Hermione sat next to Harry, jolting him awake. Pouring herself some orange juice, she said,
“Did you hear, we’ve got a new professor, and a new subject? Yeah, only for seventh years, mandatory and they won’t even tell us what it is!” She shook her head while buttering a piece of toast. “How are we supposed to prepare?”
”Maybe that’s the point, we’re not supposed to prepare.” Hermione shrugged; her mouth was full. Looking around, Harry asked her,
”Have you seen Ron this morning?” Hermione shook her head.
”He’s in your dormitory,” she pointed out, and Harry nodded reluctantly. He didn’t want to tell her that he had really been avoiding Ron that morning – especially since he couldn’t tell her why.
”This new professor,” Harry said, “do you know what he’s like?”
”She,” Hermione corrected. “And that’s all I know about her.” She sighed – she still seemed upset about not being able to study up on the class. “But we’ll find out soon – we have her first.”
Room 201 was really an auditorium with chairs lines up in rows. The class went to the seating on the floor, whispering about the mysterious class and its tardy professor.
Harry and Hermione took seats, looking around for Ron. Suddenly, a tall, thin and pretty witch in black robes walked onto the stage. She held up her hands for silence, and received it almost instantly, even from Malfoy and his friends; everyone was curious about the green-eyed beauty.
”Hello,” her voice rang out in the large auditorium. Ron appeared out of know where to sit next to Hermione. “My name is Veronica. Please call me by my first name. I’ll tell you a little about myself.”
”I’ve been spending the past twenty years in America – New York City to be exact.” This caused a few confused whispers; Veronica looked about 17. “I used to attend Hogwarts quite a few years ago, and I enjoy animals, music and dancing.” She suddenly smiled. “What am I thinking – you don’t care! Ok, here’s what we’ll do – you come in one at a time –you’ll know when you’re next. Come into the room back behind the stage.” And with that, she disappeared behind the stage curtains.
Ron, Harry and Hermione looked at each other with the same thought in mind; what were they going to do?
Talk resumed in the echo room, and Hermione turned to Ron.
”Where have you been?” she asked, and Ron shrugged.
”About,” he answered. “I woke up late.”
They sat in silence for a while, watching people randomly get up and walk up to the room in the back of the stage.
”This is going to be easy,” they heard Malfoy say.
”But, she’s a professor, Malfoy,” Goyle said, confused.
”Exactly, dumbass,” Malfoy told him. “She’s new, she’s our age, whatever she says. We could skip every day and she wouldn’t do a thing!”
”Oh….”
Hermione sniffed loudly.
”Oh, my turn,” Malfoy said suddenly, getting up.
”Wonder what she’ll say to that?” Ron whispered to Hermione and Harry.
”I hope she bites his nose off,” Hermione said coldly. “Git.”
Harry and Ron grinned at each other over Hermione’s bushy hair, and then quickly looked away.
Harry Potter, please? a voice chimed in his head, and Harry immediately got up.
”My turn,” he explained to his friends, and walked to the stage.
The back of the stage was a dark hallway, with a room with light under the door at the end. Harry opened the door and walked inside.
Unlike the murky hallway, the room inside was warm and friendly. Pictures covered the walls; photos of smiling people. The desk was cluttered with papers, knick knacks and a flute case. Veronica sat behind her desk in a comfortable-looking chair, scribbling on a piece of paper. He closed the door, and she looked up at him, only to look down just as quickly. He cautiously took the other seat, hoping he was in the right place.
She finally finished writing the paper, and stared at her desk. Taking a deep breath, as if to collect herself, she looked up at him again, this time with a smile.
”Hello, Harry,” she told him. “You’re here so I can ask you a few questions, so I know where to place you in my class.”
”All right,” Harry said, curious. Veronica beamed at him and took out a fresh piece of paper.
”So, Harry….what do you like to do?”
”Well, I play Quidditch on the Gryffindor team, and I like spending time w –“ he stopped short, watching the pen flow across the paper on its own. He glanced down at the words, relieved to see they were exactly what he had said, “spending time with my friends,” he finished. Veronica nodded.
”Do you listen to music often?” she asked, and Harry shook his head.
”Not really,” he said.
”Ok, that’s fine,” she said. Suddenly, she squinted her eyes and stared into his, and for a split second, he could feel her in his mind. He shuddered and she looked away – the feeling vanished.
”Thank you…Harry,” she told him, not meeting his eyes. He stood up and walked out, wondering what had just happened.
“Hey, Hermione?” Harry asked in the hall. “Did anything….weird happen during your interview?” Hermione shook her head.
”No, she just asked some questions,” she answered. “Why?” So Harry told her and Ron the mysterious occurrence that had happened at the end of his interview. Ron remained silent, but Hermione pursed her lips and replied,
”There’s something about her that tickles my memory, but I can’t remember. I’ll think about it.”
Harry held his broomstick with clenched fingers. Even after playing seven years of Quidditch, he still got before-game jitters. He wished that Wood – the old Quidditch Captain – was still there, he had always assured Harry that he wouldn’t kill himself, or worse – make a fool of himself. But now he was the Captain, trying to assure a team of almost all new players.
That had been the Quidditch team’s one mistake; aside from Ron and Harry, the rest of the team had graduated last year. Harry took a deep breath and looked down on the team’s newest player, a second-year Beater named Kelly. She was leaning nervously against her broom, twirling her red hair around on one finger.
”Don’t be nervous,” he told her. “You’ve been doing great in practice.”
”Aye, in practice,” she said. “But I’ve never played in a real game before.”
”You’ll do fine,” Harry tried to assure her, and she shot him a nervous smile before they went outside.
The crowd went wild at the sight of the red and gold uniforms. Slytherin stood mounted, looking a bit sullen. Gryffindor was a favorite among the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Houses because of its apparent ability and winning streak.
”Let’s have a safe game, folks,” Madame Hooch said loudly before releasing the Quaffle.
The game commenced smoothly – for a Quidditch match. Slytherin caught the ball, bouncing it from Chaser to Chaser before being retrieved by center-Chaser Ginny. Ginny was half-way up the field before she dropped the Quaffle in an attempt to swerve a well-aimed bludger. Harry circled the field, one eye on Malfoy and another on the skies.
Harry caught Malfoy’s eye. The other Seeker smirked at him before calmly flipping him off. Seething, Harry almost flew at him to knock him off his broom, but a cry from the crowd made him turn around.
Ron was lying flat against t he handle of his broom, and his red hair was stained with gushing blood. Stunned, a flittering movement caught Harry’s eye. The snitch hovered twenty feet from him – an easy catch on his Firebolt.
But Ron, obviously unconscious, began slowly rising from his broom.
”Ron!” Harry cried, rushing to catch his friend before he hit the earth nearly 300 feet below, totally ignoring the golden snitch. He was lucky; Harry caught Ron’s arm while they were nearly ten feet above the ground. Slowly, Harry lowered them to the earth before dismounting to help his friend. Ron’s ride side of his head sported a large gash, seeming from a bludger. Ron was still unconscious when medics raced onto the field.
Instantaneously, the entire stadium seemed to be up and screaming; some with outrage, most with amazement. Harry looked up to se young Kelly, staring wide mouthed at her hand that clutched the golden snitch.