Harry lifted his head from the Common Room table and smiled to see Ron back.
”How are y-“
”You could have lost us the game!” Ron seethed. “There were almost every teacher there, do you think Dumbledore would have let me just fall?!”
Harry blushed – he had been told the same thing by almost everyone in Gryffindor.
”What would you have done, Ron?” he snapped. “It all happened to fast, I didn’t have time to think!”
”I would have acted like a good Captain and analyzed the situation before putting the game in jeopardy,” Ron snapped back, red with rage. “Good thing Kelly was there to catch the snitch.”
Harry bit his lip before stating the obvious reply. Kelly was at the right place at the right time, she was a Beater He was the Seeker.
”What, do you want an apology?” Harry asked, temper rising. “Ok, I’m sorry I was thinking about your safety and the risk of your death before a stupid game!” And with that, Harry stormed off to the dormitories, leaving Ron alone.
“She looks so familiar!” Hermione whispered to Harry.
“Who?” Harry asked.
“Veronica!” Hermione told him, gesturing to their professor, who was fiddling with a piano at the front of the room. “It’s like I’ve seen her before, only not met her.” Harry shrugged.
Ron came in and silently took the seat next to Hermione. Hermione looked at both of them trying not to look at each other and threw her hands in the air.
“Are you two having a spat again?” she cried. However, neither had time to answer before Veronica addressed the class.
“I bet,” she told them, hands in jean pockets, “that you’re wondering a few things.” She paused, looking around the room with a small smile on her face. “One, why I’m wearing Muggle clothing,” she gestured to her jeans, black t-shirt that read AC DC and sneakers. “Well, I’ve lived among Muggles for quite some time and like their clothing better. Second – what this class is and why you have to take it.” She went over and sat at the piano.
“Music,” she said, playing a complex sonatina, “is a magic all in itself. An art, where it can either mystify or fascinate you.” She switched into a dark, minor key. “However,” she continued. “music makes magic stronger.” As she said this, the entire piano and herself rose five feet in the air, hovered for a moment before setting herself and the instrument back down. The class gasped, Hermione was furiously scribbling notes. “You see,” she said, still playing, “magic is in you. If all you had to do was speak some words and wave a wand to do magic, everyone could do it. Music strengthens the magic within, and with music, most of you will be able to not use a spell at all; the music would be your spell.” Standing up, she turned to her captivated class. “Anyone have a guess on what we’re going to do?” Hermione’s hand shot up.
“You’re going to teach us how to strengthen our magic by teaching us music?” she asked.
“Exactly,” Veronica said. “I interviewed you all to see which instrument would best develop your magical skills. I’m going to teach you how to play and we’ll have a concert at the end of the year.”
“So – we can’t even pick our own instruments?” Malfoy called out rudely. “What’s up with that?” His friends murmured in agreement.
Veronica looked at him with a calm look on her face.
“Name?” she asked him.
“Draco Malfoy,” he answered. She nodded.
“That explains it,” she muttered. Loudly, she said, “Mr. Malfoy, where are we, right now?” Malfoy shrugged, smirking.
“Uh, class?” he said sarcastically. Veronica smiled at him.
“Very good, Malfoy,” she told him slowly and sweetly, as if she was praising a dog. “Now, there’s a little thing in class we like to call respect.” Her smile deepened. “You know, R – E –S –P –E –C –T?” As she sang out each letter of the word, Malfoy turned promptly into a kitten. The classes burst out into laughter, and he…hissed. Veronica calmly walked over and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. Looking at him eye to eye, all mirth gone from her face, she told him,
“I expect some respect, understand? The next time I don’t get it, I’ll dangle you from the window for a few hours. Savvy?” Malfoy meowed frantically, and she set him down and turned, walking back up to the front of the class. When she was half-way there, she snapped her fingers and Malfoy turned back into a human, rubbing his neck and scowling.
“Now,” Veronica said when she got back to the front of the room. “Anyone else want to comment on my teaching? No? Wonderful.” She picked up a sheet of paper and sat down on a stool.
“I’m going to read off your name, you say ‘here’ and I’ll say your instrument…we’ll kill two bird switch one stone. Alyssa Anderson? Flute…”
She went on, reading who would be section leader as she went along. Hermione received bassoon, much to her surprise.
“I’m not even sure what a bassoon is,” she whispered to Ron and Harry.
“Harry…Potter?” she asked, faltering on his last name.
“Here,” Harry said, again wondering what caused her to be so…weird around him.
“Lead – percussion.”
Harry shrugged; drums always seemed the easiest to him.
“Ron Weasly?” she said at last, and Ron raised his hand. “Yeah.”
“Um,” she looked down at her list. “French horn.” Ron shrugged, almost exactly as Harry had done.
Now finished Veronica looked up at them. “I have to get these instruments,” she told them. “So, class dismissed.”
The class, still silent after Veronica’s strange displays of magic, got up slowly and walked out of room 201.
“What an odd concept!” Hermione said as they got out. “I haven’t the faintest idea of how to play an instrument. I better get to the Library!”
And with that, she left Ron and Harry alone. Ron shook his head at her back.
“First free times she gets, and off she goes to study!” he said to Harry.
“Yeah, I know. She’ll probably be an expert at the bassoon when she gets back, too,” Harry answered, and they laughed. Then they looked at each other, remembered they didn’t like each other and turned away.
Harry and Ron sat at their usual Common Room table, silently doing their homework. Every once in a while, one would look up as if to say something, catch the other’s eye and look down again. This was interrupted by Hermione slamming a book down on the table, making them jump.
“I found her,” she said with a grin on her face.
“Who?” Ron asked as she began to leaf through the pages.
“Veronica, obviously, Ron,” she said. “Aha!” she opened up to a page, and indeed, there was Veronica smiling at the camera.
“Listen, it says she’s one of the most powerful witches in the world. Only Voldemort and Dumbledore even compare!” Hermione turned the page excitedly. “I can’t believe it - her teaching us? I can’t wait!”
But Harry’s attention had been caught on a small picture of Veronica in wizard robes, standing next to someone very familiar.
“That’s my dad,” he whispered, and Hermione’s chatter stopped short.
“What?” she asked, and Harry pointed to the picture.
“That’s my father, when he was 17, or something!” he insisted, as Ron and Hermione looked.
“Are you sure, Harry?” Ron asked, squinting to see.
“Of course I’m sure!” Harry snapped, causing Ron to look up angrily.
“The question is,” Hermione broke in before either could say anything, “what you dad was doing in that picture.”