"Well, what can we do?" Ron yawned. "It's too late, isn't it? She got the job and she's destined to stay here. Fudge will make sure of that. "
"Well …" Hermione said hesitantly. "Well, I was thinking today …"
She glanced at Harry a little nervously, thinking about the words Jon had taught her to say, and then continued, "I was thinking — maybe we should just — just do it ourselves."
"Do what ourselves?" Harry asked suspiciously, his hand still soaked in the juice of the Mortelia Rat's Tentacles.
"Well — we'll learn Defence Against the Dark Arts ourselves," Hermione said.
Hermione said. Her voice was low and unconfident, but it only lasted for a moment before it returned to normal.
"Don't be ridiculous," Ron complained. "You want to burden us? Don't you know that Harry and I have left behind another pile of homework, and it's only the second week? "
"But it's more important than homework!"
Both Harry and Ron stared at her.
"I don't think there's anything more important in the world than homework!" Ron said.
"Don't be silly. Of course there is."
Harry saw that Hermione's face suddenly glowed with the same enthusiasm she usually showed for S.P.E.W., and he had an ominous feeling. "I mean, as Harry said in the first class at Umbridge, we have to be prepared for whatever is waiting for us out there.
I mean, we have to be sure that we can really protect ourselves.
If we don't learn anything for a whole year — "
"We can't do anything by ourselves," Ron said dispiritedly.
Ron said in a disheartened tone. "I mean, yes, we can go to the library and find some curses to practice on our own. I think —"
"No, I think we're past the stage of learning only from books," Hermione said. "We need a teacher, the right teacher, who can teach us how to use spells and correct us if we don't do it right."
"If you're talking about Lupin …"
Harry was interrupted before he could finish his sentence.
"No, no, I'm not talking about him," said Hermione. "He's busy with the Phoenix Society all day long. Besides, the most we can see him is when we go to Hogsmeade for the weekend. That's far from enough."
"Then who is it?"
Harry frowned at her.
Hermione exhaled deeply.
"Can't you see?"
She said, "I'm talking about you, Harry."
There was a moment of silence.
The night breeze rattled the windows behind Ron, and the fire in the stove had gone out.
'What's the matter with me? 'said Harry.
"I'm asking you to teach us Defense Against Black Magic."
Harry stared at her blankly, then turned to Ron and tried to exchange an exasperated look with him, as they sometimes did when Hermione spouted off some ridiculous scheme of the S.P.E.W. variety.
However, to Harry's astonishment, Ron's expression was not angry.
He furrowed his brows slightly, clearly thinking.
Then he said, "That's a good idea."
"What's a good idea?" said Harry.
"You," said Ron, "teaching us all Magic."
"But …"
Harry smiled. These two must be joking with him.
"But I'm not a teacher. I can't —"
But Hermione looked at him firmly. "Harry, you're the best in Defense Against Black Magic in the whole year."
"Me?" Said Harry, smiling more broadly than before. "I'm not. You've done better than me in every examination —"
"Not really," said Hermione calmly. "You did better than me in Year Three — only then did we both go through the test together and meet a teacher who really knew the ropes.
But I'm not talking about examination results here, Harry. Think of what you've done! "
"What do you mean?"
"If you ask me, I'm not sure if I really want such a stupid person to teach me."
Ron said mockingly to Hermione. Then he turned to Harry.
"Let's see," he said, imitating Gore's long face when he was racking his brains. "Ah … the first year — you saved the Philosopher's Stone from the Mysteries."
"But that was luck," said Harry.
Harry said, "Not by skill."
"The second year," interrupted Ron. "You killed the Basilisk and destroyed Liddell."
"Yes, but if Fawkes hadn't shown up, I —"
"The third year," said Ron, his voice louder. "You fought off a hundred Dementors at once —"
"You know it was luck. If the Time Turner hadn't —"
"Last year," said Ron, almost shouting, "you escaped the clutches of the Mysteries again —"
"Listen to me!"
Harry said, almost angrily, for Ron and Hermione were laughing now.
"Listen to me first, will you? It's all great stuff, but it's all luck — I don't know what I'm doing half the time. It's not planned at all. I just go by the seat of my pants, and I almost always get help — "
Ron and Hermione were still laughing, and Harry felt his temper rising.
He didn't know why he was so angry.
"Don't sit there grinning as if you know better than I do. It was me who was there, wasn't it?" he said hoarsely.
He said excitedly. "I know what's going on, don't I?
Every time I was able to escape from death, it was not because I was outstanding in the defense against black magic. I was able to escape by luck because I was always able to get help in time, or because my intuition was accurate. But every time I came here in a daze, I had no idea what I was doing. Stop laughing! "
The bowl of Mottley Rat Tentacle Juice fell to the floor and shattered.
He realized that he was standing up, but he didn't remember how.
Crookshank slipped under the sofa.
Ron and Hermione were no longer smiling.
"You don't know what it's like!
You — none of you have ever faced it. You think it's just reciting a bunch of spells and throwing them at them, like you do in class?
How can you think straight when you know there's nothing between you and death but yourself — your own wisdom, or courage, or whatever — when you know you're going to be killed or tortured in a moment, or watch your friends die. They never tell us in class what it's like to deal with something like that!
And you two sit here and act like I'm a clever boy, and that's why I'm standing here alive, and Cedric's a fool who's messed it up … "
He was so angry, he was shouting, but Hermione thought it was all right.
Because this was the real him.
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