Disclaimer: Not mine.
Ginny sat alone in the compartment, the door shut and locked. She had cast the spell on the door’s glass pane the way Hermione had spent days teaching her “ to anyone walking past it would appear that this compartment was full, but its inhabitants unspecific.
She checked her watch “ six o’clock. The train would pull in at Hogwarts in under half an hour, and it was time for Ron, Harry and Hermione to arrive. Ginny got up, went to the window and opened it, leaning out and squinting through the drizzle to see the length of the scarlet train. Every window was lit. Perfect. She pulled herself back in and shut the window again. Then she turned out the light, turned it on, turned it off and turned it on again, signalling to Harry which compartment she was in. Now she just had to wait.
One by one, three dark shapes swooped in to level with the train. The first waved a wand, Vanishing the window, and Ginny pulled her coat over her shoulders as the wind cut through the compartment and the figures slid in. As soon as she had gotten gratefully off of her broomstick, Hermione replaced the window pane, and warmth started to seep slowly back in. She lifted her hood.
“Have you got that bag I asked you to bring?” she asked wearily, sitting down next to Harry and Ron. Ginny smiled and handed it to her.
“Nice to see you too,” she joked, before becoming more serious. “Well? Did you get the…” she left the question hanging. Harry nodded and yawned sleepily. Ginny looked between the three of them, cautiously. “Are you alright?”
Hermione and Harry nodded but Ron groaned, gesturing for the bag. Hermione passed it to him and he took out a small towel, drying his skin as he tugged up the leg of his jeans. Ginny winced when she saw that his knee was bruised and bloody.
“What happened?” she asked, looking at the three of them. Harry raised a pale face out of his arms to explain, but Ron got there first.
“I fell out of a tree.”
At this, Hermione stifled a semi-hysterical giggle, and Harry grinned at Ginny.
“What he means is he “” he began but stopped, laughing, when Ron threw the bag at him.
They spent the next twenty minutes talking and laughing, although Ginny could see that the smiles of the other three had a slightly forced quality, especially as they explained what had happened. But soon the train was pulling into Hogsmeade station and they could hear students up and down the train gathering their luggage.
Fifteen minutes after that they were sitting down at the familiar house tables. The Great Hall was as splendid as ever as Harry looked around.
There was an old man with a long grey beard sitting at the high table, talking to Professor Flitwick. He seemed strangely familiar, and as he turned back, Harry suddenly realized why.
“It’s the barman from the Hog’s Head!” someone hissed down the table, and immediately every student had a whispered opinion to add.
“What’s a barman doing here?”
“If you look at the table, he’s got to be the new professor.”
“Yeah, but of what? Alcohol?”
“I’m up for it.” Dean grinned. “Firewhisky anyone?”
“He looks familiar, and I’ve never been to the Hog’s Head…”
“Yeah, right.”
“I haven’t!”
A sudden hush fell on the table as the doors swung open and the first years walked in, led by Hagrid. As they passed, Ron muttered to Harry, “He’s got to be teaching Defence, I reckon. All our Defence teachers are weird.” Harry smiled briefly, his attention quickly returning to the old man. When he had first seen him at the Hog’s Head he had seemed familiar, and even here there was something about him…
By now the Sorting Hat had finished its song and the soon-to-be-sorted students were stood in a nervous huddle before it. Hagrid unfurled a scroll of parchment and began to read aloud.
“Anderson, Jade!” A girl with shoulder-length, mousy-brown hair who was clenching and unclenching her fists in nervousness stepped up and placed the Sorting Hat gingerly on her head.
“HUFFLEPUFF!”
Relieved, the girl went to sit at the applauding Hufflepuff table as more names were called. As “Clarke, Emma” (“RAVENCLAW!”) was being sorted, Hermione lent over and muttered to Harry and Ron.
“Doesn’t she look a bit familiar to you?”
“Day, Sarah!”
“HUFFLEPUFF!” The girl was pale but smiling as she sat down next to Jade Anderson with the cheering Hufflepuffs. Harry turned back to ask Hermione who she meant, but then Ginny nudged him sharply in the ribs and whispered,
“Look, there’s Gabrielle!”
“Delacour, Gabrielle!”
Ginny showed Harry her crossed fingers.
“GRYFFINDOR!” The pretty little blonde girl hopped of the stool and quickly sat down next to Ginny, who had moved along to make room for her. She was grinning widely as the table applauded. Harry looked at Hermione.
“Who?”
“The woman next to McGonagall.” Harry frowned, and looked up at the high table as “Gadsden, Andrew” was sorted into Slytherin. Hermione was right - there was a slender woman wearing toffee-coloured robes sitting between Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout. She had long brown hair down to her waist and her face looked oddly familiar. But then she put her head to one side as the next student sat down (“Hamilton, Grace!” - “GRYFFINDOR!” “ Harry clapped half-heartedly) and the candlelight caught her face a different way, making Harry sure he didn’t know her.
“Mather, Aisha!”
“SLYTHERIN!”
“Morris, Sophie!”
“RAVENCLAW!”
“Myth, Callisto!”
“SLYTHERIN!”
“Rust, Ewan!” A tall boy with an expression as though he had just trodden on something unpleasant sat down on the stool.
“SLYTHERIN!”
Smiling in a superior sort of way, he joined the Slytherin table. Someone from Gryffindor booed him quietly as he sat down. Looking around the hall, Harry could see that the Slytherin table was easily the fullest “ and even they had a few people missing, notably Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. Gryffindor table was next, and then Ravenclaw. But Hufflepuff looked as though half the students were absent, and Harry wondered what had made those who were returning do so.
“Stokes, Sophie!”
“GRYFFINDOR!” Harry clapped with the rest of his table as a nervous girl with dark brown hair joined them. He continued looking around at the students; he could see that everyone who had been in the D.A. the year before last had returned, and the majority of the older students. That was good; at least those who were there would know how to defend themselves, if it came to it. Hopefully.
“Trenear, Rebecca!”
“RAVENCLAW!”
Harry shook his head to clear the dark thoughts from it. The last girl to be sorted had short blonde hair that matched that of one of the second year Ravenclaw boys, and Harry wondered vaguely if they were related. Hagrid called out her name.
“Ward, Ellen!”
“RAVENCLAW!”
As she sat down next to the older boy, Harry saw them link hands under the table. But then Professor McGonagall rose, and all the noise in the hall faded quickly away. She surveyed the students as she spoke.
“Welcome, first years. And welcome back to all of our more familiar students. As most of you will know, I have been appointed as the new Headmistress, and as such, I will no longer be teaching Transfiguration.”
No one commented at this; it had been expected. Professor McGonagall continued.
“Therefore, this year we have three staff announcements. Firstly, I would like you to welcome Professor Tonks to the position of Transfiguration Professor.” Harry’s mouth dropped open. He glanced at Ron, Hermione and Ginny, who were all mirroring his expression as they clapped. The woman in question nodded her head to the applause politely. She looked nothing like Tonks “ but then, Harry realised with a sudden feeling of stupidity, Tonks was a Metamorphmagus; she wouldn’t have to. But if she was here under a different face, why had she kept the same name? Professor McGonagall was speaking again.
“Secondly, the position of Head of Gryffindor house, in respect of our previous Headmaster’s wishes, goes to Professor Rubeus Hagrid.” Harry, caught by surprise, nevertheless applauded as loudly as the red-faced Hagrid grinned broadly from his seat at the High Table. Professor McGonagall waited for the applause to die down before continuing.
“All of you, other than our new first years, will remember our previous Headmaster: Professor Albus Dumbledore. And for some of you, adapting to life here at Hogwarts without him will be strange. But yet we will continue to strive for the excellent standards that make us one of the most exceptional schools in the magical community. And with this in mind, may I welcome our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor “ Professor Aberforth Dumbledore.”
The entire hall went utterly silent. If Harry had thought he had been shocked at seeing Tonks, it was nothing on how he felt now. The other professors on the table began to clap and, slowly, the rest of the school joined in. Harry couldn’t believe it “ and by the expressions on the faces of everyone else around him, they couldn’t either. The old man who had acknowledged the claps was the right age to be a cousin, or a brother, but Professor Dumbledore didn’t have a brother…or did he? Harry felt suddenly uncomfortable as he realised that he had never known anything about the Headmaster’s personal life, despite the Professor knowing almost every detail of Harry’s. Professor Dumbledore had never spoken of a family, and Harry had assumed that he was as alone as Harry was. Harry searched his memory. In all their talks, had the Headmaster ever mentioned…yes! Now that he thought about it, Harry could remember his voice, comforting Hagrid after Rita Skeeter had revealed his being a half-giant.
“My own brother, Aberforth, was prosecuted for practising inappropriate charms on a goat. It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He held his head high and went about his business as usual! Of course, I’m not entirely sure he can read, so that may not have been bravery…” Harry almost snorted with laughter. He didn’t sound like teaching material. But Ron was looking at him strangely as the food appeared on the table, so he mouthed “later” to him and began to help himself to Yorkshire puddings.
The feast finished more quickly than Harry would have thought possible, and before long Professor McGonagall was rising once more. She waited until they were all quiet, and then spoke.
“And after that excellent feast, I have several more announcements. Firstly, for those who do not know, day visits to the village of Hogsmeade are normally open to those in third year or above. However, this year, there will be no such trips.” The new third years were sharing angry glances, but most of the older students nodded in acceptance. The staff or the Governors had obviously decided the danger was too great.
“Also, I am very sorry to have to announce that, this year, there will be no Quidditch tournament.” This time, the entire student body burst into complaint. Most people looked appalled, and Harry was with them. Quidditch was the one thing that kept the school together “ however competitive it might be, Quidditch was something to think about that wasn’t schoolwork or the latest tragedy. How could McGonagall even consider “
“The Board of Governors has decided that it is only under these conditions that the school could be reopened. I know you will all be as horrified as I am by this decision. The Tournament keeps our houses together, and our morale high.” Professor McGonagall looked as though she was holding back considerable anger. “However, we must not let this disappointment trouble us, or dampen our spirits. This school, as I mentioned before, is the greatest place for magical education in the world “ and we will not let that reputation fall because of recent events.” She took a breath, calmer now. “May I also remind our new sixth years that, due to their being postponed last summer, their O.W.L.’s will begin the day after tomorrow. I trust you have all been using the summer to revise.” Harry glanced up the table and saw Ginny’s friends looking grim, but Ginny whispered to him,
“It’s alright, she told us in our letters. We get the results almost immediately, and then start N.E.W.T. classes.” He nodded, feeling a jolt of guilt that he had never considered asking Ginny about her exams.
“Think you know what you’re doing?” he asked. Ginny gave a half-nod, half-shrug, and turned back to look at the High Table.
“Seventh year students who have not already passed their Apparition tests should sign up on the house notice-boards. That is all. Good night.”
They left the hall quickly, and soon they were trudging up the steps and along the familiar corridors towards the Gryffindor tower. Ron nudged him, speaking in an undertone.
“What were you grinning at before the feast?” he asked. Hermione heard and whispered something to Ginny, and the four of them fell behind the other students to talk more privately. Harry quickly explained what he had remembered, and Ginny giggled.
“Inappropriate charms on a goat? A bit worrying, that one,” she said. Ron snorted.
“That’s what I thought,” said Harry. Hermione looked confused.
“But if he’s Dumbledore’s brother, then why would he work in the Hog’s Head?” Harry turned to her.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that magical abilities normally run in the blood! He could be doing anything, he could really help Dumbledore in the war, but he’s running a pub with a bit of a “ well “ dodgy reputation in Hogsmeade. Why?” she asked. Ron grinned.
“Maybe that’s where he keeps the goats.”
Harry and Ginny burst out laughing.
“Ron!” said Hermione. “That isn’t funny.” But she was struggling not to laugh herself.
“If you think about it,” Ginny said as they approached the portrait of the Fat Lady, “it makes sense. I mean, lots of people use the Hog’s Head as a place to meet and talk about stuff. We used it for the DA the year before last.”
“And that’s where Professor Trelawney made the prophecy about me and Voldemort,” Harry realised, lowering his voice.
“And I bet loads of other stuff happens there “ and he’d be in just the right place to know, wouldn’t he!” Ron agreed. They stepped through the portrait hole and let it swing shut behind them.
“Well, we’ll see.”
Hermione wished the boys good night as she and Ginny walked away from them towards the girl’s dormitories and Harry and Ron trudged up the stairs to the boy’s. A short time later, Harry was lying in his familiar four-poster, his eyes still open. Maybe it was because of the journey back from Little Hangleton, which had left him with a sore back, or maybe it was the little angry prickles that kept flaring up in his scar, but he couldn’t seem to relax. He tried to think about something else; he wondered again why Tonks would be teaching at Hogwarts. But his thoughts kept drifting away from Tonks and onto the one thing he had been refusing to think about since the night on the Astronomy Tower “ Snape. An image of the scowling, greasy-haired potions master appeared in Harry’s mind.
“Blocked again, and again, and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!” A surge of anger, fresh and harsh, burst through Harry and he rolled over onto his side, clenching his fists. He, Harry, had been talking about Snape for years and no-one had listened “ no, that wasn’t true, Harry realised. Professor Dumbledore had listened. But he had always dismissed Harry’s concerns, explaining away some things and keeping his reasons to himself others, but always trusting, always knowing that Harry would always have no choice but to hope his Professor was right. But he had been wrong.
Harry pushed these thoughts away. He, Ron and Hermione knew what they had to do. That was all that mattered now.
He could hear Ron and Neville’s snores in the otherwise silent dormitory, and had a sudden, unconnected burst of longing. If only he could be as oblivious to the world as they were now.
*
The next morning, Harry was sitting at the breakfast table listening to Ron and Dean argue about the unfairness of cancelling the Quidditch Tournament, when he heard someone call his name.
“Potter!” Harry turned. Professor McGonagall was walking towards him. “Could I have a word outside?” He nodded, stood, and walked with her to the Entrance Hall where she stopped and turned to him. “I wanted to know what you would think about reinstating Dumbledore’s Army,” she said frankly. Harry stared at her for a moment before realising what she was talking about.
“I think it would be a great morale booster, not to mention the advantages of having students who won’t panic so much if there is an attack,” she continued. Harry frowned, thinking. It was true that most of the students who had been in the D.A. were still at Hogwarts “ except, of course, the students who had been in their sixth or seventh years when the D.A. was formed. Harry wasn’t sure if they’d all want to start it up again, though, and said as much.
“But I’ll ask.” Professor McGonagall nodded curtly, satisfied, and then her face softened slightly.
“How are you?” Harry gave her a brief, grim smile and she seemed to understand. “Very well, Mr Potter. Perhaps you should return to the table “ I believe Professor Hagrid should be giving out timetables.” Harry nodded and returned to see that Ron and Dean were looking up and down the hall for him.
“Where were you, mate?” Ron asked. Harry lowered his voice and explained. When he had finished, Dean shook his head.
“I think she’s right Harry, it’s a good idea, but I don’t know if many people will want to “ I do,” he said hastily, seeing Harry’s expression, “but it’s like putting yourself up as a target, isn’t it, if there is an attack?” Harry was saved answering him as Hagrid reached them and handed them their time-tables.
“Well done, Hagrid!” Ron said, grinning. Hagrid went slightly red behind his beard.
“Ta. Can barely believe it meself.” He moved on, and Harry looked at his time-table for today’s lessons: Transfiguration, double Defence Against the Dark Arts, a free period and double Charms. Could be worse… Harry thought to himself.
“Come on,” he said to Ron. “We’ll pass the message around, about the D.A. “ we can get together tonight, before all the sixth years do their O.W.L.’s.”
“Eight o’clock in the Room of Requirement?” he asked, and Harry nodded as they made their way to the Transfiguration classroom. They were glad to see that Hermione had already sat down and saved them seats near the front. When they sat down either side of her, she pointed at the blackboard. On it were the words, ‘Professor Andromeda Tonks’.
“Andromeda?” Ron asked. “Definitely not the Tonks we know, then.”
“They’re probably related, though,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “I mean, it can’t be a very common name, can it?” Harry just shrugged as the Professor herself entered the room carrying a stack of books, which she placed on the desk. She stood at the front of the room without speaking, and waited for them to quiet.
“Welcome to Transfiguration, seventh-years. My name, as you can see, is Professor Andromeda Tonks,” she said with a small smile, gesturing to the board.
“But that doesn’t tell you much about me. So, just for your information, I have worked as an under-mage for the International Union of Spellcrafters for eight years, specialising in Transfiguration. I am also,” her hair changed to bright green before returning to normal, “a Metamorphmagus.” Many students in the class exchanged interested or excited looks as she continued. “Every child in this school has been told to address me as ‘Professor Tonks’. However, you are not children anymore. You are all of-age, intelligent young witches and wizards, and deserve to be treated as such.”
She smiled again, and tapped her wand sharply on the board. The words ‘Professor Andromeda Tonks’ disappeared, and were replaced by ‘Andy/Tonks’. Professor Tonks turned back to the class.
“I’m not going to turn all Dolores Umbridge on you and say I want to be your friend,” “ several people giggled “ “but I am willing to treat you with the same respect as I expect you to show me. You’re in for a tough year; I want to make it as fun and easy for you as possible. So,” she finished with a grin, “could you all get out a piece of parchment and a quill, and I’ll quiz you on what you already know, to see what you’re struggling with.” The class groaned good-naturedly as they reached into their bags.
They spent the rest of the lesson completing and marking the quiz, which briefly covered almost everything they had ever learnt, from first year to sixth. They left the class talking and joking.
As Harry and Ron explained to Hermione what Professor McGonagall had said, they walked up the staircase to get to their next class: Defence Against the Dark Arts. When they entered, most of the class was already there. They took seats and waited. Harry looked around. Unlike several of its previous incarnations, the classroom was relatively plain. The Professor’s desk was uncluttered and, like in transfiguration, the name ‘Professor Aberforth Dumbledore’ was written in a strangely jagged script on the board. However, Professor Dumbledore didn’t appear to be present, and Harry spotted a few people looking at their watches. He checked his own. Fifteen minutes had gone since the start of the lesson. Most people were sitting around, chatting happily or finishing homework from other classes. The door to the corridor was open, and a few people near the door were glancing out every so often, checking that there were not any teachers patrolling to catch them effectively skiving a lesson. He turned back to Ron and Hermione.
“Where d’you think “”
But he was interrupted by Dean Thomas, who called loudly across the classroom,
“Now this is the kind of N.E.W.T. I could do “ a test in doing nothing!” Everyone laughed, until suddenly a voice was heard; and it didn’t belong to a student.
“No doubt you could, Thomas.”
Several people screamed. Ron jumped backwards, causing his chair to hit the desk behind him with a bang. Harry was reminded of Professor Moody’s first class. Standing in front of the blackboard, as though he had always been there, was their new defence professor. The whole room went utterly silent as he surveyed them, taking in every face. Then, without moving, he spoke again.
“Brown “ close the door. Everyone else, in your places.” Lavender quickly obeyed as the rest of the class sat down without speaking. After another moment of watching them, Professor Dumbledore clapped his hands once.
“Right. Now, can anyone tell me how long I’ve been here?” Everyone looked around at each other; no one seemed to know. Then, cautiously, Seamus Finnegan raised his hand. Professor Dumbledore looked at him.
“Finnegan?”
“I think you’ve been here since the bell rang, sir.” Professor Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.
“And why do you think that?”
“Just our luck, sir?” Seamus said. The whole class held its breath “ this was the moment that would show them exactly what kind of a teacher they would have for the next year.
There was a pause, and then the man’s face lit up with a grin that reminded Harry of Fred and George watching the effects of a new prank. Professor Dumbledore nodded his head at Seamus in amusement.
“A smart alec, but correct. Can anyone truthfully say that they knew I was there?” Most of the class shook their heads.
“Right. Now, you’ll probably want to know what you’ll be doing, so I can start by telling you that by Christmas I’ll have a hard time catching any of you lot out with something like that.” He looked around. “I have received from Professors Lupin, Moody, and Umbridge a basic list of all you have studied previously. You’ve covered magical creatures and dangerous curses, along with quickly learning how to defend yourself from politics.” There was a ripple of laughter, and Professor Dumbledore gave a wry grin. “This year, you’re going to combine that knowledge, and learn how to use it day-to-day.”
“Including the politics, sir?” called Dean. There was another ripple of laughter, and the Professor nodded.
“That especially. Now, we’ll start with the basic methods of camouflage “ can anyone give me an example?”
After class, Harry, Ron and Hermione set out to spread the time and place of the meeting to all those concerned, and by the end of charms he was confidant that everyone would be there.
*
At about a quarter to eight they made their way to the Room of Requirement. The first to arrive was Lavender Brown, looking more nervous than usual on her own. She eyed Hermione cautiously as she came and sat next to them. Next were Colin and Dennis Creevey, then the Patil twins. Slowly, the room filled up. Finally, at eight o’clock, Neville Longbottom and Susan Bones were the last to join the chattering crowd, holding hands shyly.
“Right,” Harry began, clearing his throat, “welcome back.” He looked around the room. Including himself, Ron and Hermione, there were twenty-two people; everyone still young enough to be at Hogwarts had come back, and Gabrielle Delacour was smiling as she sat between Lavender Brown and Dennis Creevey.
“We’ve lost a few people, but Ginny,” he nodded at her, “has talked to Fred and George, and they’re going to try and organise everyone who left “ they’ll be having meetings to keep in touch every other week, and we might be able to meet up in the holidays.” Several people nodded, and Ernie MacMillan raised a hand. Harry nodded to him.
“Me and Hannah were wondering,” he said, “not that there’s any problem with just having a smaller group, but should we let more people in now?” He turned to the group at large. “I mean, it’s not like anyone’s denying that He’s back anymore, and I know a few people who would be more than ready to join.” Terry Boot spoke up from the back of the room.
“Maybe, but we’ve got a decent Defence Professor now; this is more for extra practice than anything else, and the others can do that anytime they like.” There was a hubbub of discussion at this while everyone gave their opinions, before Gabrielle spoke up, loud enough to be heard by everyone.
“I know I wasn’t here the last time,” she said, her French accent noticeably fainter than her sister’s, “but wasn’t everyone picked because they could be trusted to do the right thing even if it wasn’t what everybody else was doing?” The students seemed to agree, and Hermione finally made her opinion heard.
“I think Gabrielle is right, but we should vote on it. Who thinks we should let more people into the group?” Several people raised their hands; Ernie, Harry noticed, seemed to have changed his mind. Hermione counted them quickly, and then continued, “And who thinks we shouldn’t?” There were many more hands raised for this, but Hermione counted them even so. “We’re not letting anyone in, then.”
“Hang on, Hermione “ what about Gabrielle?” Everyone turned and looked at Ginny, who had spoken.
“Well, we’re saying we won’t let anyone new in, but Gabrielle’s already here “ no offence, Gabrielle,” she apologised. Gabrielle shook her head in acceptance as there was a pause for thought.
“It’s hardly fair to turf her out; and anyway, she’s here now. And didn’t you say she’s related to you, Ginny?” This was from Luna, who had been quiet so far. There were several nods, and Harry spoke up.
“Does anyone have a problem with Gabrielle joining us?” No one spoke, and a few shook their heads. “Right, that’s okay then.” Harry was relieved that no one had raised a complaint; he wasn’t sure what else could be said in Gabrielle’s defence.
“Shall we get started, then?”
They had a productive meeting, going over most of the basic things they had done two years before, and the Creevey brothers seemed to take great delight in coaching Gabrielle, the youngest, through ‘Expelliarmus’.
They stopped after not long before curfew, and collapsed on the cushions on one side of the room. Lavender, to Harry’s surprise, did not join in the gossiping, but sat on the edge of the group with Dean and Seamus, keeping herself to herself. He wondered if this had anything to do with her and Ron’s break up last year “ could she still be sore about it?
The conversation moved onto this year’s prefects.
“Yeah, who’s Head Boy and Girl this year?” asked Anthony Goldstein. There was a sort of generalised shrug; no one seemed to know. Then Neville raised his hand sheepishly and Lavender gave a small wave. Harry was surprised, but tried not to let it show.
“Cool,” he said. “Well done Neville! And Lavender,” he added hastily, realising that he had inadvertently missed her out. Neville was looking quite pleased with himself as he was congratulated, but Lavender looked a little embarrassed.
“Well, it would have been Hermione,” she said. “It should have been. I said so to Professor McGonagall. But she just said that you “” she spoke directly to Hermione “- were doing some extra-curricular studies this year and would have been too busy to be Head Girl as well. Harry stomped on Ron’s foot as he opened his mouth to disagree, while Hermione nodded. Someone must’ve told McGonagall about us three leaving in the summer. It made sense “ after all, she was a member of Order, she’d have heard about the ‘breach of security’. The conversation continued, slowly turning to families.
“Hey, that’s a point “ Seamus, how comes your mum let you come back? Didn’t she say she wouldn’t let you?” Colin Creevey piped up. Harry started with realisation; he’d become so accustomed to seeing his dorm mates every year he had forgotten that Seamus had only been allowed to stay for Dumbledore’s funeral after a furious shouting match with his mother in the entrance hall.
Seamus shrugged.
“I told her I was going whether she liked it or not, and when she said that I wasn’t I walked out. I stayed ‘round Dean’s for a couple of days before she gave in.” He spoke casually, but there was a quiet tension in the way he didn’t look at anyone directly. Harry was glad when Neville changed the subject quickly.
It wasn’t long before someone mentioned the time, and people left in twos and threes as if Umbridge was still hanging around. Harry was strangely tired, and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
*
Time passed quickly, in a flurry of meetings and increasing levels of homework. Harry never thought he would be glad of not having Quidditch practice, but to be truthful he didn’t know how he would have managed the workload with regular weekly practises as well.
On the evening of the thirty-first of October Ron met Harry and Hermione in the library, and once she had finished ‘tidying up’ her Charms essay they headed down to the Halloween feast.
On their way across the Entrance Hall, Professor Tonks called out to him.
“Potter, could you go up to the Headmistress’s office “ there’s someone there who wants to talk with you.” Harry nodded and left Ron and Hermione to go without him, somewhat gloomily, wondering if it would be Scrimgeour trying to persuade him to become the ministry’s pet again. As he passed her, Professor Tonks muttered, “The password’s ‘bumblebee’.” He didn’t notice that behind him, Ginny smiled softly and began to explain something to Ron and Hermione. When he reached the gargoyle that guarded the door to the Headmistress’s office, he gave the password and entered.
Looking around, he realised with a small pang of loss that it had changed; the delicate silver instruments no longer puffed and whirred in their places but had been replaced by Professor McGonagall’s belongings. On the wall, in its golden frame, the portrait of Albus Dumbledore slept quietly. Harry wondered if it had awoken at any point since he had last seen it.
“Hello, Harry.” Harry jumped. Remus Lupin was standing to one side of the Headmistress’s desk. Harry had been so distracted by the changes in the office he hadn’t noticed him.
“Hello Professor.” Lupin smiled.
“Remus, please. We’ve known each other long enough.” Harry nodded, unsure whether he could get used to this, before asking,
“Profess-Remus, why are you here?”
“Ginny said you had been planning to visit Godric’s Hollow. I knew you hadn’t been before, and I wondered “ I go there myself on Halloween, to visit…” he trailed off questioningly. Harry was surprised. He had told Ginny about his plans, but had supposed she hadn’t thought any more of it. He had, of course, but…he realised Remus was still waiting for an answer.
“Yeah, I’d like to go “ I mean, if I can,” he said. Remus nodded.
“I already checked with Professor McGonagall. She says it’s ok, as long as you’re back before curfew.” He gestured towards the fireplace. “By floo?” he asked. Harry nodded again, trying to block out all the thoughts that were buzzing around his head. Taking a fistful of Floo powder, he followed Remus into the flames, wondering what he would find on the other side.
*
The two quotes used are credited below:
“My own brother, Aberforth, was prosecuted for practising inappropriate charms on a goat. It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He held his head high and went about his business as usual! Of course, I’m not entirely sure he can read, so that may not have been bravery…” - GoF p495 (UK paperback)
“Blocked again, and again, and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!” - HBP p711 (UK paperback)
Thanks for reading, reviews are appreciated.
Hazel