JohnnyZ
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[Castling] Chapter 45
🕑 Added 2025-01-25 00:35:47 +0000 UTCWhen I returned, Lupin was gone, but the compartment was packed with Harry, Neville, Seamus, and Dean. Their loud, animated chatter echoed down the corridor, and I could hear them before I even got close.
The moment I slid the door open, their voices cut off—they must’ve thought Lupin was back. Then, realising it was me, they yanked me inside, plonked me on the edge of the bench, and resumed their noisy retelling, all speaking over one another. It was cramped, chaotic, and deafening.
“The lights went out,” Seamus began, his tone full of drama.
“Yeah,” Dean chimed in eagerly, “and it got freezing, and Neville stomped on my foot!”
“I didn’t mean to!” Neville stammered, his cheeks flushing.
“Anyway, they came into our compartment,” Harry added, grinning.
“Exactly!” Dean nodded. “We wanted to see what was going on, but it was terrifying wandering the corridors in the dark. And there was something out there—something awful…”
“So we ducked into the first compartment we found…”
“And then something came up to the door…”
“I nearly wet myself, mate!”
“Same here, honestly!”
“And that bloke, the one who was here, lit up his wand…”
“The door opened, and there it was…”
“A monster, I swear!”
“It was like Death itself had come for us…”
“Yeah, it was like everything inside me froze over…”
“Exactly! Me too…”
“It tried to get in, but Hermione did something, and it felt a bit better…”
“Then Harry said something, and this stag showed up…”
“Yeah, this massive, brilliant stag… Harry, you’ve got to teach us!”
“I want one too!”
“It charged at the monster, and it just vanished! And then a massive glowing raccoon ran down the corridor. But when we ran out to look, it was gone.”
“Well, I was just sitting with my sister and didn’t see a thing,” I admitted, which earned a round of laughter from Harry.
The story was repeated endlessly, each version growing more exaggerated until Hermione finally returned.
“Hermione, where on earth have you been?” I asked, pouncing on her the moment she stepped in.
“I’ve been with Percy, handing out chocolate,” she replied, practically glowing with excitement. “Oh, Ron, it was amazing—”
Before she could finish, the door opened again. Lupin stepped in, paused at the sight of the packed compartment, and hesitated at the threshold.
“You should head back to your compartments and get changed,” he said with a kind smile. “We’ll be arriving soon. Here—take this.” He handed Neville a large chocolate bar. “Share it with everyone.”
“Thank you, sir,” Neville mumbled, blushing furiously. “But Hermione already gave us some.”
“Did she now?” Lupin raised an eyebrow in surprise and stepped aside to let the others file out. “Well, all right then.”
He moved further into the compartment, set the chocolate bar on the table, and said, “I suppose a little extra chocolate never hurts. Take it—better to have more than less.” His gaze swept over us, warm and approving. “You’ve all done well. And you, Harry—a Patronus at your age? That’s remarkable.”
“It’s nothing special,” Harry muttered, though he couldn’t hide the pleased look on his face. “Ron and Hermione can do it too.”
Lupin’s eyes widened in astonishment as he turned to us, clearly intrigued.
“Well then… impressive. I’ll leave you to it—don’t forget to change,” he said before stepping out.
“I think we’ve lucked out with this Defence teacher,” Hermione said, shrugging on her robe.
“Yeah, seems like the most normal one we’ve had,” Harry agreed, pulling on his own robes and slumping back into his seat. “Shame he won’t last past the year.”
“What?” Hermione gave him a sharp look.
“Oh, come on, Hermione. The curse on the job hasn’t gone anywhere,” Harry shot back with a smirk.
“You lot were brilliant,” I said interrupting, settling next to Hermione and gently pushing her cat off my lap. The furball stubbornly climbed back up until I relented. “Everything went like clockwork.”
“Yeah, Harry was great, but I…” Hermione trailed off, looking thoroughly dejected. “I couldn’t cast a full Patronus. I was so scared it just came out as a wisp—and not even a strong one.”
“But it helped me get mine out,” Harry interjected. “The moment you cast it, I felt better, and that’s when my stag appeared.”
“Really?” Hermione brightened visibly.
“Absolutely! You saw how frozen we all were,” Harry said emphatically.
She blushed slightly and changed the subject. “Ron, your brother is amazing,” she said, turning to me. “His Patronus cleared out Dementors in two other carriages. A raccoon—can you believe it? So adorable. Then we handed out chocolate to everyone. It felt so good to be helpful and know what to do. I think… I think I want to become a Healer. Well, maybe. There’s so much to learn in magic, and I want to try everything!” She was talking a mile a minute, her excitement spilling over. But I could tell she was still shaken—keeping busy was probably her way of holding it together after the Dementors.
“You’ll be brilliant at anything you choose, Hermione,” I said softly, slinging an arm around her shoulders and giving her a light squeeze. “With your brains and determination? Piece of cake.”
“Thanks, Ron,” she said, her eyes shining with gratitude.
By the time we got off the train, whispers had already spread. The tale of the Dementors being driven off the train had taken on a life of its own. Not that I should’ve been surprised—Dean and Neville couldn’t keep a secret to save their lives. Percy was nowhere to be seen—probably already reporting to Dumbledore—and Harry was left to fend off the stares of admiration and curiosity, even from the older students.
Before the feast began, Dumbledore introduced two new professors. The hall broke into applause, and students immediately started whispering among themselves, speculating about the new arrivals. Snape, for his part, shot Lupin a look of pure disgust, though with all the excitement, I doubt anyone else noticed.
Dumbledore’s tone grew serious as he launched into a speech about security measures and Dementors. Percy was practically glowing, beaming like a shiny new Galleon, especially when Dumbledore singled him out for praise and asked him to step forward. Now the school had two heroes—here’s hoping Hogwarts could survive the pair of them.
Back in the dormitory, Harry gave another demonstration of his Patronus for our lot after endless pestering. The lads wouldn’t let up until he promised to teach them how to cast one.
We shared sweets, swapped summer stories, and exchanged gifts. No dragons this year—unfortunately—but Harry and I had brought back fangs and claws on chains as keepsakes. The boys loved them. In return, we got lucky charms. Seamus handed over a "chicken god" (1) charm, saying it warded off nightmares. We hung it on the headboards of our beds.
Neville, blushing furiously, gave each of us a dried sprig with colourful berries. He called it something unpronounceable and said it was a magical plant that repelled evil spirits. That went on the headboards too—couldn’t hurt, especially with Dementors lurking about.
Seamus had nicked a two-litre keg of ale from home, so we saw to that and then crashed for the night.
At breakfast, Harry’s new-found fame caught up with him. The chatter quieted when he walked in, and even Malfoy turned up his nose dramatically. As we made our way to the Gryffindor table, a tall, grumpy-looking seventh-year girl stepped in front of us.
“Potter,” she said firmly, ignoring the rest of us. “Is it true you can cast a Patronus?”
“So what if I can?” Harry shot back, frowning. We’d stayed up late, and he was in no mood for this.
“Show me,” she demanded. Harry looked like he was about to argue, but I noticed how many people were watching. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath.
“Oh, just show her, Harry,” I sighed, before he could start a row. “Might as well get it over with, or they’ll be at you all day. And can we eat already?”
Harry, seeing us settle down with our breakfast, raised his wand. A silvery stag leapt from the tip, bounding around the hall to admiring gasps before vanishing.
“That enough for you, or do you need more proof?” Harry grumbled, clearly irritated.
“Brilliant!” the girl said, her scowl melting into a grin. “Didn’t expect that from a kid.” She turned and sauntered back to the Hufflepuff table, leaving Harry muttering under his breath.
Not much else happened after that, though Hagrid did stop by, holding a dead ferret. He looked a bit dazed and confided that he’d always dreamed of teaching but was nervous about messing it up. Of course, we encouraged him, though we all breathed easier once he left. Swinging a dead ferret near our breakfast wasn’t exactly appetising.
After breakfast, the others went off to Divination while Hermione and I headed to Muggle Studies. It was fascinating hearing about Muggles from a wizard’s perspective. There were only five of us in the class, and Professor Charity Burbage, a pleasant but tired-looking blonde in her forties, led the lesson.
She explained how wizards use spells to preserve the Statute of Secrecy. To my surprise, spells like Confundus, Obliviate, and Muggle-Repelling Charms were all fair game, and they’re taught in fifth year. Every student has to pass these specific exams separately to graduate—no exceptions. Wizards don’t have Muggle paperwork, and they rarely venture into the Muggle world, so in emergencies, they simply use these spells. If the wizard messes up and the Ministry’s Obliviator Squad has to step in, the wizard is fined heavily, especially if they work for the Ministry. Even casting Obliviate on another wizard doesn’t get you in trouble; it’s assumed that any wizard worth their wand can protect themselves. If not, well, tough luck.
Afterward, we joined the others outside the Transfiguration classroom. Harry looked irritated and downcast.
“What happened?” I asked, taking a spot beside him.
“Nothing,” he muttered, brushing me off. “Bloody Divination…”
Before I could press further, the door opened, and we all filed inside. McGonagall started her lecture, but the class was unusually subdued. Not even her transformation into a cat drew the usual gasps of amazement.
“What’s wrong with all of you today?” she asked curtly, her sharp gaze sweeping the room. Every head turned towards Harry, and Lavender raised her hand hesitantly.
“Well, Professor,” she began, “we had Divination first period, and…”
“Ah,” McGonagall interrupted with a grimace. “Who got the death prediction this time? You?”
“No,” Lavender said quickly, shaking her head for emphasis. “It was Harry…”
McGonagall turned to him, her expression softening, and gave him a reassuring speech that seemed to lift his spirits. The lesson carried on as usual after that.
At the end of class, Harry stayed behind to ask McGonagall if he could switch from Divination to Muggle Studies. Unfortunately, she explained he’d need to stick with Divination until year-end exams. He could only switch subjects if he passed the other class’s test or had signed up for three electives initially. Frustrated, we told him not to let the old fraud get to him. Privately, I was considering sneaking a laxative into Trelawney’s sherry if she kept winding him up.
After lunch, we trudged off to Hagrid’s lesson. The weather was perfect—clear and warm, though still a bit damp from the previous day’s rain. The crisp morning frost had given way to sunshine that made the air feel summery. It was the kind of day where you just wanted to flop onto the grass, soak up the sun, and listen to your friends bicker in the background.
Hagrid’s lesson didn’t get off to a great start. He led us to a large paddock and, amid Malfoy’s snide remarks, tried to explain the day’s topic. Poor bloke was so flustered he kept losing his train of thought.
Eventually, he gave up, muttered something under his breath, and disappeared into the forest, leaving the Slytherins plenty of time to sharpen their wit. Naturally, our lot couldn’t let their jabs slide, and things were about to get physical when Hagrid returned, leading a group of creatures that made everyone freeze in their tracks.
The hippogriffs burst into view, held back only by the chains in Hagrid’s hands. Whatever squabbles we’d had evaporated as we all instinctively stepped away from the paddock, eyeing the creatures warily.
For ten minutes, Hagrid gushed about how “lovely” these creatures were. Then, for another twenty, he tried to coax someone into stepping into the paddock to “get up close and personal.”
“Well? Any volunteers?” Hagrid asked, looking from one pale face to another. “Harry? Ron?” His hopeful eyes landed on us, and Harry, to my horror, looked like he might actually say yes.
“Not a chance, Hagrid,” I cut in quickly. “Why don’t you show us how it’s done? You’re the professional, after all. You’ll handle them way better than we could, and, well… we wouldn’t want to mess up and get someone hurt, right?”
Even the Slytherins didn’t have a snarky comeback for that. Everyone stayed silent, clearly unwilling to get anywhere near those unpredictable creatures.
“I was hoping you’d have a go at riding them,” Hagrid admitted, sounding disappointed. The very idea made the entire group flinch in unison.
“Probably not the best idea,” Hermione interjected, pulling out a notebook. “Why don’t you tell us more about them instead? We’ll take notes.” Her suggestion was met with enthusiastic agreement, as everyone hurriedly fished out parchment and quills, giving Hagrid their full, undivided attention.
Hagrid hesitated but eventually launched into a surprisingly informative lecture about hippogriffs. By the end, we’d all heaved sighs of relief and made a beeline for the castle.
“He’s off his rocker,” Malfoy ranted as he and his cronies passed us. “Bringing those monsters to a lesson. I’m writing to my father…”
Hagrid, meanwhile, looked crestfallen. “I just wanted it to be exciting,” he muttered. “Thought you’d like it…”
“Hagrid, it was a brilliant lecture,” Hermione said kindly, handing him a few pages of her meticulously neat notes and a sketch that vaguely resembled a hippogriff. Hagrid’s face lit up.
“Blimey, is that all from what I said?” he asked, sounding genuinely impressed.
“Of course,” Hermione replied, nodding earnestly. “You’re a natural teacher. A real professional. Maybe just stick to creatures we can pet for now?”
“But hippogriffs—” Hagrid started, only for me to jump in.
“No way, Hagrid,” I said. “They’re stunning, sure, but we’re not ready for them. How about unicorns, nifflers, jarveys, pixies, or phoenixes? Something cute and fluffy. You’re strong and brilliant with animals, but for us, your ‘puppy’ might as well be a cerberus. You wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt, right? Imagine if Malfoy wrote to his dad and the governors got involved. They’d sack you as a professor, and then where would we be?”
“Ron and Hermione are right,” Harry added. “No point risking it. Maybe in sixth year, I’d feel ready for something like that.”
“Fine,” Hagrid sighed, finally relenting. “Unicorns it is.”
“You nearly derailed the whole lesson, Ron,” Harry muttered as we walked back to the castle. “I could’ve handled it. That hippogriff seemed calm enough.”
“Sure,” I shot back with a grin. “And what if you slipped off and broke your neck? Hagrid doesn’t even have a wand—what would he do? You’d be a pile of bones, and Hagrid’d be sent straight back to Azkaban.”
“Ron’s right,” Hermione chimed in. “What if it had hurt someone? Did you see those claws? And there were over a dozen of them in the paddock. Hagrid couldn’t have stopped them all if they’d gone berserk.”
“Fine, fine,” Harry grumbled. “But I’d still like to meet one properly someday.”
“Then ask Hagrid for a private session,” I teased. “He’d love that.”
Hermione let out a little snort, and we all laughed. Personally, I was just relieved I didn’t have to rescue Malfoy—or a hippogriff—for once.
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“Chicken God” – this is how a small stone with a natural hole in it is called in Russia. People believed that it protected poultry and livestock from curses and evil spirits, stimulated their fertility, and kept them within their yard.
