Chapter 4

Transfiguration that day saw the Gryffindors in a terrible mood. They had all just come from Potions in which Malfoy had been a brat and Dean's cauldron had triumphantly exploded all down the back of Snape's robes. It had been funny for a particularly short moment and then it had been decidedly very not funny. Their heads were still reeling from the number of house points lost. They were now behind Hufflepuff – an absolute travesty.

McGonagall was only so sympathetic as their Head of House and the lesson continued as planned: turning giant mushrooms into ink wells.

When the bell rang and they were dismissed only one Ravenclaw had managed to be mildly proficient. Harry and Ron glanced at each other and then at Hermione but were smart enough not to comment. Her temper was nasty the last few days. They did not speak of the only possible reason.

And then it was lunch - "Thank Merlin," Ron bemoaned as he filled his plate.

Harry was equally relieved. "Only Divination to go."

Ron mumbled something through a mouthful but Hermione interjected, ignoring his bad manners. "I still can't believe your still taking that." She frowned. "There are so many more useful classes – really anything else."

Harry fiddled with the baby carrots on his plate. "Yeah I suppose. Although we were taking it for laughs. Its not fun now though. Sinistra isn't Trelawney ya' know."

Hermione made a non-committal sound through her nose.

"Yeah!" Ron argued loudly, swallowing a lump of food. "We actually have to do real homework instead of making it up."

Yes – it was terrible. Harry nodded his agreement to Ron.

"Besides. After who-know-what happened in the who-know-which-basement, there must be something' to it all."

Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron's word choice. "I suppose." Harry chose to ignore the reference.

That was the extent of the conversation as she stood, pushing her unused plate back. "Well, I've got research to do in the library. See you tomorrow I suppose." Ron waved over his next bite and Harry offered a small "Bye" as she stalked out the doors to the Great Hall.

The two ate in silence; content to focus on the food; until the dishes were cleared and the next bell rang.

The Gryffindor Common room was their next stop as Divination would not be held until the sun set. The warm fire and red tapestries always made for a perfect napping spot. Harry told himself that he wouldn't fall asleep, but he did little to fight his drowsy eyes as he laid aside his Quidditch magazine and tipped his glass up onto his forehead. Ron had already succumbed just minutes before. He was sprawled out in the large wing-back chair across the room – a quill leaving its mark on his robes.

Where the fire was toasty and comforting, Harry's dreams were not. There were the ever present characters: Voldemort and Wormtail with the added cast of assorted Death Eaters. The room they sat in was cold and stark. Rows of desks piled with books lined a cold marble aisle in which a few spindly candles provided little light. A constant hum of paper shuffling almost drowned out the voices.

"My Lord, we are making excellent progress. The memories the Mudblood provided us with have been more than ample to assist our research." The robed figure was bent at the waist looking no higher than Voldemort's knee caps.

Voldemort did little to express his pleasure but turn to his snake and motion her to relax. "And what of our progress at the Ministry?"

Wormtail gave the other Death Eater a savage grin – his two front elongated teeth snagged together as he rubbed his fingers together up by his chin. "Oh, yes, what of the Ministry? What of it?"

The Death Eater hardly spared him a cursory glance, saving his attention for the Dark Lord. "Our plans are progressing at the rate we expected. We should have access to the needed departments in due time."

Voldemort did smile then. His lip-less mouth stretched over yellow and pointed teeth. "Spoken like a true politician."

The other said nothing; only dipping his head further as the Dark Lord swept from the room.

The common room was not as quiet when Harry awoke. Hermione was sitting quietly beside him with a book open but the rest of Gryffindor was boisterously charging up and down the stairs stowing their books and papers away in preparation for dinner. Crookshanks was curled up on Harry's stomach, swishing her talk back and forth across his face.

"A little help here would be nice," he commented.

"Oh honestly, Harry," Hermione chided, closing her book. She stood and Crookshanks jumped off his human pillow. "He isn't going to scratch your face off."

He sat up and pulled at his robes; opening them up and using his jumper to fan his chest. The nap combined with the fire had left him hot and sweaty. His head was killing him. "What time is it?"

"Time for dinner. Ron has already gone down."

"Oh." He looked down as his shoes for a moment before glancing around. No one seemed to be listening to their conversation. "I had a dream."

Hermione sat back down next to him. She was so close he could smell her shampoo. "A dream-dream you mean." Her lips were pursed and her eyes searched his face. "You didn't seem upset while you were sleeping."

"Yeah. It was a dream-dream. But nothing bad happened." He glared at the fire. "Nothing happened at all. They were just talking. Stuff about memories and the Ministry."

Hermione gave him a moment to continue, and only prompted him more when he said nothing. "What stuff, Harry?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. Just that they were on track. But I don't know what track they're on."

She seemed unsure as to what to say next so she stood. "If we don't go to dinner soon, Ron will have eaten everything."

It was easy to put aside the dream through dinner and a lively conversation about Tonk's latest dueling demonstration with the seventh year class that weekend; and, Seamus also supplied some other comments that sent Hermione off on a tangent about appropriate student-teacher relationships. Ron, at one point, was so surprised and startled that an entire mouthful of food ended up on his lap and not down his throat. Harry slapped him on the back to hide his own blush.

Their trek up the stairs was different than usual. Instead of a tiny, dark room filled with chintz and overstuffed poufs, the boys found themselves in the the stark and cold Astronomy tower seated on straight-back chairs on the edge of the room shivering in the night air. They both had come fully wrapped in thick robes, scarves and hats but the constant winter breeze through the open-air roof of the tower and the glass-less windows were already chilling them to the bone. The weather had really taken a turn for the worse that week. Gone were the cool fall nights.

"Remind me to ask Hermione about warming charms," mumbled Ron to Harry after Professor Sinistra had started class without a moments mention of the weather.

"I will remind you that this is a interdisciplinary course." Sinistra strode around the class with a tight smile. "That means that you will be connecting ideas cover in each unit in this class to many of your other subjects. Each unit will require a paper reporting a thesis merging Astrological theories with other Theories of Magical Study. For instance, you may report on the function of Venus in the brewing of touchy potions. Or, perhaps the reaction of household charms to the return of Halley's Comet. Any number of topics are available."

Ron was murmuring something unpleasant under his breath.

"We have spend ample time reviewing both topics related to Astronomy, Divination and Astrology. For the remainder of our classes together, I will be presenting possible research topics – which we will brainstorm as a class – and you will have class time available to make astrological observations and consult with your classmates."

She paused, pivoting on one heel to survey the class. "As you are now in your sixth year, I expect that you will be working diligently when given the opportunity. And as this will be a more self-guided course, it is up to you to take responsibility for your work."

There were mutterings of understanding from various students.

"Good." The professor pulled her wand and summoned a stick of chalk. She turned to the black board and wrote 'Transfiguration' in large letters across the top, underlining the word with a flourish. "Lets start with the more difficult topic while you're fresh this year. Lets get a generous list of corresponding topics." Harry placed his ink pot on the wide windowsill to give him more space on the surface of the tiny fold-able desk.

A few students raised their hands and Harry delicately held his quill, trying to make his writing somewhat legible, even though his fingers were freezing, as he scribbled down the notes Sinistra was making at the front of the room.

Eventually, a few students delved into an argument about whether or not Saturn's dominance would aid the Transfiguration of animals. Ron's eyes instantly glazed over at the first mention of "characterology" and Harry slumped into the seat, leaning against the stone wall of the classroom.

He had a fairly respectable view out the window. This particular tower was situated more for its view at the sky and not the surrounding countryside. The moon was only a sliver and hardly shed any light on the tree tops. However, as he peered into the darkness, he could making out the edge of the Forbidden Forest and the dim points of light of the lanterns that followed the road down to Hogsmeade.

Most of the view was taken up by the immense bulk of the castle itself. Far below, Harry could see students reading by candle-light in the library. The tall windows allowed light to spill out onto the dark grass below. For a moment Harry wished that there was snow on the ground; it would have made a quaint sight.

Above the library, the castle still loomed upwards dotted with classroom windows, and eventually, a steep slate roof with hundreds of dormers poking out across its surface. Most of these windows were dark, but a few were lit by brightly burning torches. If Harry squinted he could barely make out Professor Burbage fiddling with what looked to be a tiny television in a room stuffed full of plastics up to the ceiling that rivaled Mr. Weasley's collection.

A shuffling of papers and the scrapping of chairs signaled that the class was dismissed. Harry grabbed his quill and quickly scribbled down the long list of possible research topics that he had missed. Ron was scrambling to shove his papers into his bag – his breath crystallizing in the cold. The room was emptying at a rapid rate.

"Let's get outta here."

Harry turned to grab his ink pot as a flash of movement caught his eye from one of the dormered windows. An white owl had just landed on a sill a few floors down from the peak of the roof – Harry could hear the echo of its talon tapping on the glass on the breeze. For a moment he thought it was Hedwig (as there were almost never any other white owls bringing the post at breakfast) but of course it was not his bird.

A light flickered to life and the window opened revealing Professor Jaganshi completely shirtless and reaching out a bandaged arm for the package the owl held. Harry looked away, embarrassed.

"Harry!" Ron called from the stairwell. "C'mon!"

Harry grabbed the ink pot and stuffed it into his bag; shuffling through the scattered desks and over to his friend.