Their next class after lunch was in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. Lunch had been interesting, but not as radical as Draco had hoped. In fact he and Harry had simply started a trend. It appeared that people had just been waiting for someone to have the guts not to stick to usual school routine and then houses were lost as year groups took over.
No one else came and sat on the Slytherin table, but one of the younger Slytherins did go and join the Ravenclaws.
Remarkably, none of the years gave away anything about their first classes to the others, so what they were in for, no one had a clue.
Draco was watching Harry carefully for any signs of fallout from his run in with Fitzsimons, but so far he was pretty sure his soulmate was just a bit tired from shielding against all the rather uncontrolled magic from the previous class.
Sometimes it seemed like only yesterday that they had been safe in their little room in the hospital wing, away from the rest of the school, and yet Harry had progressed so far since then. If he was honest they both had; he really was getting better at not trying to kill anyone who so much as looked at Harry the wrong way. Not that he was telling anyone that any time soon, of course.
Their year group walked to their next class together with several people guessing at what it might be. Draco didn't really think Albus' reasons for not telling everyone what the classes were, were particularly valid, and most likely had more to do with the headmaster finally going senile, but there was nothing they could do about it.
Who would be teaching the class was also a matter that no one had seen fit to reveal, and so he wasn't particularly surprised when they walked into the DADA classroom and found a complete stranger sitting on the desk at the front. He just hoped that the woman wasn't as incompetent as Fitzsimons had been, or he was going to have to have words with the Ministry on their choice of employees.
What did rather make him sit up and take notice was Harry's reaction. Upon seeing the strange, middle aged witch his soulmate brightened with recognition and smiled broadly. Not the usual reaction to someone totally unfamiliar.
"Hi Tonks," Harry greeted cheerfully, as they walked in.
"Wotcha, Harry," the previously unidentified female said with a laugh, "thanks for blowing my cover."
At that Harry stopped, blinked and seemed to realise for the first time that Tonks was not wearing her own face. The stab of worry and guilt that flew through Harry as he realised what he had done caused Draco to move in protectively. However, Tonks was still grinning as she screwed up her face in concentration and the usual, although blue haired, Auror was revealed.
"Don't look so down, chuck," she said, hopping off the desk and almost falling on her face as she stood on her own shoe lace, "or your blond bombshell might kill me. Hello everyone, I'm Tonks, please make yourselves comfortable."
Harry still felt unsure about whether he had just ballsed up the beginning of their friend's class, but Draco was pretty sure she had been joking. He steered Harry to sit down.
"Note well, class," Tonks said with a bright smile, "even metamorphmagi abilities are bog all use against a Hecatemus. How did you know it was me, Harry?"
There was a familiar blank look on Harry's face that made Draco smile; if anything could be relied upon it was that Harry would do something that he could not explain.
[You probably saw her magical signature without thinking about it,] Draco offered helpfully. [I suspect a metamorphmagus is somewhat distinctive.]
"I don't think I was really looking with my eyes," Harry admitted sheepishly, but finally began to relax. "Sorry."
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Defence, Pretence, Offence (Hecatemus Book #2)Fanfiction
Sequel to "Gold Tinted Spectacles" (https://www.wattpad.com/story/88859510-gold-tinted-spectacles-hecatemus-book-1) The threat of open war in on the horizon. The Order and the Ministry are of one accord and both know that where Harry Potter is, Vold...