Chapter 11 Hermione's Helping Hand

Chapter 11 Hermione's Helping Hand

As Hermione had predicted, the sixth-years’ free periods were not the hours of blissful relaxation Ron had anticipated, but times in which to attempt to keep up with

the vast amount of homework they were being set. Not only were they studying as though they had exams every day, but the lessons themselves had become more demanding

than ever before. Harry barely understood half of what Professor McGonagall said to them these days; even Hermione had had to ask her to repeat instructions once or

twice. Incredibly, and to Hermione's increasing resentment, Harry's best subject had suddenly become Potions, thanks to the Half-Blood Prince.

Non-verbal spells were now expected, not only in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but in Charms and Transfiguration too. Harry frequently looked over at his classmates in

the common room or at mealtimes to see them purple in the face and straining as though they had overdosed on U-No-Poo; but he knew that they were really struggling to

make spells work without saying incantations aloud. It was a relief to get outside into the greenhouses; they were dealing with more dangerous plants than ever in

Herbology, but at least they were still allowed to swear loudly if the Venomous Tentacula seized them unexpectedly from behind.

One result of their enormous workload and the frantic hours of practicing non-verbal spells was that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had so far been unable to find time to go

and visit Hagrid. He had stopped coming to meals at the staff table, an ominous sign, and on the few occasions when they had passed him in the corridors or out in the

grounds, he had mysteriously failed to notice them or hear their greetings.

“We've got to go and explain,” said Hermione, looking up at Hagrid's huge empty chair at the staff table the following Saturday at breakfast.

“We've got Quidditch tryouts this morning!” said Ron. “And we're supposed to be practicing that Aguamenti Charm from Flitwick! Anyway, explain what? How are we going

to tell him we hated his stupid subject?”