrugged. "I don't know. But she apparently slew three Death Eaters single-handedly--or she and whatever creature she summoned did. Either way, she's no one to trifle with. Don't antagonize her, Draco."

"Yes, sir," Draco said glumly.

"You'll only have to work with Potter and Weasley for a couple of weeks," Snape said. "Consider it an exercise in control."

"Yes, sir," Draco repeated, just as glumly.

"Now you had better head over to the hospital wing to serve your afternoon's detention before you get into more trouble."

"Yes, sir. Um...are you close to finding a cure for Bane yet, Professor?"

"I'm working on it, Malfoy. Believe me, I don't find the situation amusing." But his lips twitched slightly, and he admitted, "Well, all right, I do find Bane as a bunny rabbit rather funny--"

"Professor!" Draco cried in outrage. To his amazement, Snape smiled.

"But," Snape added, "I'd prefer not to have Professor Blackmore mad at me, and I'm almost as eager as you are to find a way to break the curse. She comes into my office at least twice a day and glowers at me and says, 'Have you found a way to undo the curse yet, Severus?'" He mimicked Blackmore's imperious tone of voice, and Draco smiled a little in spite of himself.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said. "I didn't mean to get you into trouble."

"You must learn to think before you act, Draco," Snape said, but without any heat in his voice, and Draco nodded obediently. "Well, she seems to be harassing McGonagall twice as much, so that's a slight consolation. As strict as she is, she's always been notoriously fair, and since there were two Gryffindors involved and only one Slytherin, she seems to hold Gryffindor twice as accountable."

Well, it didn't seem that way from Draco's point of view, but he knew better than to argue with Snape, and at least Snape seemed to be taking it well; he didn't want both of them mad at him! In fact, he felt rather flattered that Snape had unbent enough to joke with him a little bit.

"You're dismissed, Draco. Try to stay out of trouble from now on."

"I will, sir," Draco promised, and left.

***

As soon as the boy left, Snape burst out laughing. He was still chuckling and wiping tears from his eyes when Lupin stepped out of the fireplace.

"Don't let Branwen catch you laughing, Severus," he said, but his eyes sparkled with merriment as well. "She's still quite peeved about what happened."

"But it's so funny," Snape said with a grin. "That bird terrorized us when we were children, and to see him sitting there all cute and fuzzy and twitching his nose..." He couldn't help himself, he started laughing again. Which was not a bad thing, it turned out, because Lupin locked the door then came around behind the desk and sat down on Snape's lap.

"I love the way you look when you laugh," he murmured, gently tracing the curve of Snape's lips with his fingers. "You should do it more often."

"I don't think Branwen would appreciate having Bane turned into a bunny on a regular basis," Snape said, still laughing.

"That's not what I meant," Lupin said with mock-sternness, and waggled his finger at Snape in admonishment.

"I also reminded Draco about the old rumors of the Blackmores having demon blood," Snape said, grinning widely. "It was almost like old times," he said nostalgically, "the way we older students would terrorize the first years with stories about the demonic Professor Blackmore. He completely bought it, too; you should have seen his face--he was white as a ghost, and his eyes were as big as saucers!"

"Well, it's true," Lupin pointed out. "She does have demon blood."

"Which would come as no surprise to Draco or any of her other students, I assure you," Snape said, with a low, wicked-sounding laugh.

Lupin shivered a little, and Snape saw the wolf begin to stir behind his blue eyes. "I thought you were going to be the...what was the term Tonks used? Good cop to Branwen's bad cop."

"Good and bad are relative terms, especially for a Slytherin," Snape said in a smooth, silky voice, wrapping his arms around Lupin. "Would you like to see how good...or how bad...I can be, Lupin?"

"Yes," gasped Lupin, fumbling with the fastenings on Snape's robes.

"This is very unprofessional behavior, you know," Snape said in an almost conversational tone as he began to undress Lupin as well.

"Mm-hm," Lupin agreed, kissing Snape's neck. "Quite."

"And it's all your fault," Snape continued, as his hands slipped beneath Lupin's robe and shirt and caressed his chest; Lupin gasped again. "For starting that 'quickie between classes' thing."

"A Gryffindor corrupting a Slytherin," Lupin said with a grin. "What is the world coming to?"

"It's utterly scandalous," Snape agreed, then all talk ceased as Lupin hungrily covered Snape's mouth with his own.

***

The various groups in Blackmore's classes were reluctantly cooperating (she had assigned similar projects, with mixed partners, to all of her classes). There was a lot of griping going on in the Gryffindor boys' dorm, particularly from Dean Thomas. It wasn't so much about being forced to work with Blaise and Theodore--whom he reluctantly conceded were doing their share of the work without arguing--but because Ginny had been assigned to work with Dylan Rosier's group (which also consisted of Colin Creevey and Damien Pierce, but Dylan was the one that Dean was worried about).

He found no sympathy from his Slytherin partners, of course. When he told the two boys to "tell your friend Rosier to keep his hands off my girl," Theodore retorted, "Tell him yourself! Do I look like your messenger boy?"

"I swear, if he puts the moves on her--"

"I assure you," Theodore said, in a sarcastic voice worthy of Snape, "that no Slytherin in their right mind would 'put the moves'--as you so quaintly phrase it--on a Gryffindor."

"Don't you trust your girlfriend?" Blaise asked mildly.

"Well, yeah," Dean said, flustered by that unexpected question, "but..."

"Then there's no problem, right?"

"But..."

Even Seamus, his best friend, was a little tired of hearing Dean's jealous rants about Dylan Rosier. He clapped Dean on the shoulder and said, "Don't worry, mate! Ginny's not the type of girl to fool around, you know that."

"Yeah, I know, I just..."

"Dylan has half the girls in the school chasing after him--" Blaise started to say.

"Only half?" Seamus asked ironically, raising his eyebrows.

Blaise smiled a little. "So he's got no need to go poaching someone else's girlfriend."

"Can we please get back to work?" Theodore asked in an aggrieved tone.

"I just wish Rosier would pick one girl and get it over with," Seamus sighed as he picked up his book. "Then the others would finally give up on him, and settle for being consoled by one of us."

***

Meanwhile, in the girls' dorm, Ginny was complaining about Dean's jealousy. "He's so possessive! I've told him over and over that I'm not interested in Dylan, but it's like he doesn't believe me! I asked him, 'Why are you going out with me if you don't trust me?'"

"And what did he say?" Hermione asked patiently.

"'It's Rosier I don't trust, not you,'" Ginny replied in disgusted voice.

Parvati giggled. "Don't mind him; all the boys are jealous of Dylan!"

"You're sooo lucky that you get to work with him," Lavender sighed. "I'd gladly trade places with you!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Dylan's nice, but it's causing so much trouble with Dean!" Then she suddenly laughed and said, "If only he knew it was Damien that keeps flirting with me, not Dylan!"

Parvati and Lavender giggled. "My, aren't you the popular one?" Parvati asked archly

Ginny grinned. "Well, Damien seems to chase after anything that wears a skirt, so I don't think it's anything special about me."

"He is kind of cute," Lavender conceded, "but Dylan's still the handsomest boy in school."

Parvati and Lavender were getting along well enough with their Slytherin partners. There were a few snide remarks exchanged during their study sessions, but the four girls had discovered that they all shared the same favorite pastime: gossiping about Dylan Rosier. Parvati and Lavender expressed envy that the two Slytherin girls actually got to live in the same dorm as Dylan, so Pansy and Millicent regaled them with stories about Dylan; Parvati and Lavender found even the mundane details of his daily activities fascinating. In return, Parvati, whose sister Padma was in Ravenclaw, answered the Slytherins' questions about Lisa Turpin, the only girl Dylan had ever gone out with. Occasionally things would get a little tense when the Slytherins would haughtily say that a Gryffindor had no chance with Dylan, but then Parvati would point out that Dylan had never dated a Slytherin girl, either. Then they would all sigh and commiserate together. And even Pansy and Millicent had to agree that Dylan's parents' star-crossed love affair was incredibly romantic and tragic. Actually, the only real problem they had in working together was that they found it difficult to stop gossiping long enough to get any work done.

***

About a week had gone by since Blackmore had handed out their assignments. The Professors had still not found a way to lift the curse on Bane, so Harry, Ron, and Draco were still condemned to scrubbing bedpans and toilets--with toothbrushes. It had gotten to the point where Harry could hardly bring himself to brush his teeth at night before bed, because the very sight of a toothbrush made him recoil in horror. He knew that Ron and Malfoy felt the same way, because during their last detention session, Malfoy had groaned, "I never want to see another toothbrush in my life!" Ron and Harry had found themselves nodding sympathetically for a moment before remembering that Malfoy was supposed to be the enemy.

Harry was enjoying a rare moment of leisure one Saturday morning in his dorm room--or at least he was trying to. Dean Thomas was complaining about Dylan Rosier again, and Harry was getting heartily sick of it. Even Ron, who hated Dylan Rosier almost as much as Dean did, was beginning to get a little annoyed.

"Yeah, Rosier's a swell-headed little git," he said, "but my sister's getting fed up with you. What's the matter with you; do you think Ginny would cheat on you? With a Slytherin?!"

"But Dylan makes eyes at all the girls," Dean said defensively.

"Yeah, I know that," snapped Ron, "but the point is, Ginny doesn't make eyes back at him! Or are you calling my little sister a loose woman?"

"Come on, Ron," Harry said, jumping to his feet and grabbing his friend by the arm. "Let's go to the library." {Where it's quiet and peaceful,} he added silently in his head.

"But it's Saturday," Ron protested.

"We've still got Blackmore's project to work on," Harry said, dragging him out of the room.

Ron was struggling with the incantation part of the research. He had found several different versions, and was not sure which one they should use. Harry looked at the books and notes he had spread across the study table in the library. "Well, this one's for summoning a Greater Elemental; that's way out of our league, so you can forget that. And this one's a command-type spell; Blackmore says we're suppose to 'request' aid from the elemental, so we want a supplication-type incantation. I guess either of these two would be okay."

Ron groaned, "If only Hermione would let me copy her incantation! But she just says, 'You'll never learn anything, Ron Weasley, if you don't do the work yourself!'"

Harry grinned. "Yeah, that sounds like Hermione! But you should feel sorry for her; she's stuck with Crabbe and Goyle for partners, after all."

"And being stuck with Malfoy is any better?"

Harry grimaced. "I'm not sure. Malfoy's a prat, but at least he's not stupid."

"He'll sabotage the project just to get back at us, you wait and see," Ron predicted ominously.

Harry laughed, "You're starting to sound like Professor Trelawney!" His friend gave him a wounded look. "We'll have to watch Malfoy carefully, but I don't think he'll sabotage the project if it means he'll fail, too. He's almost as obsessed about his grades as Hermione is."

"That's because he can't stand a Muggle-born girl outranking him in the class standings," Ron said smugly.

"Look, why don't you copy down both of these incantations, then show them to Hermione and ask her which one she thinks is best?" Harry asked, turning his attention back to their project. "I mean, surely she can't object to us asking for a little advice, if we've already done the research and found the incantations on our own."

"Good idea, Harry," Ron said, taking out his quill. As he began copying down the incantations, which were all in Latin, he said gloomily, "I get tongue-tied every time I try to recite the spell. Why don't they ever write spells in plain English? I'm sure to foul it up somehow; maybe you should do the actual incantation when we cast the spell."

"Me?" Harry asked in alarm. "I'm the one who ended up in Knockturn Alley when I pronounced 'Diagon Alley' wrong! I don't think that's a good idea at all!" He paused, then said reluctantly, "Maybe we could get Malfoy to do it."

"Malfoy!" Ron exclaimed. "What if he decided to summon a demon instead of an elemental?"

"He's scared of demons, remember?" Harry reminded him.

"Well, that's true," Ron grudgingly acknowledged. "And I'd almost rather face a real demon than Blackmore. If there's anything scarier than her out there, I don't wanna know about it! I never thought I'd meet a teacher scarier than Snape..."

"Just copy down the incantations," Harry said. "We'll worry about who's going to recite it later." Ron nodded and got back to work, while Harry went to the stacks to do more research. As he was browsing the shelves, he passed by a section on curses. He hesitated, then pulled several books off the shelves and took them back to the table.

As Harry began flipping through the first book, Ron looked up and asked, "Why are you reading about curses? I thought you wanted to get this project finished."

"I do, but I also don't want to scrub toilets and bedpans for the rest of the school year," Harry replied. "I was thinking maybe I could find a way to break Bane's curse in one of these books."

"If Snape and Blackmore and McGonagall can't figure it out, what makes you think you can?"

"You're probably right," Harry sighed. "But I've got to try--I'm starting to have nightmares about toothbrushes! And besides, I feel bad. It's partly my fault Bane ended up being turned into a bunny rabbit."

"Yeah, my fault, too," Ron said guiltily. "But still, Malfoy started it!"

"Yeah, but I'm going to finish it," Harry said in a determined voice. "Snape's always going on about how irresponsible I am. So if I can find a way to help Bane, I can show them that I'm taking responsibility for my actions."

"Them?" Ron asked, sounding a little bewildered. "Them who? I thought you were just talking about Snape, and who cares what he thinks?"

"Snape, Lupin, Blackmore, Dumbledore--all of them," Harry replied. He flushed a little, recalling how Lupin and the Headmaster always looked disappointed in him when he refused to acknowledge Snape's good points. "Besides," he added hastily, trying to brush aside those guilty thoughts, "if we show them that we're being mature and responsible, they'll include us more in--" He stopped himself just in time from mentioning the Order of the Phoenix in public; even though there didn't seem to be anyone within earshot, it was better to be safe than sorry. "In things," he finished lamely, but Ron understood what he was talking about and nodded.

"Okay," Ron said. "I'll help you when I finish with this."

They pored over the books, discovering that it was much easier to cast a curse than to remove one. The main problem seemed to be with the Curse of Ill Wishing. At the time, Harry had not thought that it was particularly dangerous; what it did was infect the victim with a stream of bad luck--usually small but annoying things. Pockets would suddenly develop holes, bookbags would break, the victim would be prone to clumsiness--tripping over nothing in particular, dropping and spilling things, spells would misfire...pretty much everything that could go wrong, would. Harry wondered idly if Neville Longbottom had been under such a curse, but his magical abilities, along with his confidence, had dramatically improved since he had joined Dumbledore's Army, so Harry supposed that he had suffered more from low self-esteem than a curse. In any case, the bad luck caused by the curse made it very difficult to lift, since efforts to help the victim tended to go haywire. Normally, it was difficult but not impossible to remove the curse, but apparently its effects had been strengthened when it had combined with the other two spells.

Ron snapped shut the book he had been reading. "Give it up, Harry," he said. "The teachers will have to figure it out. There are instructions here for lifting the individual curses, but nothing about what to do if three spells get mixed up together. Apparently no one's ever done it before."

"Lucky us," Harry sighed. "We're trendsetters."

"I think we're the ones cursed with bad luck," Ron said glumly. "We got stuck having to live with Snape during the summer, we got detention from Blackmore, and now we're being forced to work with that slimy git Malfoy...it would sure be nice to have some good luck for a change. Hey, maybe we could buy a good luck charm in Hogsmeade!"

"I think we need more than one good luck charm," Harry said. "We need a whole field of four leaf clovers!" Then suddenly he recalled something Blackmore had said, when Hob had first come to work for Sirius: "A hob does more than just clean and cook; it makes a house, well...happier. It chases away bad spirits that cause dissension and discord, and makes things run more smoothly...a hob is like a living good-luck charm, you might say."

"Ron," Harry said slowly, "you're a genius."

"I am?" Ron asked, looking pleased but confused.

"I've got to go talk to Blackmore!" Harry exclaimed, and ran out of the library, leaving a bewildered Ron still sitting at the table.

Part 25