The Gloriana Set

"Fighting Evil Is Fun!"

Lunch was a riotous affair at the Gryffindor table as Ron regaled the group with the story of the Potions disaster. To hear Ron tell it, he'd purposely sabotaged his and Lavender's potion to humiliate Malfoy, a result well worth the extra work. The words "orange ferret" figured prominently in the tale, nobody would listen to Hermione's words to the contrary, and she had ample time to bitterly regret not letting the damn potion blow up and kill them all.

Lavender spent lunch looking around the Great Hall for Malfoy, who never appeared. Hermione sighed and sipped her wretched pumpkin juice. She almost felt sorry for the man, and she didn't think that was possible. It had only been two days and she'd already attacked a Malfoy where it really hurt: his heritage and his hair.

Flushed with victory, Ron began lingering beside her between classes, his hand on her back and shoulders. Another dilemma: His behavior had pretty much sapped Hermione's enthusiasm for their dinner Saturday, but she hesitated to cancel it. Maybe alone and away from Malfoy, she could actually get through to Ron, get their friendship on some honest footing. Yes, she'd be mature and calm until Saturday and then they'd work things out like adults.

"Stop hovering, Ron!" she screeched, as he touched her elbow yet again in the halls. "I'm perfectly capable of walking by myself!" Well, that didn't last long. Ron's face looked hurt, then darkened. Would they even make it until the weekend?

She was so irritated, she'd forgotten about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher until she arrived at the classroom door. McGonagall had created a special DADA seminar for select Seventh and Eighth Year "war veterans," with its own teacher. Hermione wondered who it was; she wasn't sure anybody could teach her adequately, except perhaps McGonagall herself, or the ghost of Snape.

"Do we just go in?" Neville asked, shuffling slightly. The rest of the group was silent. Ron and Ginny shrugged, Lavender looked scared, and Luna just peered up at the hallway ceiling, counting blibbering humdingers or something. Even Head Boy Ernie Macmillan didn't look inclined to act.

Well, no sense in waiting. Hermione led the way into the classroom, and everyone stopped and stared. The room had been transformed into a flowery meadow without desks, chalkboards or books. Squashy beanbag chairs formed a tight ring in the center, and giant daisies lined the walls, swaying in a nonexistent wind. In the center of the ring was a small woman.

Their teacher wasn't any ordinary woman, Hermione realized, but a fairy, if a rather large one. She was about the size of a 4-year-old child, with golden hair, a doll face and pink gossamer wings. She wore a flowing, silvery dress and her only concession to her role was a golden stole around her neck with the Hogwarts crest on each end.

"Welcome!" she squeaked, clapping her hands. Her feet hovered about a foot off the floor and her wings fluttered slightly. "I am Professor Bluebell and welcome to my meadow! Please have a seat!"

Hermione and Ron exchanged looks and found seats side-by-side, temporarily united in shock. The others selected beanbags, with Luna sitting on Hermione's other side.

"Oh no, dear, please sit here by me!" Bluebell ordered from her own yellow beanbag. "No wrackspurts will distract you here!" Luna eagerly joined her, leaving the bag beside Hermione empty.

"Who are we missing?" the fairy asked. "Ah, here's a lovely boy! Come in, lovely boy!"

The lovely boy in the doorway was Malfoy, sliding in at the last minute, and Hermione bit her lip. She was really trying to be good here, and Ron was laughing enough for everyone anyway. But Malfoy looked unruffled, if a little hollow-eyed. He dropped gracefully into the orange beanbag on Hermione's left, acting as if being called "lovely boy" by a 3-foot fairy was only his due. Hermione had to admire it.