Harry Potter and the Castle of Dreams
Chapter Eight – “Professor Weasley and Professor Weasley”
Every time he’d taken the Hogwarts Express in the past, Harry had settled into a compartment with his friends and spent the whole ride in their company.
As the train chugged towards Hogsmeade and his final year of school, however, he was too curious about who else was returning to stay in one place. He wandered up and down the cars, leaving Ginny and Luna Lovegood to sit with Neville Longbottom.
Luna, like Ginny, was a “proper” seventh year; Neville had been specially invited back just as Harry himself had. He suspected that everyone in his year – everyone who’s still alive, he thought bitterly – had received the same invitation.
He was proven right almost immediately, as he encountered Ernie MacMillian and Padma Patil one car down. By the time he made his way to the Prefects’ car, he had seen nearly half of his classmates. He stopped here and there to chat. He learned that while Padma was returning, her twin sister was not; she was planning on opening a beauty shop in partnership with Lavender Brown.
There were other absences; both Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan had opted not to return. He was unsurprised that he encountered no Slytherins from his year, although he thought he’d seen, just for a moment, a glimpse of a sharp, angular face and whitish-blond hair as a compartment door was slammed shut just ahead of him while he walked back to Ginny.
But it couldn’t be, he reasoned. Surely Malfoy wouldn’t have been invited back, and even if he had, Harry could not imagine him wanting to return to Hogwarts. For his part, Harry wasn’t sure how he would react if (or when) he encountered Malfoy next. Seven years of taunts and hatred and derision could not just be forgotten, but that was balanced by the fear that Harry knew not only Draco but his whole family had been living under.
Besides, people weren’t always what they seemed. There could be nobility and bravery behind the most terrible façade; the phial full of memories he’d placed in his vault at Gringotts attested to that.
That thought was driven from his mind by a deafening scream of rage that filled his entire body. It went straight through him; he didn’t hear it so much as feel it in every bone and every inch of flesh.
He fell to the floor, hands held to his head in an effort to steady himself against the noise. It echoed through him for a moment or two, and as it faded, he could hear other sounds: the cries of students up and down the train.
Everyone must have heard it; it was impossible that they didn’t. Harry knew that it had not come from anywhere on the train; that scream was not something that could have been produced by a human.
It might have been a dragon, he considered. A mother dragon, waking up and seeing her eggs smashed, he thought. But it had been louder even than that; he could not think of any living creature big enough to make such a sound as he had heard.
He got unsteadily to his feet as compartments opened up and students staggered out just behind him. He registered the door to the next car opening and Ron coming through, pointing out the window as he did.
Harry saw immediately what Ron was gesturing at. A thestral – several thestrals – two or three dozen of them. They were panicked; even from hundreds of feet away it was clear they were afraid. Their fear was unmistakable from the erratic patterns they flew in.
Behind the thestrals, coming from the direction of Hogwarts, was a giant cloud, shifting color as it approached. Harry was confused for a moment - clouds didn’t move like that – until he understood. It wasn’t a cloud, it was owls. What looked like every owl from both Hogwarts and the Hogsmeade post office were flying as fast as their wings could carry them in the wake of the thestrals.
Ron stood next to Harry and they stared at the birds and the thestrals wheeling through the sky in chaotic arcs, as several younger students came up and joined them. It would have been a beautiful sight, Harry decided, if only it wasn’t so completely terrifying. They stared for what seemed like a long time, until Ron’s voice broke the spell:
“Harry, what the hell just happened?”
***
A few minutes later, Hermione joined Harry and Ron, with Ginny, Neville and Luna following behind.
“Maybe it was You-know – Voldemort’s spirit? Maybe he’s not really dead?” Ron was saying.
“It wasn’t Voldemort,” Harry answered impatiently. When will people accept that he’s dead and gone for good this time?
“How can you be sure?”
“If it was Voldemort,” Harry replied, taking a breath to calm himself, “I’d know. It didn’t feel like him,” he finished. Never, that’s when. I guess I can’t blame them. They all wanted to believe he was gone the last time, and nobody wanted to listen when I said he was back. Now it’s just the opposite.
“No,” Ginny agreed, to Harry’s great relief. “And I’d know as well, Ron.” Ron looked back and forth between his sister and Harry and shook his head.
“Well, if you’re so sure, you tell me what it was!”
It was Hermione who answered. “Magic leaves traces behind. There was a lot of dark magic used in the battle. In all the histories, there’s no record of a magical battle that big anywhere,” she said, all eyes now on her. “Maybe that’s what we felt.”
Neville shook his head. “I don’t think that’s it. It was a person.”
“Or a creature,” Luna added.
Harry agreed. “It wasn’t just leftover magic. Someone…something…was shouting out and we all heard it. You all felt it, you know what I’m talking about.”
There was agreement, followed by blank stares and silence. It was broken by Ginny, who gave a shudder as an idea came to her – and to Harry at the same time.
“No, don’t say it, Ginny,” Harry said quickly
“Because you think I’m wrong?” she scoffed.
“Because I think you’re right, and I wish you weren’t,” he said, taking her hand, squeezing it.
Ron smacked a hand to his forehead and groaned. “Would you mind telling the rest of us what you’re talking about?” Hermione put an arm around him, pulled herself close to him. Harry noted the fear that had come suddenly into her eyes.
“Someone - something - doesn’t want us coming back to Hogwarts,” she said. “Whoever they are, they’ve very powerful, to send out that kind of a message.” She stepped away from Ron, blinked twice, and now Harry saw that her fear was gone, replaced by determination. “Well, we have to do something. Ron, can you get Pigwidgeon, and send a note to Professor McGonagall. I’ll go and start sorting out the younger students, the rest of you can help. Calm them down, let them know we’re taking matters in hand.”
Harry wasn’t at all convinced that matters were in hand, but there was no refusing Hermione when she was in full businesslike mode.
***
The remainder of the journey was without incident. Ginny was surprised to find that Hermione had been correct: she and Harry, along with Neville and Luna, had been able to reassure their fellow students. There was much talk along the lines of “If there’s trouble, Harry Potter can sort it out, just like he did You-Know-Who.”
Harry was not particularly comfortable with that, but he handled it with a reasonable amount of grace. Neville, she noticed, got similar treatment; his defiance of Voldemort had not been forgotten. They’re going to tell stories about us forever, she thought. I was there and I barely recognize the things everyone is talking about!
She had no particular wish to be considered a hero, but if it meant that the first and second years would listen to her and do as she asked right now, she could bear it.
By the time the train began to slow as it pulled into Hogsmeade station, the first years were chattering about what Hogwarts was really like and which Houses they’d be sorted into, and the events of the journey had been forgotten. The older students were, mostly, curious to see what Hogwarts looked like three months after the battle. Ginny wondered herself: how much had been repaired, how much was still damaged, and what would never be whole again?
You could ask the same about the people, Ginny thought, I wonder which category George will fall into?
The whistle of the train as it finally came to a stop interrupted that line of thought. Ginny let Harry help with her trunk, and together they emerged from the train to see about half as many carriages as usual waiting for them.
“You’ll have to double up!” Hermione was shouting out. Ginny could just see, far off in the distance, several thestrals still in the sky.
“I guess Hagrid couldn’t herd them all back here in time,” she said.
“I’m amazed he got any of them,” Harry answered, lifting Ginny up into the nearest carriage. He hopped up after her, followed by Neville and Luna. Ernie MacMillian and Hannah Abbott came along a moment later.
“Would you mind if we joined you?” Ernie asked. “It appears we shall have to ride in closer quarters than usual.”
“Not at all,” Harry said, squeezing closer to Ginny. She was squashed in now, caught between Harry and Neville. I wonder if Harry remembers, Neville was my first date ever?
“I do remember,” Harry said, drawing a blank stare from everyone else in the carriage. “And if Neville weren’t such a gentleman, I’d be jealous.”
“We were talking just a minute ago,” Ginny said quickly, “I asked Harry if he remembered that you took me to the Yule Ball, Neville.”
“It appears that Ginny is spoken for now,” Ernie pronounced, “But I daresay that any other witch would consider herself lucky if you chose her.” That earned him an annoyed glare from Hannah and a somewhat confused look from Luna, but Ginny had to agree with him.
Ernie apparently decided then that silence was the better part of valor as the thestral pulling them galloped towards the castle; he didn’t speak until they were almost to the gates.
“Merlin’s beard!” he exclaimed, and, again, Ginny agreed with him. It was unbelievable. As the gates swung open to admit their carriage, Ginny could see no sign of damage; no indication at all that a terrible battle had taken place here so recently.
“You’d never know anything happened!” Hannah breathed, speaking for everyone in the carriage. Looking up at the looming castle, Ginny saw that she was wrong. There was at least one visible wound; the north face of the Astronomy Tower hadn’t been repaired. There was a gaping hole ten feet across, and several broken windows as well.
“See up there?” she pointed out. “Everything else looks good as new, I wonder why the tower hasn’t been?” It was strange; there had been damage far worse elsewhere in the castle, and also damage much less severe, all seemingly repaired.
“Hogwarts is full of mystery, I guess this is just one more,” Harry answered. It was a very unsatisfying response, but, Ginny thought, that just made it more likely to be true.
***
The Great Hall was filling up rapidly; everyone taking their places at their respective House tables. Harry was trying to put the train journey behind him and enjoy the upcoming feast. He hadn’t attended one since his fifth year, and, thanks to Dolores Umbridge, it had been less than satisfying.
This time, he hoped, it would be better.
“Ron,” he heard Ginny say, “What’s Dad doing here?” Harry followed her gaze to the far end of the Gryffindor table, where Mr. Weasley was indeed there, taking animatedly with Hermione. A moment later, there was a yelp from Ron; Ginny had apparently kicked him under the table when he failed to respond.
“What did y’do that for? I’m trying to figure out why Bill is here, and how can I think with you kicking me?”
He hadn’t even heard his sister’s question, lost in thought as he was. “What?” Harry and Ginny said at the same time.
“Look over there!”
Ron was pointing up to the staff table, where Bill Weasley was just now taking a seat. Professor McGonagall was glaring at him, pointing at his ear and scowling. As they watched, Mr. Weasley ran up beside Bill and sat in the empty seat next to him. McGonagall gave a dramatic sigh, and the Great Hall went silent.
“I believe we’re ready for the sorting. Filius, please bring them in,” she called out, and the huge doors opened. Professor Flitwick led in a line of nervous first years, most of them shaking, a few sopping wet thanks to a misadventure crossing the lake. Flitwick scurried up to the staff table and placed the Sorting Hat on a stool just in front. As soon as he took his seat, it began to sing.
It was a very different song than in past years; full of hope and calling for remembrance of the heroes of the war. When it finished, and the ovation from the students died down, Flitwick called out the first name to be sorted:
“Archer, Angela!”
A tiny black-haired girl trotted up to the front of the Hall and, looking like she would rather be anyplace else in the world, put the Sorting Hat on her head. After just a second or two, it cried out “Ravenclaw!” and that table erupted with cheers.
Thirty nine new students later, the Sorting was complete, and Professor McGonagall stood.
“Welcome to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have had the honor of being appointed Headmistress, and I hope that together with our teachers, both old and new, and with all of out, we can once again make this the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world.”
There were cheers, but McGonagall waved them down. “If you please. My first duty is to introduce our new faculty. Professor Flitwick has graciously consented to serve as Deputy Headmaster in addition to his duties teaching Charms. I will continue to teach Transfiguration, for the present, but I hope to find a new teacher, so I can devote all my time to my duties as Headmistress. I would like to welcome two new teachers as well. Considering the, ahem, difficulties of the recent past, the Ministry of Magic has decided, and I agree completely, that Muggle Studies is a vital subject, and so it is now mandatory for all students up to the fifth year. The Ministry has also allowed one of its employees to take a leave from his duties, in order to serve as a full time teacher this year. May I introduce your new Muggle Studies teacher, Mr. Arthur Weasley.”
Mr. Weasley stood, to deafening cheers from the Gryffindor table, and applause ranging from polite to enthusiastic from the other three Houses. Well, Harry thought, that explains a lot! No wonder he didn’t want to give me advice about my career!
“In addition to teaching, Professor Weasley has done us another service. He has provided our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher as well. May I introduce Mr. William Weasley.”
Bill stood, to more cheers. Harry noticed for the first time that Fleur had entered the Hall, standing at the very back, blowing a kiss to her husband.
“May I?” Bill was saying, trying to make himself heard over the students. “I won’t be teaching alone,” he said as the cheers died down. “I’ll have an assistant, who’ll be working with the first years, and hopefully studying to take over the whole job in the future. Harry, get up here!”
Every eye in the Hall turned on Harry. He had not expected to be announced like this, in full view of the whole school.
“Get up there,” Ginny whispered to him. “You faced Voldemort, you can do this!”
There was no arguing with that; he stood and walked up to the staff table, as the students rose and applauded him.
“Thanks,” he said when he got there. “I’ll do my best,” he added, looking out at several hundred people all cheering. For him. I will never, not in a hundred years, get used to this!
He acknowledged the cheers for a moment more before heading back to his seat, wishing all the while that he had his Invisibility Cloak with him. As he went, he cast his gaze to the Slytherin table. There in the back, almost completely hidden by his cloak, was the person he never thought he’d see at Hogwarts again. Malfoy had returned after all.
Despite the rumblings in his stomach, Harry wished for nothing more at this moment than to be able to leave the Great Hall, and to drag Ginny and Ron and Hermione with him. They had a lot to talk about tonight.