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SIYE Time:1:59 on 29th March 2024
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Harry Potter & the Veil of Shadows
By elaithin

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Fluff, General, Romance
Warnings: Death, Extreme Language, Sexual Situations, Violence
Rating: R
Reviews: 306
Summary: Moving on, strange dreams, mysterious newcomers, Death Eaters, the Veil of Shadows, and a little bit of life, laughter and love. Join Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione for their last year at Hogwarts - and the first year of the rest of their lives as they learn that just because Voldemort's gone doesn't mean life's going to be easy!
Hitcount: Story Total: 160529; Chapter Total: 6895





Author's Notes:
There aren't props enough for me to give my beta, Geluf. ESPECIALLY for the Sorting Hat's song, which we slaved over for longer than I'd like to admit. Big thanks to my other beta, my ever-patient wife, Teyri Jen. Enjoy!




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Chapter 17- "When Blackest Dusk..."

Harry and Hermione - accompanied by Ginny and Ron, of course, and followed shortly thereafter by the rest of the Prefects - led the assembled student body of Hogwarts from the carriages up to the castle. A bit of memory came to him suddenly, and Harry smiled as he recalled hearing Hagrid instruct Cordy and all the other new students to go along with the first-years on the boats. The dark-haired witch had looked ridiculously out of place, sharing a boat with the comparatively tiny eleven year olds.

The path from the gates up to the castle was silent, unlike previous years. For most, this was their first time being at Hogwarts since the night of Tom Riddle's defeat. The walk seemed a bit longer than normal, and many were preoccupied with their thoughts. The castle had been nearly ruined then, and the carnage that had been wrought was evident on students, castle, and landscaping alike. He and several others had been forced to assure many of the students that the Thestrals had, in fact, always drawn the carriages.

There was simply a far greater percentage of the Hogwarts student body that was able to see them now. It was a sad thought.

Harry was unconsciously fiddling with the Chocolate Frog card that had been in his pocket as they walked. It was a pair of them, actually - his and Ginny's. The aforementioned witch had her arm wrapped around his as they led the way along the path. She didn't seem to want to talk either, but he didn't find this awkward. He imagined she had her own preoccupations - doubtless nearly every returning student had some horrific memory from the year before that coming back to Hogwarts was forcing them to confront. Harry was resolutely attempting to put all such memories out of his own mind - but then, the days he'd spent here repairing the castle had blunted the edge of most of them. He hoped that was true for Ginny as well.

As they crossed the ward-boundaries that Harry had set, not ten meters from the castle (the major wards were closer to the castle itself, with the weaker ones covering the entire grounds), Harry drew in a sharp intake of breath as he crossed that invisible, magical line. It was a tingle, but more than that - it was a feeling of home, of familiarity.

Next to him, Ron and Hermione had paused as well, and were cocking their heads as though there were a song on the wind that they couldn't quite hear. Ginny had frozen in lockstep with Harry, and was looking at him oddly. Given that she had watched Harry cast them, Ginny was the first to make the connection with what they were feeling.

"Harry," she breathed, her face full of wonder. "The wards..."

"I know," Harry said, feeling his way through what his magical senses were telling him. "It's like they... It must be a side-effect."

Hermione found her words then. "From when you recast the wards," she concluded aloud, and Harry could practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes. "I've only caught just the edges of it. I can feel it...

"... Like something just out of the corner of your eyes," Ron finished for her.

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "Yes, that's it exactly. The castle, Harry - you feel something from it?"

"It feels like Harry," Ginny whispered, and Harry flushed slightly, as he suddenly became aware of the hundreds of students behind them, most of whom could not figure out why they had paused.

He looked to Hermione, who had closed her eyes for a moment, and then a faint smile crossed her lips. "Yes, it rather does."

Harry frowned. "Hermione, do you think - "

Ron cleared his throat, cutting Harry's question off."I'm sure this is all very fascinating, but maybe the three of you can debate what it means just a bit later, perhaps? As in, after we've gotten this load of very hungry students to the feast?"

Ginny snorted, and fixed a level stare on her brother. "You just want to get there yourself," she said, pointing out something that was a surprise to no one.

"No more than you, little sister," Ron shot back, and then rather childishly stuck his tongue out at her. Harry chuckled openly as Ginny blew her own raspberries in retaliation.

"Ron's right," he acknowledged, a moment later. "Let's get this lot up there." With that, he started the procession moving again, throwing his arm back around Ginny's shoulders. He noted Ron doing the same with Hermione, and for just a moment, was surprised when the bushy-haired witch didn't lecture them both for their lack of propriety. Being with Ron really was beginning to loosen her up, Harry decided.

Ginny had noticed, too. "Hermione?" she asked, her tone clearly meant to tease. "No lecture on keeping up appearances?"

"Sod off," Hermione muttered good-naturedly.

"About bloody time," Harry commented. "Y'know, Ron and I've spent too many years being bad influences on her with too little payoff."

Hermione just glared, and Harry laughed again.

The foursome's easy banter also had another side-effect. The spell of silence that seemed to overcome the assembled students had been broken. The crowd began to talk and laugh as they had been when they'd been on the train, and Harry was the gladder for it. It made everything feel right, to hear everyone acting so normal once again.

Harry returned to his thoughts as they passed the last patch of grass to the entrance courtyard. He was amazed at how green and alive everything was. There were very few signs of the battle that had taken place just months ago, both with the grounds themselves and the castle proper. Even the Astronomy Tower had been completely repaired - though, of course, Harry had made a specific point of that.

He also knew, of course, that things weren't nearly complete on the inside as they were out here - after all, he and Hermione had been asked to forgo their separate rooms as Head Boy and Head Girl this year, thanks to some problem with the enchantments that made the Head's rooms visible only in a particular house. Ginny had bet Harry ten Galleons that by the end of the first week, he'd be seeking permission from McGonagall to fix that particular problem himself. But from out here at least, Hogwarts seemed... rejuvenated somehow. It was almost as thought the climactic battle that had taken place within those halls, and the way that it had ended, had given the place new life. Harry's repairs, and all the ones done after by that American contractor, Parker, had a great deal do with all of that, but there was something more, something Harry couldn't quite put his finger on...

"Old place has never looked so good," Ron observed sagely as they passed through the gates of the front courtyard, and could get a better view of the masonry.

"Look at the stones," Neville said, and Harry abruptly realized that his other friend was just behind them.

"They're like new!" Susan observed, astonished. "The edges are all sharp, like it was just quarried - and the mortar's fresh, not crumbling like it used to be."

Ron and Hermione turned, and gave Harry openly admiring looks as Ginny looked up at him with pride. Abruptly, she leaned forward to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "You do good work, luv," she said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"I'll say," Ron and Neville said in unison.

Harry fought the urge to blush - at which he failed remarkably, and looked to the fountain at the center of the courtyard they were in. The statue of the phoenix - of Fawkes - glittered with reflected starlight and torchlight both, and seemed, at the moment, to be sleeping. As the students approached, the ring of torches at the base ignited. Everyone stopped at this new sight, and Harry abruptly realized that none among them but Ginny had seen the new memorial.

"Harry," Hermione breathed. "This... this is the Guardian you made?"

Several nearby heads whipped around to look at Harry, who adopted an unfeigned expression of even further sheepishness.

"Erm, yeah," he answered, and Ginny smiled fondly at him as he did so. She patted his arm in a way that Harry thought was supposed to be comforting, but actually came off as a bit patronizing. Then he saw her expression, and knew that the latter had been her intention, and not the former. He sighed for a moment, recognizing her message to not be embarrassed of his accomplishments.

The bushy-haired witch extended a hand towards the still Guardian statue. "It's... beautiful," she breathed, her voice carrying a reverence that Harry had always heard associated with church, or priceless works of art. It made him look at the statue in a new light, and he had to confess that even he could scarcely believe he'd created such a thing. As Hermione's hand got closer, however, the Guardian game to life, spreading its wings magnificently, and then leveling its glittering eyes at the crowd of students. There were several gasps - and more than a few curses.

The Phoenix Guardian shone, light glinting in the most interesting ways off its patterned blend of shining hematite, jasper and tiger's eye. Harry could still make out the words that he had inscribed in the bed of the fountain pool: 'En Memoriam: Dedicated to all those who fought in the Wars against Voldemort. Burn brightly, little phoenixes, and be reborn.'

The last phrase triggered a memory of a dream, where Dumbledore said those words to him. It seemed to spark something else, the nagging feeling that had been following Harry all day that he had forgotten something. But then someone spoke again, and Harry lost the train of thought.

"It's a memorial," Harry heard someone say, and he saw several others looking down to read the names of all of the victims of Voldemort's Wars - starting with Myrtle Henderson, the very first person he'd ever killed, all the way to his very last victim, Severus Snape.

"Harry," Hermione spoke again, and he could see that she was reading the legend at the base of the pool. "I thought you'd never read the Tales of Beedle the Bard."

"I haven't," he shrugged.

"Where'd you hear that phrase, then?" Ron asked, pointing. "˜Burn brightly, little phoenixes, and be reborn?"

"That's from "The Littlest Phoenix", isn't it?" Ginny asked. "Mum used to read that one to me when I was little."

"My gran read it to me, too," Neville added.

Hermione nodded, and Harry just shrugged again. He was going to answer that he'd heard it in a dream, but was compelled at the last moment to simple say. "Dunno, then. Must have just picked it up somewhere."

The bushy-haired witch seemed to wonder about that for a moment, but seemed to accept it, and Harry turned his attentions away. He no longer wished to hurry anyone into the castle, though he knew that if they tarried too long, Professor McGonagall would come for them. He let the others have their moment, however, paying tribute or remembrance to whomever they needed to. Hopefully this was a thing that could allow closure for those who had not had it.

Harry felt Ginny's hand tighten in his suddenly, and he favored her with a look of curiosity. He didn't have to wonder why she suddenly seemed tense, however, as he realized where they were standing. Harry could very easily understand why her mouth had drawn itself into a tight line, and she had gone almost as rigid as if she'd been petrified.

After all, they were standing on the spot where she'd seen his dead body (Or rather, thought she had). Harry had thought he'd put the fountain on top of that spot exactly, but it was clear now that he'd been a few feet off. That was where Hagrid had lain him down. Over there was where he'd heard the anguished cries of Hermione and Ron, Minerva McGonagall, and most especially, the cry that still woke him sometimes in his nightmares - Ginny's voice, believing him dead - coming from. A few feet that way was where Neville had slain Nagini. Harry didn't even have to close his eyes to see all of it again, exactly as it was.

Apparently he and Ginny weren't the only ones, either.

"The burns on the grass are gone," he heard from Neville's voice, not-so-unexpectedly hollow.

He was right, Harry saw. The grass was as immaculate as the rest of the castle's exterior, including the spot where Riddle had set fire to the Sorting Hat (while it still lay atop Neville's head). Briefly, Harry wondered if Professor Flitwick had been able to repair the ancient hat. The Opening Feast - Hogwarts itself - wouldn't be the same without the floppy old hat's odd songs. Not to mention that Harry had no idea how Sortings would be managed otherwise.

Everyone seemed to be drifting into an increasingly somber mood, which was subsequently broken as Ron pointed out one of the names of those who had died at the Battle of Hogwarts, the small black plate bearing the name of Professor Sybill Trelawney. "I wonder if she saw it coming..." he muttered absently.

Despite himself, Harry laughed, as did Ginny. Hermione looked thoroughly scandalized.

"Ronald!" she called and Ron's head darted up.

"Oh, Merlin," he muttered, the tips of his ears going red in embarrassment. "Was that out loud?"

Harry smiled, and clapped Ron on the shoulder. "'Fraid so, mate," he said, and then rose his voice and turned to address everyone else. "All right, you lot! It's been long enough. Let's get on in before Filch comes looking. No sense giving him excuses this early in the year!"

Several snickered at the notion, but Harry's point was made, and the students began to move inside. Loosening his grip on Ginny's hand, he lifted it up so that he could rest his arm across her shoulders, and pull her tight as they walked. The procession began again, and Harry saw Ron grab Neville's upper arm with one hand.

"Come on, mate," he heard his friend quietly urge. Neville took a deep breath, and nodded. He needed no further prompting.

Before too very long, they had entered the Great Hall. It had been completely repaired as well, and if Harry hadn't consciously thought about it being the place Tom Riddle had died, he doubted the realization would even have occurred to him. There was no sign of any damage, no clue really, that anything so momentous had occurred in this very room. Save, of course, for the small plaque that was now fastened in front of the Headmaster's Seat at the staff table.

As Harry and his friends slipped into spots near the head of the Gryffindor table, he cast his eyes over the words. Many others were no doubt doing the same.

"Here fell the Dark Lord, Tom Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort, defeated with a disarming charm by Harry J. Potter. Let us remember, and may the Houses never be so divided again," Ginny read aloud. Harry expected to feel a moment of embarrassment at the mention - and the realization that every future generation of Hogwarts would read that plaque - but instead, he only found contentment, and a tinge of regret. Regret that he had not accomplished his task sooner, though he now had the perspective to understand why that had not been possible.

"Amen," Ron breathed, and Harry nodded as his best mate's words drug him out of his thoughts. Harry looked around the large room expectantly for a moment, wondering idly how long they would have to wait. Students were still filtering into the Hall, so the Feast could not quite yet begin. Harry thus occupied himself by looking over to the staff table, to see what he could discern about all of the new professors.

Professor McGonagall was seated serenely in Dumbledore's old chair, looking every inch the Headmistress. She wore her familiar dark green robes, and not for the first time Harry found it amusing that the former head of Gryffindor House so often dressed in Slytherin colors. She even looked younger than when last he'd seen her, at his birthday. Far less frazzled - she must have solved her staffing problems, then, Harry concluded, remembering the frustrations she'd voiced back at his party. Her pointed black hat looked brand new, however, rather than the battered old one the stern-appearing witch had worn in all of Harry's previous years. A memory - a real one - flashed through his mind for a moment, and he recalled seeing her old hat hexed right off her head during the Battle of Hogwarts.

Well, that explained the new one.

Still, the Board of Governors couldn't have chosen a better successor for Dumbledore and Snape, Harry knew, and he felt that if anyone said otherwise this year, then he'd deal with them. Soundly. His stomach knotted for a moment when he thought of using the Cruciatus on Carrow just for spitting in McGonagall's face. At first, he'd felt guilt over that act, recognizing it as just a bit of an overreaction. That opinion had changed after he'd finally gotten Ginny's version of what had happened last year. After learning all that – Harry didn't feel the slightest built guilty about using an Unforgivable on the rotund little Death Eater.

At least there were no Death Eaters on staff, now. Not even on the Board anymore, come to think of it. Hogwarts truly would be a haven. Harry also expected that the Board would be much easier to deal with now that Lucius Malfoy had all the money and political influence of a house-elf.

Harry couldn't fight a smile at that thought. Irony - or perhaps, justice - was a sweet, sweet thing.

The chair to her right was empty, but that belonged to Professor Flitwick, the new Assistant Headmaster. He was, no doubt, quite occupied with shepherding in the first years and all the other new students. Harry was glad the diminutive professor hadn't retired - he really was a genius, even if he'd often been overshadowed by the accomplishments of Dumbledore. (And Snape, Harry reluctantly admitted to himself.)

Harry grinned at the thought of the two wizards the new students would meet first. Hagrid, surely the largest they would ever lay eyes on, and then Flitwick, who was undoubtedly the smallest. That it would throw some of them - especially the Muggleborns - was a foregone conclusion.

He could also see that Professor Slughorn had returned - as expansive as the man was, he was hard to miss - and the elderly Slytherin gave Harry a broad grin that he politely returned (in a much more muted fashion, of course.) Between finding the Half-Blood Prince's Potions text again, and the fact that Slughorn at least didn't berate him in class, Harry was confident of his ability to score the NEWT he needed. That, however, did not mean he was looking forward to the self-centered old Slytherin and his "Slug Club", however. Or the incessant name-dropping. Or the...

Harry shook his head for a moment, and then started at least pretending to follow the conversation Ginny, Ron, Hermione and the others were having, so Ginny wouldn't get concerned. His attention still lay on the Staff Table, however.

He knew that with Professor Trelawney dead and Firenze having rejoined his herd, there'd have to be someone new for Divination. He could see Professors Sprout, Sinestra & Vector, who had all returned to teach Herbology, Astronomy, and Arithmancy, respectively. The rest of the table's occupants were all new.

Harry did recognize Professor Caitlin O'Donnell, a brightly red-haired and smiling Irish witch who he had worked with, along with Bill and Professors McGonagall and Flitwick to recreate Hogwarts' complicated system of wards. She was the new Ancient Runes teacher, he knew. Harry thought her particularly brilliant, and he imagined that if he weren't with Ginny, he might have developed a bit of a crush on the red-haired Irish witch. He vaguely remembered her as a sixth or seventh year when he'd first started Hogwarts, so it wasn't even like she was that much older.

However, as Harry did have Ginny, he could merely draw amusement from the way some of the other older male students (like Seamus, up until Lavender saw him,) reacted.

The next three members of the staff table were folks that Harry easily identified - after all, they were parts of Harry's extended family (Or would be, some day). He was more than a little shocked that he hadn't noticed them sitting there before, actually, but he put that down to the fact that all three were dressed very differently than he'd ever seen them.

Sitting up there, in fact, were none other than Bill Weasley, his wife Fleur, and Andromeda Tonks. All were wearing formal robes of the styles preferred among the Hogwarts staff, though Fleur's were all white. The threesome was chatting animatedly between themselves. Harry attempted to get their attention, but the general ruckus in the hall prevented it.

"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed, and Harry knew he'd just seen them, too. Ginny, Hermione and the others all looked to where the redhead was pointing. "That's Bill!"

"Explains why he wasn't too upset about getting sacked from Gringott's," Harry noted aloud.

"That git!" Ginny muttered. "No wonder he wouldn't tell us his new job, either!"

Harry laughed. "I think I'd have kept it a surprise, too."

"Well, you're a git too, then," Ginny stated.

"Wonder what Fleur's doing here, though," Ron asked thoughtfully. "She's been working towards becoming a Healer."

"Oh, been paying attention to her plans, have you?" Hermione asked, a bit too acidly, and Harry winced.

"S'not like that," Ron muttered, the tips of his ears reddening.

Hermione's expression softened. "Relax, Ronald. I'm just having you on."

"Oh, thank Merlin," Ron muttered. "I hate fighting on an empty stomach."

"You'd rather we fight after you eat?" Hermione asked with raised eyebrows.

"Well, yeah."

Harry and Ginny met eyes as they both bit their lips to keep from laughing. "I'm wondering more about Andy," he said, his brow furrowing. "She never said anything about this. If she's here, where's Teddy, then?"

"I'm sure he's in good hands," Ginny said, placing a reassuring hand on Harry's. "She wouldn't abandon him. He means the world to her."

"To us, too," Harry added. Still, it was a curiosity - if Andromeda was here, where was his Godson? He hoped he got the chance to speak to her tonight - if not, he made a mental note to seek her out first thing in the morning.

"What're they teaching, do you think?" Ron asked, and (perhaps subconsciously) all heads turned to Hermione.

"Just once, I wish you lot wouldn't automatically turn to me for an answer..." the bushy-haired witch muttered under her breath. When her friends simply answered the comment with carefully blank stares, she instead adopted a thoughtful expression. "Well, Harry's already met Professor O'Donnell, so Bill - er, Professor Weasley - (Ron and Ginny both snorted at that) can't be teaching that. I expect he's taken over Transfiguration. It's very useful to a curse-breaker. He's likely to be quite good at it."

"He is," Ginny confirmed. "Fred reckoned Bill's actually an Animagus, but I've never been able to get him to confirm it. And Fleur showed me some of the things he's transfigured for her since they got together. He always used to make things for me when I was little, too."

"I remember that," Ron nodded. "He even repaired my chess set once - when I first got it, it was so old, the pieces were practically still. He was able to get them going again."

"Settles that, then," Harry nodded, and then racked his brain. "I can't imagine what Andy's - "

"Professor Tonks," Hermione corrected, and Harry ignored her.

"-teaching," he finished, pretending Hermione hadn't said anything at all. "I can't think of any of her particular skills that stand out. I know she doesn't think she's all that good at Defense though, so that's not the job she's gotten."

"No," Ron noted, pointing towards a particular member of the staff table. "Unless I miss my guess, that'll be that bloke."

"He looks the type," Harry confirmed, for the man they were looking at now certainly did. He reminded Harry very much of Mad-Eye Moody, minus the excessive number of scars and the spinning magical eye, of course. His eyes had a shaded, haunted look that Harry had seen all too many times - staring back at him in the mirror. It was the look of a man who had seen, and perhaps done, horrible things. And then had survived them.

He was an older man - perhaps on the north side of his fifties or sixties. It was difficult to tell with wizards of that age, given how long they lived. For all Harry knew, the man was ninety. There was grey in his hair and beard, but the rest was a mixture of red and brown. He had piercing eyes though, and as the new Professor's eyes met Harry's, he gave him an appraising look. Harry didn't back down from the man's gaze, and he thought he saw something flicker in the man's eyes for a moment - approval? - before the other gave a brief nod. Harry returned it, and then the man looked elsewhere.

"Yeah," Ginny chuckled. "That's definitely the new Defense Professor."

He'd already seen Filch when the Caretaker had opened the Main Doors for them, so the old man and his cat were still around. Harry didn't think there was anything that would kill that old Squib, though he rather imagined that Filch was disappointed with the return of the old management. Some part of his mind flagged that as a potential problem - he'd have to learn just how what Filch had gotten up to last year, to determine whether or not some students might be looking to retaliate against the Caretaker now. Still, Filch couldn't have been too bad, or the Carrows would never have tolerated the presence of a squib, which was almost worse than Muggle-borns to them.

He also knew that Poppy Pomfrey was here - he'd actually heard George and Charlie talking about her not long ago, with George being of the opinion that there wasn't any way she'd leave Hogwarts until her best patient (Harry) did. Harry had still never figured out how they'd ever even gotten on the topic of the Hogwarts medi-witch.

Strangely, Harry found the thought to be a comforting one.

From Hermione's summer correspondence, he also knew that Madame Pince was still here. That only left one other woman and one other man at the table unidentified. The former was a rather severe looking woman, who, judging by the cut of her robes, was probably Welsh. Given that Andromeda had no talents towards Divination that Harry knew of, Harry surmised that this was the new Divination Professor. That left her teaching... Harry frowned. He still couldn't place what she was here for.

The last man, however, was oddly dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and short pants. And a wizard hat. He was a comical-looking round-bodied man, though not as big as Slughorn. With attire like that, Harry sincerely hoped the man was the new Muggle Studies Professor. The thought of this man teaching anything else was almost too much to take.

Harry grinned again as he saw Hagrid "sneaking" in from the side door out of the corner of his eye. Hagrid's attempts to be sneaky were rather comical, but Harry held back his laughter. They were just about ready for the sorting, then, if the big wizard was joining them now. His stomach rumbled its agreement that it was about time, and Ginny laughed.

The tinkling of a fork against a wine glass coming from Professor McGonagall forestalled any other guessing about the unnamed new Professors. "Mr. Filch," the elder witch said imperiously. "Please inform Professor Flitwick that we are ready to begin."

"Yes, Headmistress," the little man answered, and then scurried away. Harry didn't hold back his snickers then - and nor did anyone else.

A moment later Professor Flitwick entered the Great Hall, leading the entire group of nervous-looking first years and the older, unsorted new students behind them. Cordy led that group, Harry noted, and he decided that he wouldn't be surprised at all if she was sorted into Gryffindor. She certainly had the personality for it, and though he'd only just met her, Harry couldn't imagine the girl being sorted anywhere else.

Another few moments later, and there was a gasp as a very familiar stool, and more importantly, a very familiar hat, were brought out by Filch. Mrs. Norris was hurriedly following the aged caretaker, but no one was looking at him now. Everyone who'd been at the battle remembered what had happened to the sorting hat.

Harry spared a glance at Neville, and was pleased to see his dark-haired friend smiling broadly. Whatever demons Neville had to wrestle with from last year, this wasn't one of them.

"Merlin's balls," Hermione exclaimed breathlessly, and this time no one commented on her language. "Professor Flitwick actually repaired it!"

"You took the words out of my mouth," Neville said from his seat on the other side of her.

Harry felt a warm feeling pass over him as he saw Professor Sinestra step forward and hand a rolled-up parchment to Professor Flitwick. All this really wouldn't have been the same without that ratty old hat - which looked to be in remarkably good shape, he now saw. Just like the castle, it was almost as good as new. Harry resolved to find out more about that particular curiosity - it was the latest on a list of questions that was getting much longer as the day wore on.

As Sinestra moved to stand behind the hat - to place it on the head of new students, Harry surmised - the old hat opened its brim wide, and began to sing.

"Another year has dawned for me,
And so I speak once more,
Of the legacy that history,
Did leave the Hogwarts Four,

This tale I've told for many years,
And recent times have shown,
That history is a potent voice,
That's best not left unknown.

Gryffindor the valiant mage,
And Ravenclaw the knowing,
Just Hufflepuff the kindly sage,
And Slytherin the cunning.

The future they set out to make,
They did not craft alone,
Built on a strong foundation,
Of magic and of Stone

Together did they build this Keep,
United they were strong,
Though together they were not to stay,
This pact would not last long.

And as the golden days did crest,
The Four were torn away.
Divided now, their hopes were dashed,
And one went his own way.

And so a thousand years did pass,
And Two now Fate did find,
I sorted them as I saw fit,
I knew their hearts and minds.

To these hallowed halls there came,
A war of Dark and Light,
And though the Light did win the day,
There must always be the Night.

But you may learn from this hard look,
At the divided House's doom,
Its wisdom written in no book,
No lecture hall or hidden room.

It does not do to dwell on dreams,
Forsaking life's great call,
But foolish is the man who sees,
No truth in them at all.

United you can lead the way,
And now be not afraid,
But though evil can be led astray,
It cannot truly fade.

But when the blackest dusk has drawn,
You towards the darkest night,
Remember that the coming dawn,
Will always bring you light."

Harry felt a cold sense of foreboding fall over him as the Hat sang its song. He'd paid attention, this time, and had very little need of Hermione to interpret for him. Unlike previous years, he had expected something more fanciful - something like the one he'd heard his first year. That had not been the case. While the overall message was positive, the song had the unmistakable sound of warning that the hat had held in his fifth year.

That had not been a good year, and Harry felt that sense of foreboding turning into begin knotting in his gut.

A quick look at the shadow that had fallen over Hermione's face told him she had caught the meaning behind the hat's words as well. Ginny, Ron and Neville all had similar expressions, and the muttering Harry heard told him that several others had been paying attention as well. Harry resolved then and there to find out if there was a Penseive among his various inheritances, and if not, to purchase one, no matter the cost, so he could review the memory. He did not to believe that the battle was not yet finished, but the Hat's warning seemed to suggest it never would be.

But then, hadn't he come to that conclusion more than a month ago? Wasn't it why he was back here now? Why he'd joined the Aurors to begin with? Hadn't he learned that, facing down the Lestranges in Diagon Alley? So it wasn't really a surprise, then?

So why did the Sorting Hat's song fill him with such complete and utter dread?

A fragment of a dream filtered through his memory, of a fight with Lestrange in front of the Veil, and the both of them falling through. The fragment was so very vivid that Harry was almost convinced that it was a memory, instead.

"It does not do to dwell on dreams, Forsaking life's great call, But foolish is the man who sees, No truth in them at all," Harry's mind quoted, unbidden, and the knot in his gut hardened.

He felt Ginny's hand tense around his, and she gave him a worried look. Harry imagined that he could practically feel her concern at his sudden tension. "Harry?" she asked, her voice full of careful concern as Addlewaite, Alfred was sorted into Ravenclaw.

Harry felt Ron looking at him as well, and he expected Ron to be looking confused. Instead, his friend had an expression of careful calculation. He looked to Ron as he gave his answer to Ginny. "Later," he said.

"Later," Ron nodded, and Hermione did as well. Neville had caught everything as well. Harry's eyes flicked over to the Slytherin table, where Draco sat, shabby and alone. He remembered how long it had taken to convince others that something was going on with him back in sixth year. This time, it would not take as long. They would get to the bottom of things - and fast.

So much for a quiet start to the year, Harry thought, as Gryffindor got its first new member - Andrews, Jeffrey. Forcing his more negative thoughts down to a quieter corner of his mind, Harry instead put on a smile, and led the applause for the trembling first year.

All told, the Sorting seemed to take an interminable amount of time, though it wasn't surprising given just how bloody many of them there were. Still, by the time they'd gotten to Weasley, Patterson - a cousin of Ron and Ginny's, apparently, who was also sorted into Gryffindor, no surprise there - Harry's stomach was growling almost loudly enough to match Ron's.

And they still had to sort the new, older students. This, at least, proceeded at a satisfactorily quicker pace. Harry supposed that with the students being older and their personalities much more defined, the Hat was able to sort almost all of them instantaneously.

He had to say almost, because when the last person was sorted, it was anything but quick. That, however, was not what got people's attention. When Professor Flitwick's squeaky voice called out the name of the last person to be Sorted- the only seventh year -, the small murmurs of conversation and welcome to the new members of various Houses stopped entirely.

"Riddle, Cordelia," Flitwick called, and Harry's blood froze.

Rather abruptly, Harry forgot all about the content of the Hat's song, and Harry knew that everyone else's eyes in the hall were as wide as his own. Time seemed to slow as Cordy walked to the Hat, all earlier swagger vanished from her steps. There was no doubt that she was very aware of the attention she was suddenly getting.

Harry's mind was racing, and he was only barely able to keep his astonishment off of his face. He realized he probably wasn't succeeding at that entirely. Riddle was a very uncommon name, after all - in Britain, or anywhere else in the world, so far as he knew. On top of that, it was now common knowledge that Voldemort's real name had been Tom Riddle. It was slightly less common knowledge that he'd killed or betrayed all of his own family. As far as Harry knew, Morfin Gaunt had been Riddle's last surviving relative, and he'd died in Azkaban. Tom had killed the rest, making his second Horcrux - the ring. The Resurrection Stone.

Hadn't he? Harry wondered.

But Cordy wasn't anything like Tom! She was funny, she was personable...

Then memories, from the Diary, and other's viewed in Dumbledore's Penseive flashed through Harry's mind.

So was Tom, when he wanted to be, a part of Harry's mind pointed out.

Harry watched as the Hat slipped down over Cordy's head. The hat stayed for awhile, the longest of the night.

"I haven't seen the hat take that long since... " Neville started, his voice thoughtful.

"...since Harry," Hermione finished for him. Remembering how the Hat had wanted to place him in Slytherin, Harry was not comforted by that in the least.

Then Harry got his second shock within a minute as the Hat opened its brim wide, and proudly declared the House that Cordelia Riddle now belonged to.

"Gryffindor!"

She's not like him! She's a Gryffindor! A part of Harry's mind exclaimed, and he started to relax before that traitorous little voice in his mind spoke up one more.

So was Pettigrew! The voice pointed out. Just because one was a Gryffindor didn't mean one was on the side of the Light.

Cordy approached the open spot Ginny had left open for her, watching Harry the whole way. Once she left the stool, her eyes never left his. The whole of the Great Hall - even the staff table - waited expectantly to see how Harry would react.

Harry looked in her eyes, and wished, just for a moment, that he knew Legilimency. Instead, he had to settle for what he could tell himself. She was nervous, it was plain to see. She was worried. She seemed... very concerned about how he would take the revelation of her name, and was making no effort at all to hide the acceptance she so desperately wanted from him.

Abruptly, Harry realized he had a choice to make. He remembered making a similar choice, years ago, when he met a small, blond-haired boy in Madame Malkin's and a dirty-faced red-haired boy on the Hogwarts Express. He remembered the stares he'd gotten all his life, just because of a bloody name. With that in mind, Harry's choice, in the end, was very easy indeed.

"Harry, mate..." Cordy started quietly, and then her jaw dropped as Harry responded.

He grinned.

"What's in a name?" Harry asked, and stood so that he could properly lead the applause for the newest member of Gryffindor House. The dark eyes of Cordelia Riddle didn't leave Harry's own as he did so, and he could plainly see the softening in them as she relaxed. Whatever else happened, she now had a friend, and what little she knew about Harry and his associated meant that she knew she now had several.

Whatever her associations, whatever her circumstances, Harry would not judge her on the basis of her name alone. Her actions - her choices - would decide who she was. He tried to put this forth with just a look, and Cordy seemed to understand. She gave him a small nod back. Harry didn't know how, but he felt he'd certainly made the right choice.

"Thanks," she said softly, and then sat next to Ginny. Ginny had been grinning unabashedly at Harry with an unmistakable pride, and then turned to extend her congratulations to Cordelia as well. Ron was a little more guarded, but offered his as well. Hermione had a calculating expression, but she favored the new girl with a broad smile as well that left no doubt as to her welcome.

"Nothing to it," Harry said with an easiness he did not feel. No matter his decision, no matter how right it felt, a corner of his mind was still wondering.

Ron, it turned out, was much less willing to pretend. "So, er, Cordy," he said, starting the question that was on everyone's mind. "Are you - "

"Ron, don't." Harry all but whispered. The words were quietly given, but they had the unmistakable tone of an order coming from the dark-haired wizard. Ron's attention practically snapped over to his best mate at the sound of them.

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Don't?" he asked, plainly incredulous.

"Don't," Harry repeated, and then raised his voice so everyone in the immediate area could hear. "That goes for everyone. It's none of our bloody business. That's the end of it," Harry said. He knew it wouldn't be, of course, but he could try.

Ron cocked his head for a moment, but then just shrugged. "Your call, mate."

"Thanks," Harry said, and looked up to see Professor McGonagall staring at him with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, well," the Headmistress said loudly, and Harry could swear her eyes were twinkling as she looked at him. "Now that our Head Boy has made his... statement, I've only two words."

With that, McGonagall waved her hand, and the empty plates and pitchers filled with a food that, if possible, smelled even better than it looked. "Tuck in."

- - - - - -

As usual, the meal passed quickly. An active conversation between Harry and his friends picked up - including Cordy. Before Harry knew it, Hermione was nudging him from his whispered conversation with Ginny. Harry didn't think much of her methods of getting his attention - he didn't really like bruises on his shins, after all. But to be fair, he and Ginny had been rather... er, engrossed in their conversation. Well, teasing was a more accurate word for it, he reflected. Harry frowned (as he rubbed his shin), and then looked quizzically at Hermione until the bushy-haired witch jerked her head towards the staff table. Professor McGonagall was standing up - it was time for the start-of-term notices.

"Ah, right," Harry said reluctantly, and diverted his attention to the Headmistress. As he did so, he felt Ginny's hand tracing a pattern up his thigh, and he caught the impish gleam in her eyes.

"Witch," Harry muttered under his breath before biting his cheek to keep his expression still.

"Absolutely," she answered, quietly enough so that only he could hear.

Then Harry saw the smirking look Cordy was giving him, and abandoned the notion that no one else had heard - or figured out what Ginny was doing.

"Having a good time there, Harry?" Cordy whispered at him, grinning widely.

"The best," Harry replied, forcing neutrality into his tone.

Ginny and Cordy both honest-to-Merlin giggled at that.

"-the Forbidden Forest," Professor McGonagall was saying, with a very pointed look cast in Harry's direction, "Remains forbidden, though I daresay warning some of you of that fact will be to no avail. Therefore, enter it at your peril. Mister Filch has updated his list of banned items once more, and those seeking that knowledge may find the list posted outside of his office door on the first floor."

Harry fought to keep his lips from twitching at the Headmistress' phrasing. She didn't give a flying flobberworm about Filch's banned list any more than the students did.

"We also have several new staff members to welcome this term," McGonagall continued, ignoring some of the students snickering. "Taking my former posts of both Head of Gryffindor House, and Transfiguration Master, is Professor William Weasley. He comes to us from Gringott's, where he worked for several years as a Curse-Breaker. Some of you may also be familiar with him -"

"Hey, I've got his Frog card!" a very young witch screamed, and then covered her mouth in embarrassment at the ensuing laughter.

"- As I was saying," McGonagall continued, nonplussed, "Some of you may recognize him from his card, as Professor Weasley, as well as his wife, were members of the Order of the Phoenix."

Bill stood, and gave his younger siblings - actual and "might-as-well-be" a big grin. Harry did not miss the appreciative noises given by several members of the female Hogwarts student body at that sight. Bill may have changed in his dragon-hide jacket for a pair of Professor's robes, but he was still... Bill. Scars and all, even Harry and Ron weren't so dense as to see why the female students appreciated this addition to the staff.

"We also welcome Professor Weasley's wife, Healer-Trainee Fleur Weasley, to her internship. She will be assisting Madame Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing this year. Our older students may recall the former Miss Delacour participating in the Tri-Wizard Tournament here at Hogwarts a few years ago. I am also warning you all - and I am speaking to you boys here, Mr. Finnegan - that faking injuries just so that you can be treated by Healer Weasley will be severely frowned upon."

That got another round of laughter - including from Harry as Seamus grinned broadly. As Fleur stood - holding Bill's hand - there were appreciative mutterings and applause (even if she was pregnant) from the male student body - and no small amount of disparaging ones from the females.

With a glare that silenced such comments rather easily, the Headmistress continued her introductions. "For the Defense Against Dark Arts post - you will note, if you please, that the title and course material have been corrected from last year's unfortunate circumstances - it is my great pleasure to introduce to you Professor Gregor MacDougal, a former member of the Auror department, who has agreed to come out of retirement to fill this post."

There was applause again as the grizzled old Scotsman stood, and grunted an acknowledgement of some sort. Harry found he was the most critical of this new addition - after all, he'd hardly had the best of luck with Defense Professors in the past. Still, the name Gregor MacDougal sounded familiar, though Harry couldn't immediately place it. Hermione, he expected, would be researching the man soon enough.

"For the post of Muggle Studies," McGonagall continued when the cautious applause for MacDougal had died down, "I present Professor Edward Clinkscales. Professor Clinkscales has had a long career as a Magisociologist, and has spent the last ten years living on the American Hawaiian Islands, as you can no doubt tell from his, erm, rather unusual manner of dress."

Clinkscales waved merrily at the Professor, and then the students. McGonagall's mouth drew in a tight line for a moment, and Harry bit back his laughter - but only because the Headmistress was now looking his direction.

"Yes, well," McGonagall then continued after taking a deep breath. "I am also quite pleased to present our new History of Magic Professor Andromeda Tonks-"

"Wait," Ron called out, interrupting the Headmistress - something she did not look pleased about. "You binned Binns?"

There were several groans and laughs at the questions, and Harry saw even McGonagall's mouth quirk momentarily into a smile.

Andy's was even wider. "Not to worry, Mr. Weasley," she said with a teasing glint. "Professor Binns has consented to guest lecture on occasion, whenever we cover Goblin rebellions."

"Thank Merlin I'm not in that class anymore then," Ron answered frankly, and was met with laughter again.

"Indeed," McGonagall acknowledged, and then answered the question Harry had been wondering about ever since he'd seen Andy up at the staff table. "Now, as Professor Tonks is the guardian of her grandson, many of you may see him on the grounds this coming year. I fully expect that you will all behave yourselves around an impressionable child."

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise, and flashed Andy a large grin - which the woman readily returned - as he realized that he would still be able to see Teddy frequently throughout the school year. It had been one of the major reasons he'd had to think hard before deciding to come back, but now, it wasn't even a concern. Ginny squeezed an arm around his waist and flashed him a beaming smile, and Harry was happy to realize that she was just as excited about the notion as he was.

Professor McGonagall continued with her introductions, introducing Professor Clea Wellington as the new Divination Mistress, and Professor Caitlin O'Donnell as Professor of Ancient Runes, which Harry already knew. He paid scarce attention to those introductions, however, with his mind already awhirl with the day's events.

Problems with students who'd been here last year, like Smith, this thing - whatever it was, whatever it could be - with Draco, Cordy's imposing last name, the situation with Dean, a new DADA Professor, who Harry felt strangely wary of for no reason he could determine other than experience. Then there was Bill, Fleur, Andromeda and Teddy all being here at the castle, Quidditch, being Head Boy, the way his relationship with Ginny was progressing... and, maybe even most importantly, the Sorting Hat's song.

"But though evil can be led astray, It cannot truly fade..." he heard in his mind again.

It did not seem that this was going to be a slow year, after all.

What the hell, Harry thought. As long as no one's trying to kill me, I'll take it.

But the Sorting Hat's words made that hope a hollow one, indeed.

- - - - - -

That night, as Harry tiredly unpacked his trunk, he paid no attention as he removed a small orb from it. He had no awareness of what he was doing as he moved the orb to the head of his bed, to stuff it between the headboard and his mattress. After, he continued his unpacking, and bid Ron and all his other roommates - new and old alike - and fell fast asleep in his familiar four-poster bed.

If an observer had been so inclined, they would have noticed a soft blue glow coming from the orb later, as Harry slept.

For his part, Harry simply delved into worlds never imagined, things he had never seen, for such was the stuff that his dreams were made of.

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