Wednesday, September 3
Harry loved sixth year so much already.
He'd been pretty annoyed with Snape when he made him add potions to his schedule, but even the addition of that one class didn't detract from his free time too much. Monday's and Wednesday's he had potions right after breakfast and defense after potions; which left him with complete free time after lunch. The same for Tuesdays and Thursdays, when he had charms and then transfiguration. Which left his Friday's completely free, the best news he's ever gotten at Hogwarts. Plus, all of the teachers spent the beginnings of their first class of the year harping on about using nonverbal spells this year, which meant that Harry truly got to shine.
He had already been given house points by McGonagall and Flitwick both for his silent magic, and Sirius barely even made Harry participate in class aside from helping him try and teach the others how to duel silently.
It was brill.
"What's got you so happy?" Neville asked suspiciously when Harry sat down for breakfast on Wednesday morning.
"Just a good day, isn't it?" Harry grinned as he helped himself to a plate of sausages and eggs. "Think about it, Nev, when will we ever be sixteen again? Never. Might as well make the best of it."
Theo snorted. "He means he's being praised every time he sneezes in class and it's inflating his ego to an unbearable size."
"You sound jealous," Susan laughed. "Poor Theo, is your ridiculous schedule not leaving you a lot of free time for joy?"
"It— no," Theo let out a gust of air and shared a miserable look with Hermione. "It really isn't."
"Drop some classes then," Draco advised them as he poured Luna a cup of tea. "Ten NEWTS will kill you."
"But they're all so important!" Hermione cried. "I don't even know what I would drop!"
"Creatures and astronomy," Blaise said. "They're pointless classes."
"Aren't you taking astronomy?" Harry asked him curiously.
"I am. And so are most of the girls in our year," Blaise winked.
"Shameless slag," Susan teased him fondly.
"You could self-study easily for history," Neville said quietly as Susan and Blaise bickered good-naturedly. "It's just a written final."
Hermione and Theo exchanged another long look before they both sighed, almost simultaneously.
"Let's talk to Flitwick and Snape tonight," Theo told her. "This was too ambitious, even for us."
Harry tuned them out as he saw Sevvie flying in to the Great Hall, a parchment hanging from his claws.
"Excellent," he breathed. He elbowed Susan, interrupting her and Blaise's argument, and nodded towards Sevvie.
"Is it from our friend?" Susan murmured excitedly as Sevvie landed on Harry's shoulder and stuck his leg out for him.
Harry unrolled the parchment and huddled closer to Susan so they could read together:
H,
You will never believe some of the things I've found! It seems like D isn't nearly as white as his beard implies. I've talked with a few sources that pointed me toward another possibly good one. I'll send more information after I talk to her, but this could be a best seller by the time I'm done.
Toodles for now,
-R
"That's not exactly helpful," Susan scoffed after she finished reading Rita's letter. "We need dirt now."
"Patience," Harry grinned as he rolled up the parchment and stuck it in his pocket. "Be worth waiting if she—"
"What have you got?"
Harry looked up at Draco's question, but he wasn't looking at Harry, he was staring at Ron. Harry turned towards Ron too to see what was so curious and cocked his head at Ron's red ears and a small parcel in front of him.
"What's that?" Harry asked him.
"Bertie Beans," Ron said, "and- and a card."
Harry looked at the others to see if they could understand why a box of candy would make Ron look so embarrassed, but they looked as confused as he did.
Except Trent.
For once.
Trent was stifling his giggles as he watched Ron with a knowing look in his eyes.
"I don't get it," Harry said flatly. "What's going on?"
Draco suddenly leaned forward and snatched the card out of Ron's hands and read it aloud to the others while Ron half-heartedly tried to snatch it back.
"'Dear Ron, I thought you were going to ask me out, but since you didn't, I guess I'll ask you. Didn't you come from a line of Gryffindor's? Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend? I don't know if you follow traditional courting or not, but just in case, I've included a box of candy. Love, Daphne.' Oh my god," Draco looked over at Ron and began laughing as well now. "You never asked Daphne out?? I thought you were going to last May!!"
"I was," Ron said hotly as he finally got the card back from Draco. "Got a bit distracted with the bloody death eaters, didn't I?"
"Well?" Hermione demanded with a grin. "Are you going to write her back?"
Ron glanced down the table where Daphne was sitting with Parkinson, her fourth year sister, and a couple of the seventh year Slytherin girls. "Suppose so..." he muttered with another blush.
"Oh for God's sake..." Susan shook her head and stood up. "Hey! Daphne!"
"What are you doing?" Ron hissed.
Daphne looked up at the sound of her name being called and raised a sculpted blonde brow at Susan. "Yes?"
"Ron would love to," Susan yelled to her, causing the other Slytherin's to take notice of them.
"Wonderful," Daphne smiled towards Ron with her own slight blush now. "I'll see you next weekend then?"
Ron looked a little sick, but he nodded jerkily. "I'll see you next weekend."
Harry looked between Ron and Daphne for a moment before he scowled. "You guys will see each other this weekend, we've got quidditch practice, don't we?"
"Oh." Daphne's blush darkened as her sister giggled. "Yes, well... I'll see you guys then." She turned pointedly away from them amidst laughter from her friends.
"I... I don't even..." Ron looked gobsmacked and looked up at Draco with wide eyes and a slack jaw. "What just happened?"
"You're going to quidditch practice this weekend and Hogsmeade with Daphne next weekend," Luna told him airily. "You really should pay more attention Ronald."
Harry snorted just before the bell rang, signaling the end of breakfast. Trust Ron to forget to ask someone out, causing her to do it herself.
Ron still looked shocked as Harry, Draco, Hermione, and Theo told the others goodbye and headed towards potions.
"Close your mouth, Ron," Draco snickered. "You look like you just got hit by a quaffle."
"Things like this just don't happen to me," Ron hissed as he looked around them furtively. "D'you guys reckon it's a joke?"
"Could be," Harry shrugged. "I thought Fred was pranking me when we went to Hogsmeade."
Hermione frowned at Harry disapprovingly, which was a bit rude considering Harry was just being honest. "It is not a joke," she told Ron. "Why wouldn't Daphne want to go out with you? You're a perfectly nice guy, reasonably fanciable, and you two have a lot in common. I'm positive it was a genuine offer."
Ron seemed to have grown six inches as he thrust his chest out and smiled at Hermione appreciatively. "You think I'm fanciable?"
Hermione shook her head in exasperation while Theo narrowed his eyes at Ron.
"Of course that's all you heard," she sighed. "You're a prat, Ronald."
"A fanciable prat," Draco laughed as they entered the potions classroom. "Watch yourself Ron, Theo will be stabbing your eye out next."
"What's this about stabbing eyeballs?" Slughorn asked as the five of them took the tables in the front of the room. "Surely it's too early for that sort of violence."
"It's never too early for violence, sir," Harry said brightly as he took his seat. "In fact, mornings are when people are at their slowest, so really it's the best time for it."
Slughorn roared with laughter while the other NEWT students filled in.
"Oh, I bet poor Severus has got his hands full with you, doesn't he?" Slughorn winked. "'Never too early for violence', you're a cheeky one Harry."
Harry smiled politely as he got his book out of his bag. If Slughorn thought Harry was just being cheeky, so be it.
Harry really thought he wouldn't like Slughorn, as exhausting as it was to be 'political Harry', who was charming and polite, but then during his first potion class he realized that Slughorn seemed as fond of 'rude Harry' as he was 'charming Harry', so he decided to go ahead and give the man a chance. Plus, if it wasn't for Slughorn, then Harry never would have gotten Snape's book.
And Snape's book was brilliant.
It was hilarious, knowing Snape gave himself a name just as stupid as 'Voldemort', and even better once he realized how embarrassed Snape was about it, but the notes were the real draw of the book.
Snape and Harry didn't really keep secrets from each other, and Harry knew almost everything about Snape, but it was different actually reading his personal notes. It was like Snape used his old potions book as a bit of a journal; making scathing remarks about his professors, comments on his 'incompetent' classmates, and general bits on his thoughts. Such as the notes surrounding the recipe they needed for today, Polyjuice—
'Polyjuice could be combined with an Everlasting Elixir for longer lasting results, but God forbid anyone be stuck blind as a bat and wearing hideous glasses forever.'
Harry was pretty sure that was an insult against his own father, but it was also funny and insightful so Harry laughed when he subtly pointed it out to Draco.
"'The Prince' is a bit of a git, isn't he?" Draco murmured with a grin. He slid Harry the boomslang skin that needed shaved.
"A brilliant bastard," Harry laughed quietly. "Some things never change."
It didn't take Harry and Draco the entire hour and a half to prepare their ingredients and get them combined to start step one of what was apparently a month long process. Draco scooted over to help Ron prepare his ingredients, since there were an odd number of students in their NEWT class and he didn't have a partner, and Harry poured through his textbook.
Harry's eyes flicked over the spells Snape wrote, his lips curling up at the ones he marked 'for enemies' and made a mental note to ask him what they were for.
"Your mother liked to read too," Slughorn said thoughtfully as he paused by Harry's table and saw Harry focusing entirely on his textbook. He gave Harry a wistful smile and shook his head slightly. "She was a genius, she could have been the first muggleborn to dual-qualify for a charms and potions mastery. It's a shame..."
Harry sucked his bottom lip in for a moment as he cocked his head at Slughorn. "How many people do you know that double mastered, sir?"
Slughorn looked taken aback for a moment by Harry's question, but he scrunched his face up in thought for a moment. "Hmm..." Slughorn tapped his chin, "three wizards, that I know of."
"Wouldn't it make more sense to just say she would have been the fourth person to get a dual mastery then, sir?" Harry said politely. "Then you don't sound like a bigot."
In the absolute silence that filled the classroom, Hermione hiss out a shocked gasp, and Harry thought he heard Theo groan, but Slughorn didn't look offended at all. He just blinked heavily at Harry for a moment before bursting in to a loud and boisterous laugh.
"You are just like your mother!" he roared. "My God, the cheek, the wit! You are Lily Evans all over again, lad!"
Harry just kept smiling politely.
He still hadn't been joking.
But whatever.
Harry was just pleased as they left the classroom and he'd won another five points for Slytherin. At this rate, he'd single-handedly win the house cup without even getting some outrageous bonus for some crazy event happening.
"I hate everything about you," Draco grouched as they made their way across the castle to the defense classroom. "Only Harry freakin Potter could mouth off to a teacher and get rewarded for it."
"Pains of fame," Harry quipped, unconcerned. "Can't imagine why you're complaining Dray, we're in the same house. When I shine you shine," he grinned.
"I'll hold him down, you kill him," Theo muttered to Draco with a small grin.
They were still arguing over who had the harder job in that scenario when they arrived in the defense classroom.
Since Sirius accepted students with an acceptable in his defense class, it was the largest of Harry's four NEWTS with sixteen sixth years mixed together. Apparently NEWT classes were all houses, which was brill because it meant Harry's friends shared classes now, but it also meant...
"Potter," Finnigan sneered when Harry walked through the doorway at the same time as him. "Come to show off some more?"
"Yup." Harry smiled sharply at Finnigan and twitched his hand quickly enough to cause the other boy to flinch and step away from him. "Somebody has to," Harry said over his friends laughter.
"That's enough," Sirius said firmly from the front of the classroom. Harry saw his eyes were sparkling though, so he figured he wasn't actually mad. "No fighting before we even start today, huh guys? Save it for class."
"Are we dueling today, Professor?" Susan asked as she took her seat next to Harry.
Sirius was practically bouncing in place with excitement. "We are," he told them. He waited until everyone took their seats before he pulled his wand out in a dramatic flourish. "Alright guys, so Monday we talked about the benefits of nonverbal spells over verbal ones, but what I'd like to do today is actually start on an easy nonverbal spell, expelliarmus. If you can disarm your opponent silently, it'll be more likely to take them by surprise, which will make you more successful. Now! Who wants to volunteer to help me demonstrate?"
Sirius shook his head at Harry's immediately raised hand. "Do you have your wand with you? Because this is easier to show with wands."
"I'll do it, sir," Susan said after Harry reluctantly lowered his hand.
"Perfect." Sirius clapped his hands together while Susan made her way to the front. "Alright, Miss Bones, if you would ever so kindly pull your wand and point it at me, perfect."
Sirius and Susan stood across from each other, their wands raised, and Harry had an irrational feeling of irritation to see someone pointing their wand at Susan.
He knew it was a demonstration.
He was pretty sure Sirius wouldn't ever actually hurt Susan.
But the last person who faced off against her caused her arm to be amputated, so Harry wasn't a fan.
"We'll have Miss Patil count us down," Sirius told Susan. "When she says go, I want you to try and silently disarm me, alright?"
Susan nodded, a grin flitting around her lips. "Yes, sir."
"On your count then Miss Patil."
Padma sat up and cleared her throat. "Three... two... one... go!"
Sirius had Susan's wand in his hand before Harry could hardly blink.
Sirius definitely never did that when they dueled over the summer.
"You hustled me!" Harry cried indignantly, forgetting entirely that they were in class. "You can fuckin cast nonverbally?"
Sirius had the fucking audacity to grin at Harry. "We're in class, aren't we?"
"Yes," Harry grit out.
"Yes, sir."
Harry narrowed his eyes, "No need to call me sir, Professor."
The thunk of a head on a desk was probably Ron this time, but Harry was busy being assigned his first ever detention from Sirius to actually check.
***
Harry showed up to his detention that night with a sullen look and tightly clenched fists.
"I'm here," he said as he entered Sirius' classroom. "Where should I sit, Professor?"
"You shouldn't," Sirius said with unflappable cheer. "You should summon your wand and come up front."
Harry shrugged and pulled slightly on his magic, commanding it, bring me my wand.
Sirius waited, his arms lightly crossed across his chest while he propped up against his desk and waited for Harry's wand to arrive. Once it did, Sirius gestured for Harry to come up to the front with him.
"First off, you actually do have to remember I'm a professor as lame as it is," Sirius told him seriously. "Secondly, you're probably the strongest wizard I've ever known—,"
Harry went ahead and forgave Sirius' first point since his second was a real boost to his ego.
"—but," Sirius added, deflating Harry's budding smile, "you're erratic. You don't use spells or your wand and it makes your magic less disciplined and more likely to backfire, you following me?"
Harry considered the time he painted every fence in Surrey red...
When he caused a cave in in Slytherin's Chamber...
Every time he's gotten pissed off and accidentally made something explode...
"I'm following you," Harry said tersely. "But if it's better to cast nonverbally, then what's the point in changing it now?"
Sirius held his wand up. "This," he said. "This is an actual instrument for magic. I'm not saying that casting wandlessly isn't amazing, because it's amazing to the point of unheard of, but for spells that have the potential to go wrong? This will help guide that energy to the specific target, and no where else."
Harry fingered the wand in his hand with a curious look. "But if it gets taken from someone, then they're powerless."
"Right," Sirius nodded, "but not you. You'll never be powerless, but it wouldn't hurt any to be more disciplined either."
Harry actually thought that it would hurt, somehow, but if this is what Sirius wanted to waste his detention on, then Harry wasn't complaining.
"Alright, Professor, so what are we doing then?"
"Simple spells," Sirius beamed, pleased at Harry's compliance. "I actually wanted to teach you some household spells, stuff to help you when you eventually have to live alone and Mavis has a wand and refuses to wash your dishes anymore."
Harry chuckled, "'Kay."
The two of them actually spent over an hour, nearly two in fact, casting a variety of household spells with wands, but using the silent incantation.
"How do you usually do it? For spells you don't know?" Sirius asked him while they were finally putting away the plates they summoned to practice on.
"I just... er... I just tell my magic what I want," Harry shrugged. "Like... make Sirius' hair blue."
Sirius laughed when he conjured a mirror to see that his hair was in fact blue. "Who taught you to do it like that?" he asked after he flicked his wand and returned his hair back to its natural rich black.
"Taught myself when I was a kid, didn't I? I just got better at it as I got older."
"Huh." Sirius gave Harry a puzzled look. "Can you do anything?"
Harry grinned as he recalled his disastrous attempt at shaving by commanding his magic to shave his face. "No."
"Still though, it's handy, I suppose..." Sirius' puzzled look deepened to more of a frown. "I thought you didn't know you were a wizard until you met Snape?"
"I didn't."
"Then how did you know to practice?"
"Oh." Harry remembered his little bits of childhood accidental magic. "I just did a lot of accidental magic until it finally dawned on me that it wasn't accidental, that I was magic. Stuff like fixing dishes after I dropped them so I wouldn't get in trouble, apparating away when I was getting my arse kicked, stuff like that. Then I started actually practicing."
Harry had no idea what prompted Sirius to give him a tight hug when he left the classroom a few minutes later, but it wasn't terrible, he supposed.
Even if he was still a little mad that Sirius hadn't been dueling him to the best of his abilities over the summer.
Thursday went great, with McGonagall and Flitwick working more on practical magic than they were theories, and then finally, finally, it was Friday.
"Are you coming to breakfast?" Trent asked Harry while the other boys were rushing around their dorm getting dressed Friday morning.
Harry yawned and stretched across his bed with a lazy smile. "Nope."
"I hate everything that you choose to be about," Theo told him deadpan. "Trent, Harry is a perfect example of a Slytherin with no ambition."
"Harry's going to be Minister of Magic," Trent said loyally. "I think that's the most ambitious career aspiration I've ever heard of."
"Ta," Harry told him as he nuzzled his pillow.
"Let me tell you about Harry's campaign plan, then you can decide if he's ambitious or lazy," Blaise laughed. He slung his arm around Trent's shoulders and guided him towards the door. "It starts with announcing, 'Harry Potter is running for minister', then it ends with him winning in a landslide."
Harry scoffed as Blaise underrepresented his plans to Trent. It also involved defeating Timmy and reminding people he did that, which was quite a bit of work apparently, but the two of them were already gone before he could correct him.
"I can't believe you get to sleep all day," Ron grumbled as he tied his trainers.
"'M not sleeping all day," Harry murmured, already mostly back asleep. "'M also flying later."
Ron, very rudely, slammed the dorm door rather loudly when he left with Draco and Theo. But, since Harry figured he was just regretting taking Herbology for a NEWT, he just shrugged and went back to sleep.
Sixth year was brilliant.
When Harry woke up later, he took his time showering and getting dressed before he popped down to the kitchen for whatever meal people have that falls between breakfast and lunch.
Brunch?
Leakfast?
He was pretty sure he'd heard Cissa talk about a 'brunch appointment' before, so probably not leakfast.
After he ate 'brunch', and gossiped for a bit with Mavis who returned to the castle when he did, Harry headed out to the deserted quidditch field and quickly summoned his Firebolt 100 from the locker room.
I should have brought this broom home with me over the summer, he thought as he happily zoomed around the pitch.
Harry flew, dodged, dove, and even got a snitch out to practice with until he was interrupted after only an hour by someone on the ground yelling at him. Harry flew downwards and laughed when he saw Trent waving a broomstick around with a brunette Gryffindor girl with her own broom standing beside him.
"We ditched history!" Trent yelled with a proud smile. "Can we fly too?"
"Course," Harry agreed when he was hovering only a few feet above the two of them, it wasn't like he owned the skies. "Who's this?"
"Sapphire Herron," the girl said with a grin. "Thanks for 'definitely not killing Umbridge'," she winked before holding up her right hand where Harry could see faint white scars across the back. "I owe you one."
Harry's mind went fuzzy with anger for a moment before he reminded himself that he killed Umbridge and he occluded the anger right out of his head.
"You said it, not me," he smirked. "What position do you play Sapphire?"
"I'm trying out for chaser this year," she said. "Trent said you learned all the positions before you applied to be captain?"
"Yup."
"Wicked," she beamed. "Ginny Weasley is our captain this year, but maybe if I learn all the positions I can ask Professor Black if I can have it next year instead."
"Brill." Harry slowly started floating back upwards. "Why don't you go get a quaffle and we can play opposite each other while Trent keeps?"
"Yes! Thank you!"
Trent was pink in the face as he watched his friend run off.
"Is this the same Sapphire that you fancy and had sleepovers with over the summer?" Harry asked Trent with a grin.
"Nope. Different one," Trent said solemnly.
"Riiiiight."
"Shut up, Harry."
When Sapphire returned with the quaffle, the three of them spent the rest of the afternoon outside flying. Trent had practiced hard over the summer with Sirius, Draco, and Ron and was becoming a damn good keeper. Leagues better than Harry was anyway.
Not that Harry would admit that out loud.
And Sapphire was already a decent chaser. It was more of a challenge to get the quaffle away from her than Harry originally thought it would be.
"My mum played for the Harpies," Sapphire explained while the three of them eventually trooped back towards the castle, sweaty and filthy. "I heard you got picked for the Arrows though, didn't you Harry? Why didn't you play for them at their last match?"
Harry stuck his fists in his pockets and shrugged. "Timmy— Voldemort," he said when she looked confused, "killed the teams owner so they reckoned I was a liability and kicked me off the team."
"What a bastard!" Sapphire gasped, scandalized. "That's worse than killing your parents, I think."
Harry gave her a queer look at that. Sapphire must take quidditch really bloody seriously to think something so mad, but he just hummed.
"I blew his house up in revenge," Harry confided told her in a whisper.
"Good," she whispered back with a mischievous grin. "Next time maybe do it while he's home, okay?"
"I'll try," Harry laughed while holding the door open to the Great Hall for her and Trent. "If you feel like skipping history again next Friday, I'll be on the field."
"Um... maybe the Friday after that," she said slowly with a look at Trent. "Even Binns will notice if we're literally never in class."
"If you say so," Harry shrugged. "See ya."
Harry and Trent swerved over towards the Slytherin table while Sapphire ran off towards the Gryffindor table.
"She's weird," Harry told him.
"I'm going to marry her one day," Trent said in a wistful voice. "Maybe tomorrow, maybe next year, but definitely before we're thirty."
Harry was still laughing at Trent's soppy smile while they took their seats.
Though, his smile was wiped off his face just a few minutes in to dinner when Snape and McGonagall approached their group with solemn looks on their faces.
"It wasn't us," Susan said immediately.
"It was Neville," said Draco.
"Hey!"
"Might have been me," Harry grinned. His grin faltered as neither McGonagall nor Snape looked very amused. "Er... we're kidding, what's up?"
"Harry, can you come with us for a moment?" Snape asked. "We need to talk with you and it is rather important."
Harry felt a slight tremor of unease run through his hands, but he tucked them under his armpits and adopted a polite mask of indifference.
"Of course, sir," he said. He pushed away his dinner plate and got to his feet. Snape stared hard at Harry for a moment before sighing and turning to stride out of the Hall, McGonagall beside him, and the Hall full of whispers behind Harry as he followed the two.
Neither of them said anything as they walked to McGonagall's office, which heightened Harry's nerves and had him moving his hands to his pocket where he could stroke his penknife soothingly.
You just saw all your friends, he reminded himself. Almost all your people are at Hogwarts, they couldn't be hurt, you just saw them.
Except Fred.
Fuck.
He should have called him when he woke up.
Harry actually felt like he was going to be sick by the time they made it to McGonagall's office and Snape closed the door behind them.
"Harry, breathe," Snape murmured quietly. "In and out, slowly."
Harry sucked in a breath and tried to blink away the white spots threatening to overwhelm his vision. "What's going on?" he asked tightly.
"Harry, where were you today?" McGonagall asked.
"Bed, then flying," Harry said, trying to figure out how that was relevant to what he was sure she was about to tell him.
Not Fred, not Fred, not Fred.
"Can anyone confirm that?" Snape asked Harry, placing his hand on his shoulder.
Harry shook his hand off and stepped backwards, getting some space from the two of them. "Trent and a girl from Gryffindor, Sapphire," he said. "What's going on? Is Fred okay?"
"Fred?" McGonagall looked surprised at Harry's question, which loosed the horribly tight knot in his chest. "Fred Weasley? He's fine, I believe. This is about Seamus Finnigan."
"What?" Harry blinked in surprise and looked between Snape and McGonagall for a moment. "Er... I apologize, but what's going on?"
"Seamus Finnigan was attacked with a knife and had his memory wiped of the event," Snape said bluntly. "Did you do it?"
"What?" Harry started to smile, but realized that would actually not help him right now, and instead shook his head solemnly. "No, sir, I didn't. I really was in bed until after breakfast then I went flying until just a few minutes ago. You can ask Trent, he was with me while I was on the field."
"The whole time?" Snape asked.
"Er..." Harry didn't really want to get Trent in trouble, but only slightly less than he wanted to be in trouble. "Since before his History of Magic class," he admitted. "But he shouldn't get detention for skipping since he didn't technically get caught," he added hastily.
McGonagall snorted quietly and went to her desk to dig through the drawer for a moment. "You said Sapphire? Sapphire Herron was with you?"
"Yes, ma'am."
McGonagall checked a parchment she pulled out of her desk and nodded at Snape. "Their class started at one. If they confirm they were with Harry, then it wasn't him. Poppy said Finnigan was attacked around two thirty."
Snape let out a sigh and gave Harry an apologetic look. "Apologies, Harry. You're free to go."
Harry looked between the two professors with a bemused expression. "I'm not trying to be rude or anything, but- but was I really your first suspect?"
"You do have a penchant for stabbing people," McGonagall scoffed before she gave Harry a warmer look that was nearly a smile. "I am sorry Harry, I know you and Finnigan don't get along, I merely thought perhaps the two of you had a fight that got out of hand."
"Riiiight." Harry furrowed his brows for a moment. "So, again, I'm not being rude or anything, but I handed out like thirty knives as Christmas gifts to the students in my club, didn't I? And most of them are decent enough with them, soooo... so I don't really think I should have been your first suspect."
Snape put his hand on Harry's shoulder again and turned him towards the door. "I'll just take Harry back to dinner before he gets himself another detention Minerva," he said. "I will check with Mister Bailey and Miss Herron, but I am certain Harry is telling the truth. Goodnight, Minerva."
Harry let Snape lead him out to the corridor, then immediately brushed his hand off. "What the fuck?" he whispered with a glare. "You know I'm not the only bloke walking around here with a knife."
"I know," Snape said calmly. "Yet you are the first suspect when a student has been stabbed in the kidney, his memory swiped, then left for dead on the dungeon floors."
That...
That didn't even make sense.
"If I killed Finnigan, I would have put him in the Room of Secrets or Slytherin's Chamber," Harry said thoughtfully. "And I probably would have aimed for the heart, not the kidneys. That's what I taught the defense club to do."
"I am pleased you will not be pursuing a position as a barrister in the future," Snape drawled with a roll of his eyes. He walked alongside Harry in silence for a few moments before clearing his throat lightly. "You truly did not have an altercation with Finnigan today?"
"Nope. I'm not a fuckin liar, Sev. I would have told you if I did it."
Harry wasn't lying, and he also wasn't stupid.
If he attacked Finnigan, he wouldn't have left him for dead, he would be dead.
And they never would have found his body.
"I wonder who did it," Harry mused aloud when they were approaching the hall.
"Finnigan is an idiot boy who goes out of his way to spew vitriol about Slytherin students," Snape said. "I am certain that it was one of the thirty other 'students walking around with a knife'."
Harry's good cheer returned to him as he slid back in his seat and Snape didn't even bother to ask Bailey for his alibi. Harry figured it meant either Snape trusted Harry's word, or he would cover for him even if Harry did do it. Either way it was decent of him.
"What happened?" Ron asked, his face pale beneath his freckles.
"Someone stabbed Finnigan in the kidney and Snape and McGonagall thought it was me." Harry shrugged and accepted the fresh plate of food that Susan slid to him. "You ready for practice tomorrow?"
"No- wait- what?" Neville leaned over the table to stare incredulously at Harry. "Is Seamus dead?"
Harry frowned and shook his head. "No," he said sadly. "He's still alive."
"Why'd Snape accuse you?" Hermione asked.
"Because someone stabbed Finnigan," Draco said pointedly. "That narrows the suspect list a bit, doesn't it?"
"Not really. Half of Hogwarts got pocket knives for Christmas," Hermione said logically, proving why she was in Ravenclaw.
Honestly.
As much as everyone told him it was a terrible idea, it was like they all suddenly forgot Harry bought loads of students knives for gifts last Christmas.
"But what I meant was, does Seamus not know who attacked him?" Hermione asked Harry.
"Nope. They wiped his memory, didn't they?" Harry glanced at Susan and raised a brow. "Did you do it?"
"I wish," Susan said darkly. "Finnigan and Ginevra are on my list."
Even Ron didn't say anything against that, God forbid he be added to the list next.
A few of them did shudder though, being on Susan's list was as much of a death sentence as being on Harry's.
"Maybe it was Crabbe or Goyle," Theo said in a hushed whisper as he snuck a narrow eyed look down the table where the two of them were sitting alone. "They are the actual death eaters in the castle."
"Maybe," Harry said, entirely unconcerned. "But if their plan was to kill him, they fucked up. And if their plan was to pin it on me, they still fucked up. I didn't even get detention, did I?"
"Did you tell McGonagall that I was with you today?" Trent asked.
"Yup."
"Did you tell her I skipped history?"
"Yup."
Trent groaned and threw a bean off his plate at Harry's forehead. "I hate you."
"You don't," Harry grinned cockily. "Now, back to something important... quidditch."