"All right there, Harry?" Ron said as the reached the door to Flitwick's classroom.
He'd been lost in thought and hadn't even realised they'd arrived. "Oh yeah," he said, stepping back to let a few Ravenclaws rush into the room. He lowered his voice. "Um... bit nervous, I guess. Been a while."
Hermione understood what he hadn't said. She knew he was leery of speaking Parseltongue in front of everyone. "They're going to have to know sooner or later," she said, giving him that kind smile again. This time Harry found it sort of irritating.
"You think?"
Ron put a hand on his arm. "Come on, it'll be all right. It's a written test anyway."
Harry felt better, then. He knew he couldn't put off the inevitable forever, but still... yeah, he felt a lot better. Going in, he sat at a long table with Ron at one side and Hermione on the other. Neville saw him sit down and gave him an encouraging smile, and started to say something, but Flitwick started talking then so he had to fall silent.
"Wands away, everyone. Parchment and quill, that's what you'll need for this morning," the little man said in his usual jovial voice, beaming at all of them from the raised platform he used for lectures. He surveyed the hubbub for a moment, then added, "Ah, look who we have back with us. Mr. Potter, nice to see you here. Very nice indeed. Class, everyone say welcome back to Mr. Potter."
They did, a good number of them grinning like idiots as they parroted, "Welcome back, Mr. Potter!"
Harry ducked his head. "Uh, thanks. Good to be back." He hoped his other teachers weren't going to make a big deal over him. He wanted to be just Harry. He mentally reviewed his course programme. Transfigurations next, and then after lunch Double Care of Magical Creatures. McGonagall probably wouldn't demand the class welcome him, but she might give him a frosty lecture about Transfiguration not being his best subject and how he'd better work extra hard now that he was in class again. He didn't even want to think about what she might say about his snake-and-lion crest. She had to know already that Harry was in both Houses, but Harry still didn't think she was going to care for his crest. And as for Hagrid... he'd probably give Harry a big hug and pick him up and whirl him around, or something equally embarrassing.
He suddenly wished he had Potions on Mondays, so at least he'd have one teacher who would act like it was just ordinary and usual to have Harry Potter returning to class.
Harry looked up to see a piece of chalk beginning to write out the exam question. Compare and contrast hunger and thirst charms. Include a discussion about the ethical considerations of the use of each.
Suddenly buoyed, Harry dipped his quill in ink and began to scratch out his answer. He knew loads about this topic. Draco and he had even played around one day with the hunger charms, seeing if they could make each other hungry enough to eat things they normally wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. Harry had won when he'd made Draco gobble down some meatloaf. Hmm, maybe he could include that when he got to discussing ethics. It wasn't too nice to make somebody eat food they hated... unless you were just fooling around, of course...
"Mr. Potter."
Flitwick's thin, reedy voice made him look up. "Sir?"
"I'd like to use this time to see you perform a few of the charms we covered in your absence. If you would come up here with me? Come along, now."
Up to the raised platform where he'd be on display for the whole class to gawk at, especially when Parseltongue began spilling out his mouth? Harry didn't think so.
"But I need to finish my test, don't you think, sir?"
Flitwick shifted from foot to foot, reminding Harry strangely of a dancing goblin. Not that goblins ever danced. "No, no, your earlier essay on this subject was more than adequate to demonstrate your grasp of it. Consider yourself excused from the test."
Harry had to frown at that. He didn't want special treatment, especially when all it did was garner him resentful glares from the Ravenclaws. "Really, sir, I'd rather do the test and then see you during office hours for the other," he said rather desperately.
Beneath the table, Hermione patted his knee. Harry knocked her hand off of him and gave her a warning look not to coddle him again.
"Young man, I set this test on purpose so that I might have time to assess your wandwork. Written assignments are all well and good but we mustn't forget that we are here primarily to learn the practice of Charms."
Great, now the Gryffindors were glaring at him, too. Like it was his fault the Charms teacher had decided to give a test.
"Now, Mr. Potter."
Flitwick's voice at the end was about as stern as it could get. He even sounded like he might take points if Harry dithered any longer. And that was all he needed. The Gryffindors would get angry; they hardly ever lost points in Charms class. And half the points would come from Slytherin, which would not do Snape's temper any good.
"Yes, Professor." Sighing, Harry pushed back his chair. It didn't help that when he got to the end of the row, Seamus snickered and told him to be good. Harry had a strong urge to cast a hunger charm right then and there. A strong one, so Seamus would have to sit there starving while he tried to write about the topic.
Mastering the impulse, he joined the teacher on the raised platform. There was hardly room for them both up there, but Flitwick didn't seem worried. "Well? Wand at the ready. Let's start with weather charms. Localized, please. The other students surely don't want their hard work drenched. So, a bit of rain, right there." Flitwick pointed to a strip of empty space below them. "All right, then?"
"Yeah," Harry muttered. It felt like his throat was closing over. People were staring at him already. It wasn't every day students got called up to give private demonstrations, and besides, they'd all heard months ago that he'd lost his magic. Death Eaters had spread the news far and wide, hoping to demoralize the Order. So of course they were curious. Harry really couldn't blame them for that.
He couldn't even blame Ron and Hermione for looking alarmed to see him begin to brandish his wand. They knew he was pretty good at making sure his magic didn't flow through it, but they also knew just how violent his spells could get when his wand did come into play. They were probably imagining the whole classroom flooding, washing students, desks, and a screaming Flitwick out into the corridor.
With a deep breath, Harry adjusted his wand angle to one that looked good but wouldn't work, and then, looking down the length of his arm and at the ring his father had transfigured, he began to murmur the incantation for rain. He didn't put much effort into it, but that part wasn't resentment at being put on display like this. It was because he was supposed to look a little bit inept. Word was supposed to spread that for all Harry Potter was back in class, he wasn't so great at magic these days.
He might as well not have bothered; nobody paid any attention to the water falling from the ceiling, not after they heard what he had to say to put it there. He could hardly hear himself over the shocked gasps that began to ripple through the classroom. He's doing it again.... Haven't heard that in years... Could have gone without ever hearing it again, myself.... Was that Parseltongue?.... No, it was German.
That last comment actually reminded him of Draco. Harry might have laughed if not for the fact that several students were actually rearing back in their chairs.