Please join me in thanking all the hard work parakletos has put into this story over the last few months. He is unable to contribute right now, but his advice and encouragement has been invaluable. I may have thrown some mighty tantrums but I appreciate every minute you've put in. So, as inadequate as it sounds, thanks.
goingbacktosquareone has volunteered (no, let's face it, she jumped at the chance) to beta Rebuilding Life. So three cheers for gbtso! Without her - you would get random and adequate RL. With her you get polish, refinement and depth. :D I prostrate myself at her feet and give her glowing praise as per her beta-ing requirements. :D
Seriously, thanks for jumping aboard at the final hurdle!
Credit also goes to Dethryl this chapter, who took the utter RUBBISH I invented and called a Sorting Hat Song and turned it into something quite spectacular.
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Rebuilding Life | ||||||
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Category: Post-DH/AB Characters:All Genres: General, Humor, Romance Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 1776 Summary: Harry has defeated Voldemort but is going back to his life going to be easy? What will he go back to, the life he once had is meaningless now. It's time to build a new one and to create a new post-Voldemort world. Ginny is there waiting for him, what do they need to do to rebuild their lives? Hitcount: Story Total: 580208; Chapter Total: 16792 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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The Prefect compartment was full of squashy chintz covered chairs and ancient wing-backs covered in velvet. Harry was lounging in an overstuffed armchair and staring idly out the window at the passing scenery as Hermione droned on, her wand waving wildly and her parchment rustling constantly. He had tried staring at things inside the compartment but he kept catching either the eye of the awed fifth year Hufflepuffs or Ginny. The fifth years would giggle and look away quickly while Ginny would pull a face at him. Harry found himself either turning an embarrassing red or suppressing the urge to burst out laughing. He dreaded looking at any of the other students. He’d attempted to look friendly and welcoming at first but his resolve crumbled as he watched Romilda Vane boring holes in the back of Ginny’s head. A fifth year Gryffindor girl he didn’t know was gazing at him adoringly and the disgusting display by one of Slytherin’s sixth year Prefects and Draco Malfoy was enough to make his stomach turn. And so Harry gazed out the window while Hermione delivered her lecture on the importance they would be to the reestablishment of learning in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. “Isn’t that right, Harry?” Harry jumped, startled. Hermione was looking at him with an air of superiority as if she knew he had not been listening. “Of course you’re right Hermione,” Harry smiled. “Isn’t she Romilda? Tell the rest of us what you liked about Hermione’s little presentation.” Romilda blanched and stammered. “Er, well I liked the… um, part where she said how it was like … our job to guide all the… um, new people and sort of help them out.” By the time she finished Romilda was bright red. “Yeah, that part was really great Hermione,” added Neville. “Granger, I know you’re eager but really, a number of us have been Prefects already,” drawled Malfoy, not bothering to sit up from the position he was in, half sprawled in the lap of the sixth year Prefect. “I think we know what we are doing. In fact I, as you know, have already been Head Boy so I am sure I don’t need your help with anything.” There was a momentary silence as every single pair of eyes in the carriage flicked from Malfoy to Harry and back again. Harry leant back in his armchair and propped his feet up on a nearby pouf. “Excellent Malfoy,” he said. “You can take all the new Prefects and go and do that patrol thing I’ve heard so much about. After all, they will want the expert to show them how it’s done.” He stared at Malfoy, arms crossed over his chest, while the other man opened and closed his mouth like a fish. “I’ll help you Draco,” simpered the girl he’d recently been draped over. “Fabulous,” said Harry brightly. “Off you trot then. Take Orla and Stewart here with you.” The two Ravenclaw fifth years stared at Harry in horror but he smiled at them reassuringly. “I-er …” started Orla Quirke. “Draco, here, is going to be helpful,” insisted Harry. “Because being helpful is what Hermione’s been telling us, hasn’t she?” The two Ravenclaws glanced at Luna as they stood up, following a disgruntled Malfoy out of the compartment, the unknown Slytherin Prefect hanging onto his arm and his every word. “I didn’t think you were listening, Harry,” Hermione hissed at Harry as the door slid shut on them. “I wasn’t,” Harry smiled back as he unfolded himself and stood up. “Ron got me your notes so I could know what you were on about without worrying if I fell asleep or got distracted. I’ve been reading them every night for a week.” Hermione looked at him, her eyes glittering suspiciously before she suddenly launched herself at him. Harry staggered back a step and nearly fell into his armchair. “Oh! You studied!” she cried. Then she burst into tears. “And Ron helped you cheat! I miss him so much!” Harry looked helplessly over the top of her head at Ginny and Neville as Hermione sobbed into his shoulder. Ginny was frantically miming that he should put his arms around her and Neville was shaking his head sorrowfully. “She awfully emotional,” said Luna. “I do hope the Flurgumbles haven’t gotten to her. It would be such a shame.” Harry rolled his eyes and put his arms around Hermione, patting her on the back a little more skilfully than he had a few months ago. “Well, um, here … you can all go now and, um… just patrol the train every once in a while,” said Ginny gesturing at the rest of the Prefects still scattered around the compartment. “We got a schedule before …” began a skinny Hufflepuff with a shock of blond hair and piercing blue eyes whom Harry did not recognise. “Yeah well this year is … different,” supplied Neville hastily. “Just make sure you do a little patrol every now and then.” “Who is he anyway?” whispered a small, dark-haired Slytherin as the younger students filed out of the compartment and into the corridor. Dennis Creevey looked sideways at the other boy. “That’s Neville Longbottom,” he said in a long suffering tone as if the boy should have known. The dark little Slytherin gaped as Romilda pushed him through the door. ‘Really?” Harry heard him ask excitedly as he left. “Neville Longbottom? My mum says he’s a hero, that’s what she says …” “Hear that Neville?” teased Ginny as she closed the door after the other students. “You’re a hero.” Neville sighed as he plopped down in a nearby armchair. “Yes, well, being a hero is not all it’s cracked up to be,” he complained. “Gran and I got accosted twice in Madam Malkin’s and four times in Flourish and Blotts last week. I had to duck into Quality Quidditch Supplies to get away from this one girl …” Harry laughed. “Ron loves it,” he said. “He spent half an hour signing autographs in front of the Menagerie last Thursday. George went down to yell at him because we were swamped but it didn’t dampen Ron’s enthusiasm. I think he’s the only one who likes it!” “Well Ronald always has been a little different,” said Luna serenely as she turned the page of her Quibbler. Hermione sniffed and straightened up. “Sorry, Harry,” she mumbled, awkwardly straightening his robes. “Don’t worry about it Hermione,” Harry insisted. Hermione sat heavily in his chair. “It’s just so …” “Wrong,” supplied Ginny as she waved her wand furiously at a nearby wing-back with a threadbare red velvet cover. The chair shuddered a little and then stayed still. Ginny stabbed her wand viciously and flicked it several times before the chair finally stretched itself out and turned into a couch. She sank into it, kicking her shoes off as she propped them on the opposite arm rest. “Yeah, wrong …” echoed Hermione absently. “Wrong?” parroted Harry, staring at Ginny’s legs as she flexed her toes and her robes slid aside. “Yes Harry,” smirked Ginny, shifting slightly so that her skirt rode a little higher. “Wrong because Ron’s missing; the five of us are here … without Ron.” “Yeah, that’s wrong,” muttered Harry. He took the two steps to Ginny’s couch and lifted her legs up so he could sit under them. Neither Ginny nor Harry minded that her skirt rode up a few more inches as he caressed her calves. “Oh, show a little bit of interest,” muttered Hermione. Harry looked up at her in surprise but she was smiling at them. “Sorry,” Harry apologised sheepishly. “Don’t worry, it’ll be first Hogsmeade weekend before we know it,” said Ginny, trailing a hand across Harry’s neck. His skin tingled where she touched it. “We can all go together and meet up with Ron. Well, unless you guys have plans?” She turned to Neville and Luna. “No, I haven’t got any plans,” said Luna making a flourish in her magazine with a large purple quill. “Have you got a new girlfriend Neville?” “Um, n-no,” Neville stammered. “Oh good,” said Luna as she turned a page and suddenly stabbed the quill aggressively into the page. “Then you can be my boyfriend without fear of reprisal.” Neville raised his eyebrows and looked desperately at Harry. “B-boyfriend?” “Yes, we should give it a try,” Luna continued, pulling the quill out of the magazine and turning it upside down. “I suggest we make people aware of our new relationship at the feast tonight.” “Um …” Neville was clearly speechless and he looked desperately at Harry. “Well, if you’re not going to just ask Hannah out, Neville,” said Ginny as she stared at the ceiling, “then you may as well give it a whirl with Luna.” “But I can’t ask Hannah out, she hasn’t come back to Hogwarts,” Neville said a trifle morosely. “Oh, what is she doing then?” asked Hermione as she straightened her parchment. “She’s got some sort of traineeship or something at The Leaky Cauldron,” answered Neville. “She said she wants to be like a hostess or something. I don’t know what she meant. She’s learning how to run the pub.” “Oh, she’ll be great at that,” said Luna suddenly. “I expect you’ll marry her one day.” “Didn’t you just ask Neville out?” asked Hermione sharply. “Why would you say he’s going to marry Hannah?” Luna lowered the Quibbler and stared at Hermione, her eyes looking more protuberant than ever. “Everybody needs practice Hermione,” she said. “I am quite willing to be Neville’s practice. After all didn’t you practice with Viktor Krum and Ronald practiced with Lavender Brown and Harry practiced with Cho. And Ginny has had a lot of practice-” “Thanks Luna,” interrupted Neville hastily as he glanced at Hermione and Ginny who had turned pink and were both glaring at Luna. “Besides,” added Luna, going back to her magazine, “going out with me solves many problems. If you are going out with me it will be easier to turn down all the other girls who throw themselves at you.” Neville just stared at her. “Why would he want to do that?” asked Harry incredulously. “Because I heard Romilda Vane telling Lucy Watford and Chelsea Stone that she was going after him this year and nothing was going to stand in her way,” answered Luna serenely. “Luna?” said Neville suddenly. “Yes Neville?” “Will you go out with me?” “Of course,” answered Luna, laying her quill in the Quibbler like a bookmark. She stood up and grabbed Neville’s hand, pulling him to the door. “Let’s go and find the trolley, I feel like a Pumpkin Pasty and I can check if there are Pluffwogs in the Liquorice Wands.” Harry stared after them in wonder and Ginny giggled. “That is going to be interesting,” she said and Harry could only agree. The rest of the trip was uneventful except for the time Dennis Creevey came stumbling into the Prefects compartment mumbling about his eyesight. It took some effort but Hermione managed to discover the source of his distress. Dennis had inadvertently opened the loo at the end of the carriage while doing a patrol. “I thought it was a cloakroom!” he wailed. “B-but Neville and L-Luna! They … with the … horrible …” Dennis had been the first to learn of Neville and Luna’s new status. He was entirely unwilling to explain exactly what it was that had him covering his eyes and stammering incoherently. Harry could only make an educated guess. Given his recent thoughts about dragging Ginny into a small confined and private space, it wasn’t difficult to imagine at all. It wasn’t easy for Harry to keep a straight face when Neville and Luna came back into the compartment. Ginny grinned at him and Hermione was clearly trying not to laugh as she straightened the already tidy papers on her lap. Luna sat down and opened her Quibbler before addressing Neville who was standing in the doorway with a dazed expression on his face. “I think you should ask Hermione to clean that lipstick off your uniform Neville,” Luna said idly, turning the page of her magazine. “She’s got excellent skills in cleaning charms and Professor McGonagall will probably pick up on it otherwise.” It was a full five minutes before Hermione was sober enough to perform the requisite charm. ***************** Darkness fell over them like a blanket when they arrived at Hogsmeade Station and students were spilling onto the platform, chattering excitedly. Harry peered cautiously out of his compartment. When he’d attempted to buy some Chocolate Frogs from the trolley at about four o’clock he’d been accosted by four incredibly silly girls. He later insisted to Ginny that they had tried to touch him inappropriately. Ginny had only grinned and subtly reached out and pinched his bum. “Oh Harry,” said Hermione as she pushed him into the corridor. “Get a move on. You just need to act normally.” “Oh yeah, and what is normal?” muttered Harry as he tried to flatten his hair and make his way to the end of the carriage to step down onto the platform. He hesitated before opening the door, peering out of the window to see Hagrid standing on the end of the platform, calling ‘Firs’ years over here!’ as if nothing had changed. Harry felt so different. How could things be going on as normal and yet be so different? Surely things had changed. Was he the only one who didn’t notice how different the air felt? Harry could sense a mixture of fear and anticipation coupled with the kind of excitement that signalled the start of a school year. The distant chatter of students speculating about the feast and the booming of Hagrid’s voice blended with the water lapping softly at the edge of the lake. Harry could hear the creaking of the Thestral-drawn carriages and soft snuffling sounds as the animals waited patiently. These sounds were both familiar and foreign. Harry felt apprehensive yet at the same time he felt at peace; as if he was drifting unanchored on a calm sea. Ginny grabbed his hand and he turned to smile at her. Her presence was his anchor; it was all he needed. Unable to stop himself, he leaned down and kissed her softly, as if drawing the strength he’d need from her, before pushing open the carriage door and stepping down onto the platform. The air was brisk and a gust of wind lifted the hem of Harry’s robes as he glanced at the group of students with Hagrid. A handful of them were bigger than the rest and he spotted Gerald among this group, looking long-suffering as Gilbert danced around him, proclaiming his excitement. Hagrid caught sight of Harry and raised an arm in greeting. Harry waved back as several of the smaller students turned around to see who Hagrid was acknowledging. Several jaws dropped in unison and Harry stifled a groan. “All right?” called Hagrid. “All right!” Harry called back. “Of to the carriages with yer then!” called Hagrid over the wind, which seemed to be picking up. He turned to the students in front of him. “Don’ want ter be late! All right First’ Years over here. If you’ve not been to ‘Ogwarts before, this way!” “How are we going to get to school if we don’t go in the carriages?” Harry heard Gilbert say. “I do believe he wants us to get into those boats,” Gerald replied, eying the edge of the lake suspiciously. “Cool,” breathed Gilbert. “I do not wish to travel in a boat,” sniffed Gerald. “With this weather, it could be a disaster.” Hagrid suddenly looked worried. “But yer hafta go in the boats,” he said. “It’s how yer get inter ‘Ogwarts.” “Don’t worry!” said Dean materialising from behind Harry and striding towards the starting students. “No one’s drowned in years!” He clapped the younger boy on the back so hard that Gerald stumbled. “I nearly drowned,” piped up Dennis Creevey from a few metres away. “But Hagrid pulled me right out! You’ll be fine!” “He, on the other hand might not be,” muttered Seamus from behind Harry. Seamus spoke so quietly Harry could barely hear him. Harry looked at Dennis. He seemed all right, but when you looked closer you could see that his shoulders were hunched up around his ears and his face looked tense and drawn. Harry turned away and started towards the carriages before stopping abruptly. He could hear the new students behind him laughing and splashing as they clambered into the boats but the large number of students in front of him were standing almost silently, still on the platform. “Some Slytherin fool started blathering about Thestrals and now no one will leave the platform,” said Seamus, by way of explanation. “Luna and Neville convinced a few to go but most people are a bit …” added Dean as he wandered back towards Harry. “What is with those two anyway? Why are they holding hands?” “They’re going out,” whispered Ginny. Dean pulled a face. “She dumped me to go out with him?” Dean asked incredulously. “At least you dumped me for Harry Potter.” Seamus snickered and Hermione snorted. “She also went out with three Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw and tried to seduce Oliver Wood,’ said Ginny mischievously, “if that makes you feel any better?” “Not really,” grumbled Dean. “Let’s go and get these people into the carriages,” said Harry, desperate to change the subject. “Yeah,” said Seamus, “we figured if anyone can, you can.” Harry’s eyes roamed over the students in front of him. He recognised some of them, some were familiar in a way he couldn’t place and a few were strangers. Many of them looked worried, some looked scared. “We have to get them into the carriages,” whispered Hermione desperately as she surveyed the students in front of them. “We’re in charge. Professor McGonagall expects us to organise the students so they arrive in a timely manner for the Feast.” Harry saw no feasible way of doing this and just looked at Hermione helplessly. “Come on Harry,” said Dean. “You say ‘jump’ and they’ll say ‘how high?’ Just cast a Sonorous and order everyone to get in.” “You can’t just order someone to face their fears, Dean,” Harry replied. “I don’t wanna see a Thestral,” said Dennis suddenly, sounding terribly small. “It’ll make it real.” “You have to help them face their fears,” said Hermione. Harry looked at her and smiled. “Yeah, you do,” he said. “Come on Dennis, you can ride with us.” He slung his arm around the boy’s shoulders and began walking forwards. “B-b-but the Thestrals,” stammered Dennis pitifully. “They’re horrible and grotesque and what if — what if they e-eat me?” “They’re bad luck,” said a small boy nearby. “I don’t want no bad luck. I don’t wanna die!” “That’s seeing a Grim you idiot,” said the boy next to him, rolling his eyes. “You’re not gunna die from seeing a Thestral.” “Harry’s seen ‘em loads of times and he’s fine!” said Seamus in an attempt to be helpful. “Sure, Seamus,” muttered Harry. “That’ll reassure them.” “They are not bad luck,” said Hermione authoritatively. “And they won’t eat you-” “They are classified as dangerous, however,” said a prim looking girl folding her arms across her chest. She was unfortunate enough to look a little like Umbridge and the expression on her face did nothing to ease the resemblance. “Only if you annoy them,” retorted Seamus. “Are you planning on getting into a carriage or annoying them?” “What are you doing here anyway?” asked the girl as she eyed Seamus suspiciously. “You were here last year. I saw you, creating havoc in the corridors. You were a seventh year.” Seamus pulled himself up to his full height so that he could look down on her. “Yeah I was here last year and I was creating havoc and you’d better thank your lucky stars that I was,” he said, puffing out his chest importantly. The girl shook her head and turned away. “Oh so in, mate,” murmured Dean appreciatively. Leaving the student-herding to Hermione, Harry turned to Dean. “So in for what?” “Didn’t you see her?” asked Seamus incredulously. “See her what?” asked Harry. “Look down her nose at you?” “Oh, Harry, Harry, Harry… you have a lot to learn,” said Dean, slapping him on the back. “Oi! You lot get a move on! We don’t want to stand on this platform all night!” He waved his other hand at the students in front of them and began moving them forward like a herd of sheep. “She noticed me,” said Seamus, “creating havoc. She so wants me.” “If you say so,” said Harry, shrugging as he moved forward with Dennis still under the shelter of one arm and Ginny clinging to his other hand. “You wait and see!” called Seamus after him. “She’ll be going out with me by the end of the month!” The moving tide of students seemed to stop and Harry had to battle through them to get to the carriages. Hermione was standing in front of a group of awed third years, trying to convince them to get in a carriage. One boy was shaking his head. “I liked them better horseless,” he protested. “How do we know they aren’t going to bite us? What if we annoy them and we don’t know we annoyed them?” “They look gross,” said a brown-haired girl in disgust. “I’m not going anywhere near that thing!” “I can’t see anything,” protested one boy, several feet away from Harry. “Why can’t I see them? I wanna see them!” “No you don’t,” muttered Dennis, shivering. “Well, where were you last year?” Hermione asked the boy, clearly losing patience with the students. “Oh Roderick here wasn’t at school last year,” volunteered a short, plump girl Harry thought he recognised as a Ravenclaw. “I don’t reckon you had to be at school last year to be able to see ‘em,” muttered Kevin Whitby, the Hufflepuff fifth year Prefect. “Taylor Banks wasn’t here and he’s cowering over in that corner.” Harry sighed heavily; that the war had touched almost every child on the platform, some as young as twelve years old, depressed him. The cacophony of voices rose around him as more students left the platform and caught sight of the creatures for the first time. More than one girl screamed and there were several expressions of loathing or disgust. He slowly moved forward, Dennis slipped out of his grasp and Ginny let go of his hand, probably to comfort Dennis, he didn’t know, he was intent on the Thestral harnessed to the second carriage. The animal was looking at him, its white eyes glowing in the dark so brightly Harry felt like it was communicating with him. The Thestral ducked its head slightly as Harry approached and he realised it was the one he’d ridden to London, which seemed like a lifetime ago. He reached out to stroke the animal on its nose and it raised its head and snuffled softly. “Better be careful you don’t get bitten, Potter!” called a voice full of disdain from the front carriage. Malfoy, the sixth year Prefect and several Slytherins were seated in the carriage. “I’m not the one who taunted a Hippogriff, Malfoy,” Harry retorted. “I actually listened in Care of Magical Creatures.” The Thestral stretched its neck out and butted Harry gently on the cheek as if to prove his point. Harry turned questioningly to the Thestral, unaware that his actions and the Thestral’s response had caused the students to fall silent. “Yes, well you always did have a lot of sheer, dumb luck, didn’t you Potter?” Malfoy sneered before pulling his head back into the carriage. Harry watched as the first carriage took off and the Thestral he was standing with nudged his hand. Harry turned to it. “You’re ready to go, aren’t you?” he asked. The Thestral shook its head as if in agreement. “Okay, let’s go.” Harry opened the door to the carriage and motioned to Hermione and Ginny. “Oh yes, come with us,” came Luna’s voice from inside. Dennis, who was clinging to the end of Ginny’s sleeve and walking as far away from the Thestral as he could manage, blanched. “They’re not going to snog again are they?” he whispered desperately and Harry tried in vain to stop the laughter. Pushing Dennis up the carriage steps he turned to watch the student body cautiously approach the carriages and climb in. A few of the girls squawked when the animals turned to look at them and he heard a few sighs of disgust and saw a few shudders but the students soon organised themselves into he carriages. Harry ducked back into his own carriage and squeezed in between Hermione and Ginny, stifling a grin at the look of disgust on Dennis’s face as Luna swung her legs into Neville’s lap, and they headed off along the lane to Hogwarts. The carriage Malfoy had been riding in was standing outside the entrance to the castle when Harry’s carriage pulled up. The Slytherins who had been inside it were nowhere to be seen. Slowly the six of them climbed out of the carriage and stood in front of the great oak doors. Harry, having helped Ginny down, kept a hold of her hand and he felt her hand gripping his tightly. “Cor the old girl cleaned up all right,” said Seamus cheerfully from behind Harry. “Never thought I’d see the castle looking this good again. Made a right mess of it last time we were here-” “Seamus!” hissed Hermione. Harry turned to look at him and noticed students disembarking from the carriages, but unlike past years no one was streaming up the steps and inside. There was no cheerful noise, just a quiet murmuring and a few people looking sideways at him as if they were waiting for him to do something. Harry cleared his throat. “Well, the first years’ll be arriving soon, we’d better go inside,” he said loudly and motioned to Hermione with his head. “Oh, right, yes of course,” added Hermione in a loud voice that sounded just a little bit fake. “Come on then. Let’s go.” She grabbed Seamus by the elbow and tugged at Dennis’s arm and she and Harry started up the steps. It was as if Harry putting his foot on that first step into Hogwarts broke some sort of spell. Students began clambering up the steps, chattering madly. Harry pushed the great oak doors open and stepped into the Entrance Hall. As the students spilled through the great oak doors things began to seem more like students at the start of a new school year and less like a procession of mourners entering a mausoleum. As he walked through the Entrance Hall Harry could hear excited girls comparing their new robes, nonchalant boys comparing their new haircuts and a few people who had misplaced their pets. He had chosen to let Liberty fly to Hogwarts, not wanting to carry her in a cage on the train. She had grown a bit more in the last few months, looking more and more like Hedwig. Sometimes Harry felt sad as he watched her fly in circles above The Burrow. She looked so much like Hedwig and she showed the exact same disdain for Pig’s antics that Hedwig had. A few times he caught himself calling her Hedwig. But she wasn’t Hedwig, she didn’t respond to Harry and his moods the way Hedwig had, she was a more excitable bird and despite looking almost exactly like Hedwig had, she definitely wasn’t the same. Harry was getting used to her but he just couldn’t face it if she’d been mistaken for Hedwig by well meaning students. He felt terrible every time he did it himself and a sense of guilt and loss settled in the pit of his stomach like a stone. Harry was grateful to Hagrid for bringing him Liberty and he was fond of the bird but he was finding it hard to bond with her because she simply couldn’t replace Hedwig. He now understood why the Weasleys kept Errol. Crookshanks and Dora had been collected by Hagrid the day before so that Hermione could concentrate on her Head Girl duties without worrying about her cat. Ron had said she was daft if she thought Crookshanks was going to stop her from doing her duties and a full scale row had ensued. Harry had excused himself and gone out to help Ginny secure Dora for transport. He’d actually grown quite attached to the little Creeler and found he was looking forward to seeing her tomorrow. An awed silence fell as the doors to the Great Hall swung open. Malfoy was standing just outside them and he gazed lazily at the crowd of students. “Get a move on then,” he called out. “I’d like to eat before midnight.” “After Harry,” said Dennis Creevey suddenly sounding a lot stronger than he had all day. “He should go first, it’s only right.” Malfoy scowled. “It’s just a room,” he said disdainfully. “Why should Potter go first?” “That’s not just a room, you tosser!” called Seamus. “Oh, how lovely, a word from the peanut gallery,” said Malfoy in faux pleasure. “Come Astoria my dear, let us go and get a seat.” “Astoria?” Harry heard Ginny smirk. “What sort of name is Astoria?” Although Malfoy and the girl called Astoria had stepped into the Great Hall, Harry could see that none of the other students had moved. A couple of teachers were conversing in low tones at the Head Table. Harry thought it was Professor Vector and Professor Sinistra but he wasn’t sure, their bent heads obscured by enormous brimmed hats. Professor Trelwaney, unmistakable in her trailing shawls and large eyeglasses, was sitting watching her plate closely and Professor Sprout, in her patched hat, was quietly gazing out over the Hall and beaming at the students in the doorway. Harry couldn’t see Professor McGongall, which surprised him, but he had little time to think on it as Hermione began whispering and poking him. “Stop that,” he snapped at her, rubbing his side where she’d poked him a little overzealously. “Come on Harry,” she hissed back. “If you go in, they’ll all go in.” Harry looked at the inviting Hall, its ceiling twinkling with numberless stars, the floating candles casting a warm glow and the tables laid out to greet them. It was just how it had always looked and Harry felt a warm feeling spread outward from the centre of his chest until his fingers and toes tingled. He glanced around at the students milling about in the Entrance Hall and then stepped towards the doors. Although he had been in the Great Hall since that final confrontation with Voldemort, it had been a broken and dusty place. Now the fireplaces crackled with inviting fires, new beams shone in the corners, holding up lamps on glittering new chains. The four House tables shone once more. Harry looked around in awe, slowly walking into the Great Hall, the rest of the students following him. “Look,” said Ginny softly, her hand gripping his own. Harry looked to where she was pointing with her other hand. There, near the door to the Trophy Room sat Dumbledore’s chair. A gleaming new plaque shone above it. The other students were sitting at their House tables, the chatter once again rising in volume but Harry walked slowly up to the chair, reaching out to touch the plaque and read what was inscribed there. Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape “I couldn’t bear to sit in it,” said a soft voice at Harry’s shoulder. “It’s a wonderful monument, Professor,” said Harry, turning to face McGonagall. “I’m sure you’ll follow in their footsteps brilliantly.” “Only for this year, Mr Potter,” she answered. “I’m getting old Harry. The school needs someone younger, new blood.” She looked suddenly old as she turned away. Harry lingered over the chair for only a moment longer before turning towards the Gryffindor table. As he passed the Slytherin table he heard Malfoy talking to Astoria who was rapidly being established as his new girlfriend. Harry wondered idly what Pansy Parkinson thought about that but was jolted from his thoughts by Malfoy’s sardonic comments. “It still might be a good year. You can’t assume that old McGonagall is going to play favourites. Although I suppose it’s a good bet,” he drawled. It was as if he knew Harry was approaching. His next comment was designed to goad. “Saint Potter’s the Golden Boy, so he’s bound to get favoured. Already has if you ask me.” “Malfoy, just let it go,” said Harry quietly. “Well, the reverence you’re shown is a bit much to stomach is all,” said Malfoy idly. Harry leaned over so that his face was dangerously close to Malfoy’s and spoke quietly but forcefully. “Maybe you had it good here last year,” he said. “But most of these kids were fighting for their lives. This place is the scene of a battle. A bloody, fierce battle and probably more than half these students were here for that. “They saw people die here, Malfoy. They saw the grounds of their school drenched in blood and draped with bodies. They lost friends, they lost family and you will not belittle and mock the struggles and losses we have all experienced.” “Don’t assume last year was a picnic for me,” said Malfoy darkly. “You weren’t even here. What would you know? You were in hiding like a coward.” “Don’t you dare,” hissed Ginny suddenly. “Or what Weaselette?” Malfoy asked, sniggering. “What’s a little girl like you going to do?” “You don’t want to find out Malfoy,” Ginny said dangerously. Harry put a restraining hand on her arm but she shook it off. “I can do things to you that would make you cry like a baby. You can thank your little Death Eater friends for my new skills in that area.” “Oh, I am so scared,” Malfoy said coolly, mockingly. “Why so protective of Potter anyway? Protecting your way out of that hovel you call a house-” He was cut off by Harry’s wand resting against his throat. “Don’t you ever talk to her like that,” said Harry through gritted teeth. “And don’t you try and tell any of us that what we went through last year wasn’t as bad what you did. Don’t insult their memory like that.” “Mr Potter!” Harry turned to see Professor McGonagall looking thunderous. “Uh oh, now you’re in for it,” muttered Malfoy gleefully. “Am I to understand it that you are engaging in fighting in my school?” the Professor asked. “In the Great Hall no less, before we even begin!” The noise level in the Great Hall dropped as students tried to listen into the altercation. Harry could see Hermione frowning at him. “It’s just … well …” “See to it that you cease to engage in fighting in this school, Mr Potter,” McGonagall interrupted briskly. “Any further incidents will be met with a detention. I am sure you are aware exactly what sort of example we expect from the Head Boy; and from our Prefects Mr Malfoy.” She fixed them both with an icy glare before stalking to the Head table in a swish of tartan. “Harry!” scolded Hermione as Harry when he got to the Gryffindor table. “I can’t believe you got into trouble the minute you got here!” Harry just looked at her and shrugged. “He started it,” he said. It was his only defence and Hermione rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe she said that to you,” said Seamus, shaking his head as they sat down at the Gryffindor table. “Well, she is the Headmistress,” said Harry reasonably. “Well, I think it’s a bit rich,” said Dean. “They can’t go changing the rules on you like that. I bet no one gave you a detention last time you had a fight in the Great Hall.” They were still laughing riotously when Professor Flitwick entered the room carrying a stool and a battered floppy hat. Most of the starting students walked into the Great Hall slowly, clearly awed by the vista in front of them. Harry saw the three boys he had met in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Othello was striding solemnly along the aisle between the tables. Hamish was ambling along beside him, his hands in his pockets looking curiously at his surroundings. Dexter was trotting along behind them, his hands clutching a fat toad and his shorter legs struggling to keep up with his friends. His roaming eye caught Harry’s and he smiled widely. Harry smiled back and then noticed Gilbert, still galloping in excitement around his older brother who was staring disdainfully at the tattered Hat that sat on the stool and towered over Professor Flitwick. Gilbert was chattering excitedly and Harry wondered how long the older brother would be able to tolerate the younger boy. At that moment Gilbert noticed Harry and waved at him enthusiastically. Harry waved at him in greeting and settled back to study the Head Table as he waited for the Sorting to begin. Hagrid had come in and sat down next to a short, wiry little man with thinning grey hair. He had a bulbous red nose and beady little eyes, his floppy hat fell incongruously over his left ear. The other teachers were familiar except for a plump motherly looking witch in sparkling blue robes and a thin man with striking blue eyes and a ridiculous brown fuzzy hat that Harry eventually realised was actually a cat when it suddenly uncurled, stretched and leapt lightly onto the floor. Harry craned his neck to see where it went and finally located it curled up on the man’s right foot. He nudged Hermione. “Who do you suppose that is?” he asked her. “New teacher,” Hermione whispered. “I know that,” Harry answered, rolling his eyes. “What’s his name?” “I don’t know Harry, now shush,” she hissed back. Harry fell silent in quiet contemplation of these new teachers. The short, wiry man with the bulbous nose was acting terribly nervous and when Harry caught his eye the man dropped his serviette and ducked under the table. Harry moved his contemplation to the motherly woman who was sitting next to Professor Trelawney and patting her on the hand gently. She seemed inoffensive enough but simply wasn’t giving off enough clues for Harry to think anything more of her. The thin man with the cat hat most intrigued Harry however. His blue eyes sparkled as he surveyed the students and he seemed at ease, even happy to be there, something Harry rarely recalled seeing in his teachers. Slughorn was sitting on the end of the table wearing an impossibly vibrant purple waistcoat under garish green robes that glittered with silver embroidery. “Who cares who they are,” said Ginny petulantly. “I hope this Sorting doesn’t take too long, I’m starving.” Harry and Hermione exchanged an amused glance with Neville. ‘Although I look quite ragged, If you're careful you will see, I've reason t'act the braggart, But don't be afraid of me! I'll look inside your head, my dears, And we shall Sort you out, For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat, So dance and sing and shout! For I shall know where you're to go, I'm smarter than the rest, Just put me on and you shall see, That I know what is best! From brave and loyal Gryffindor, Some heroes there have come, And made the world a safer place, So we could have some fun! A Hufflepuff is patient, Truer friend you'd never seek, Despite their soft exteriors, They’re loyal, but never meek! In Ravenclaw you'll find those kind, So full of wit and brains. They study hard and can tell you, About the other planes! Slytherins are cunning, Of this, no one will deny. But underneath the Sorting Hat, I see their complex minds! If in the distant future, Just as in the distant past, The Houses fight for dominance, Hogwarts will end at last. Let's put the past behind us, And move on as best we can. Dark times are left behind us, If we just stick to the plan. So as the Founders wanted, friends, Let's start a new school year, And let the hallowed Hogwarts halls, Be without former fear.’ Professor Flitwick unfurled a scroll that was longer than he was tall, the end of it trailing on the floor. Harry felt a soft warm hand slide onto his knee and he turned to look at Ginny. She was staring at the Hat, her face pale. She looked apprehensive and just a little unsure. “All right?” he asked her, sliding an am around her shoulders. She nodded jerkily and did not resist as he drew her closer, and heedless of the crowd around them, pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Ginny’s hand tightened on his leg and Harry rubbed her arm slowly. “It was on fire,” was all she whispered, closing her eyes. Harry didn’t know what to say so he wrapped his other arm around her and rubbed her back. “It’s okay now,” he said to her. “That’s all over.” He watched the first student sit under the Hat and in his mind’s eye he saw the flaming Hat on Neville’s head. Harry shook the image from his head and turned back to Ginny. “I’m all right,” she said suddenly, pulling away from Harry and sitting up, pretending she hadn’t been unnerved by the sight of the singing Hat. Harry had not seen the first few Sortings, intent as he had been on Ginny. He looked up and saw a small red-headed girl hurrying to the Hufflepuff table and noticed there were no new additions to the Gryffindor table. Gerald Chumley was now making his way up to the Hat, still eyeing it disdainfully. He put the Hat on his head tentatively and sat there for some time, it looked like he was arguing with it. Eventually Gerald tore the Hat off his head and dumped it forcefully on the stool before stomping towards the Gryffindor table. “Gryffindor,” the Hat squawked belatedly. Gerald sat heavily at the Gryffindor table and barely nodded at Hermione as she greeted him, eyeing the Ravenclaw table longingly. Dennis Creevey was looking at the younger boy askance and many of the Ravenclaws seemed relieved. The tense silence that blanketed the rest of the hall was broken by Gilbert. He clattered noisily up the steps before Professor Flitwick even called his name and picked up the Hat carefully. “Sorry about him,” he said cheerfully to the Hat as he straightened out the tip and dusted it off a little. “He’s a bit of a git and thinks he’s right brainy. I ‘spect he wanted Ravenclaw, didn’t he? I can’t wait to see where you think I should go!” The Great Hall broke out in titters and giggles as Gilbert placed the Hat delicately on his own head. It was only seconds later that the rip in the brim of the hat opened and shouted ‘GRYFFINDOR!’ “Well it’s obvious that one’s got guts,” said Seamus as Gilbert, a wide smile on his face galloped towards the Gryffindor table. “Welcome to Gryffindor, Gilbert,” smiled Hermione, not put off by his older brother’s earlier snub. “You’re the Head Girl, aren’t you?” Gilbert said breathlessly. Hermione nodded. “I know. I could see the badge on your robes. I’m very observant like that.” The boy subsided for a moment and his brother scowled at him. “What do you think of Hogwarts so far?” Ginny asked him. “I think it’s brilliant,” said Gilbert excitedly. “Did you see that big guy who took us on the boats? He’s like a giant! I bet he’s the biggest man in the whole world!” Hermione stifled her laughter by turning it into a cough and Harry grinned. “Yeah, that’s Hagrid,” said Ginny. “He’s the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, look.” She pointed at the head table where the teachers were watching intently as Doris Mumford and Boris Newman were sorted into Hufflepuff. Seamus snorted. “Doris and Boris, Hufflepuff has scored this year!” he chuckled as the rather pudgy boy squeezed into a seat at his new House table. The number of first years left was dwindling and only a handful of the older starting students remained when Gilbert began talking again. “I hope there will be more in Gryffindor,” he said. “I wouldn’t like to write home and tell Mum that I don’t think I’ll have any friends in my year.” The boy frowned slightly. “That is if you write to Mother at all,” said Gerald pompously. “I daresay you’ll get so caught up in the … excitement of everything that you’ll forget and it will be up to me to remind you.” “I’m not going to forget,” Gilbert said petulantly. “You’re the one who gets caught up in all your reading and your studying. I’ll probably have to remind you!” “Well just see that you write to her,” Gerald said stiffly. “I will if you will,” retorted Gilbert. “You’ll both write to her,” interjected Harry. “Every week.” Gerald merely looked down his nose at Harry but Gilbert turned to him excitedly. “You’re the Head Boy,” he said. Gilbert jerked a thumb at Hermione. “Your badge matches hers. I didn’t know you were the Head Boy when we met you at the train station.” He seemed about to say something else but wasn’t given the chance because the Gryffindor table erupted in cheers as another first year was sorted into the House. Othello made his way towards the Gryffindor table smiling brightly and was immediately pounced on by Gilbert. The two of them began an animated conversation that had Gerald scowling heavily. When Hamish was sorted into Gryffindor moments later he and Othello high-fived each other enthusiastically and the three boys sat watching and waiting. Harry knew they were waiting for Dexter. The small boy stood nervously, clutching his toad until Professor Flitwick called out ‘Marjorie Smith,’ when the toad suddenly leapt out of Dexter’s hands and hopped over to Marjorie, a tall, thin girl with long blonde hair and rosy pink cheeks. Marjorie screeched, Dexter dived for the toad and Othello and Hamish both leapt from their seats. “I told you buying a toad was a bad idea!” Hamish bellowed. Othello reached the still screeching Marjorie and dived beneath the hem of her robes, undoubtedly in search of Dexter’s toad but Marjorie obviously didn’t see it that way and began beating him on the back while still dancing about. “CATCH THAT FROG!” she screeched over and over again. “Bartholomew!” cried Dexter plaintively, looking about in vain for the toad. “I keep telling you,” called Hamish excitedly, “call him Bart!” Othello, defending himself from the blows Marjorie was raining on him, pulled away from the girl, his hands raised over his head. The motherly new teacher and Professor Sinistra hurriedly got up from their chairs and hurried towards the first years, most of whom were now in various states of distress with one small girl crying piteously into a tiny white handkerchief. Hermione, galvanised into action as the sight of the crying child, grabbed Harry by the arm. “Come on,” she said urgently, “we need to help!” Harry had no idea what exactly she wanted him to do but obediently got up, prepared to throw himself into the chaos. Dexter was still wailing plaintively for his pet. “Oi! Neville, find that toad!” shouted Harry over the din. Neville leapt up and scanned the floor before heading to the Ravenclaw table where several girls were standing on one of the benches. Othello, obviously unaware or uncaring of his earlier faux pas had dived towards Marjorie again and she recommenced her screeching, adding to the caterwauling. Hermione had reached the small girl crying into her handkerchief and the two teachers had settled down a few of the other students, one of whom, however, was trying to climb on the Sorting Hat stool wailing about mice. Professor Flitwick was struggling under the Hat which had been knocked onto his head and Harry could hear the diminutive Professor squeaking that he had already been sorted and that the ‘blasted Hat’ should know that. Harry reached out and pulled Othello upright by the back of his robes. “All right Marjorie, that’s enough,” he said. “Othello is not trying to look up your robes. Othello, mate, don’t go looking under girl’s robes even if it is to find a toad. You and Hamish go and sit down, next to Gilbert.” The two boys did as they were bid, both looking slightly dishevelled and sheepish. “Get off the stool,” Harry motioned to the girl who was still perched on the edge of it and strode over to pull the Hat off Flitwick’s head while the Professor struggled with his scroll of parchment. “The rest of you just calm down,” Harry commanded. “You’re not going to die at the hands of Dexter’s toad.” The first years looked at him with a mixture of awe and amazement and the crying and screeching slowly subsided. “I’ve got the toad!” called Neville. He was emerging from under the Hufflepuff table, the fat toad clasped in his hands. “Dexter,” Harry said patiently. “Get a carry basket for Bartholomew, okay?” Dexter nodded solemnly as Neville reached him and handed back his toad. “I think we’re ready to continue with this Sorting, Professor,” said Harry. “Well, this is the biggest farce I have even been witness to,” said Gerald loudly. “It looks like these teachers have no control whatsoever. Students shouldn’t be telling us what to do.” “That’s enough, Gerald,” said Harry. “I know you don’t want to be here, but just make the effort, okay?” “You can’t tell me what to do!” retorted the boy, his voice rising to a shout. “Who died and made you the boss anyway?” A deathly silence fell over the Great Hall. Harry scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Oi, do you know who this is mate?” Seamus asked. He looked ready to get up and deck Gerald. “He’s the Head Boy,” said Gerald scathingly. “I thought that was well established.” “The Head Boy is supposed to help the teachers, Gerald,” Harry hastily interrupted, sensing Seamus was about to really erupt. Harry turned to Seamus and shook his head slightly and Seamus subsided. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat and squeaked Marjorie’s name again. This time the girl made it to the Sorting Hat without incident and the Hat bellowed ‘GRYFFINDOR!’ almost immediately. “What?” gasped Othello loudly. “She’s never brave!” Marjorie halted on her way to the Gryffindor table before continuing and sitting at the very end, turning away haughtily from the scowling boys. The Sorting continued with another four girls into Gryffindor and two Slytherin boys, then Dexter was the only one left. He scampered up to the stool, Bartholomew clutched in one hand and cramming the Hat on his head with the other. The Hat fell right over the boy’s eyes and he looked extremely comical sitting on the edge of the stool, his legs dangling, his face almost entirely hidden. Bartholomew the toad let out a loud croak as the Hat deliberated over Dexter. His friends looked tense as they watched anxiously, the Hat taking it’s time. “GRYFFINDOR!” the Hat shouted eventually and Harry saw Othello and Hamish slump in relief. Dexter hopped off the stool triumphantly and pulled the Hat off his head. “Yes!” he cried and practically ran over to the Gryffindor table, Bartholomew swinging precariously from one hand. The four first year boys high-fived and back slapped each other heartily as Professor McGonagall arose and tapped her goblet to gain everyone’s attention. Dexter was still hopping about next to Harry who reached over and pushed him into a seat. “To those of you, for whom this is your first night with us, welcome,” Professor McGonagall said. “To the rest, welcome back.” She was looking right at Harry and Hermione when she said this, her eyes sparkling suspiciously and Harry blinked to prevent his own tears from falling. The tables suddenly blossomed with food and the first years gasped in amazement. Gerald Chumley looked entirely unsettled. “This is so cool,” breathed Gilbert reaching for a drumstick and some mashed potatoes at the same time. He stopped dead when a ghostly, silvery heard shot up through his plate and he dropped the drumstick with a squawk. “Good evening!” boomed Sir Nicholas. “And welcome to Gryffindor!” “W-who are you?” stammered Gilbert. “Don’t you know anything?” Marjorie Smith asked with a superior look. “That’s Sir Nicholas, the Gryffindor House Ghost.” “Nearly Headless Nick?” asked Dexter, his mouth falling open. He turned triumphantly to Hamish and Othello. “I told you he was real!” “Cool,” breathed Gilbert, watching Sir Nicholas avidly. “This place is so cool.” Gerald sniffed and turned to his mashed potatoes. Harry could only agree with Gilbert. Hogwarts was cool and he was glad he’d come. He piled his plate high and began eating; listening with half an ear to Seamus’ far-fetched stories of his summer in Ireland with his Great Uncle Patrick. Harry let the hum of the Great Hall wash over him as he ate. The familiar sights and sounds soothed his soul and he felt at ease despite the fact that the Ghosts kept startling Gerald and making two of the new first year girls scream. “Peeves!” shouted Harry eventually after the fifth time the poltergeist had swooped past the Gryffindor table and pelted the students with bread rolls. “Stop it!” Peeves turned around, a bread roll held aloft over Neville’s head. He stared at Harry for a moment before saluting and, lowering the bread roll, soared up and through the wall at the end of the Great Hall. The main course vanished from the tables and delicious looking cakes, tarts and jellies took the place of the roast meats, vegetables and gravies. Harry reached for a piece of treacle tart, laughing with Seamus over a particularly amusing story involving Great Aunt Erin, a clothes peg and a pat of butter. “I mean I never liked visiting them as a kid,” said Seamus wiping away tears of laughter. “But everything is just … better now and things are sort of funnier.” He sobered and he looked up at Harry solemnly. “It’s like a huge Patronus,” said Dean. “It’s like a huge Patronus has just wiped away all the darkness that was hanging over everything.” Harry didn’t know what to say and he just took a bite of treacle tart, swallowing reflexively. He knew they were talking about the end of the war and that they were trying to say it was because of him but he didn’t know how to acknowledge it or talk about it. “Not all of it,” said Ginny quietly. Harry turned to look at her questioningly but she put her head down and began playing with the chocolate cake on her plate. Seamus and Dean went on to rib Neville about Luna but Harry’s mind whirled, his thoughts on Ginny. She did not seem all right but it would have to wait because the Welcoming Feast in the Great Hall on the first night of school definitely wasn’t the place to find out what was bothering her. “Luna’s definitely good fun,” Dean was saying when he pulled his mind back to the conversation going on around him. “Well, you need to have a bit more care than just thinking she’s fun,” snapped Hermione irritably. “Girls aren’t playthings!” “No one said that, Hermione,” said Seamus, narrowing his eyes. “And it’d be a pretty poor boyfriend who thought his girlfriend wasn’t fun!” “Maybe there are other qualities in a girl,” argued Hermione. “Ron thinks you’re fun,” interrupted Neville. Hermione stared at him for a moment. “What?” she asked stupidly. “Ron does think you are fun,” insisted Neville. “He also knows you are smart and kind. He’s not playing with you and if he was here he’d tell us all to shut our immature mouths.” “Oh …” was all Hermione said. They were silent for a while, the pudding diminishing rapidly from the platters in front of them. “Luna will still be fun though,” Dean said eventually and he, Seamus, Neville and Hermione all burst out laughing. Harry smiled absently his thoughts still on Ginny who had cut the cake into little pieces and spread them around the plate but had not eaten any of it. The chatter in the Great Hall was rising again when Professor McGonagall stood to address the assembled students. “Before we head to bed there are a few very important matters to address,” Professor McGonagall began. “Any students, and I do mean any students going into the Forbidden Forest will find themselves in serious trouble. You will all stay out of the Forbidden Forest.” She fixed a frosty look on Harry as she said this and he slouched down in his seat. “Are you capable of that, Harry?” whispered Seamus with a laugh. Harry glared at him and Seamus subsided with a smirk still gracing his features. “Quidditch will be resuming this year,” said Professor McGonagall. Perhaps she would have continued if the students had not erupted in deafening cheers. “Only the best game ever!” shouted Hamish excitedly. Marjorie Smith was looking down her nose at them, she sniffed and turned away. The excited cheering gradually subsided, Professor McGonagall smiling patiently the entire time. “Thank you,” she said eventually when the Hall was quiet enough to continue. “If you are interested in trying out for Quidditch, please give your name to your Head of House. The team captains will advise of try-outs in due course.” “Who is our Head of House?” asked Dean, looking at Hermione. “Professor McGonagall?” said Hermione. She sounded like she was guessing. Harry tuned out the continuing speculation over the Gryffindor Head of House and turned to Ginny who had not even smiled at the mention of Quidditch. She looked extremely pale and very unsettled. “All right?” he whispered, squeezing her hand. Ginny plastered a fake smile on her face and nodded vigorously. Harry wasn’t fooled. He pulled her hand into his own and stroked the back of it with a thumb. Ginny seemed to sag a little against him but said nothing. Harry forced his attention back to Professor McGonagall. “- Mr Filch, our esteemed caretaker wishes me to remind you all that performing magic in the corridors is forbidden,” she was saying. “A list of banned products is on the wall outside his office-” “I bet they all say Weasley!” yelled a voice from the Ravenclaw table and the Great Hall erupted in giggles except for the small sob that escaped the girl at Harry’s side. As Harry turned to her Ginny suddenly leapt up and began running. She ran the length of the Great Hall, pushed the doors open and dashed out into the Entrance Hall before Harry had roused himself and gotten out of his seat. Silence blanketed the Hall as Harry tore after her. As he reached the doors he heard Professor McGonagall say something about new teachers but he paid no attention, instead listening intently for a clue about where Ginny had gone. The Entrance Hall was deserted. He was about to head up to Gryffindor Tower when Neville and Luna appeared by his side. “Do you think she’s up there this time?” Luna asked, her usual dreamy voice replaced by a sharp tone Harry had never heard her use before. “Doubt it,” answered Neville. “Harry’s here now. Kitchens I reckon.” “What?” asked Harry. “I found Ginny in your bed a couple times last year,” answered Neville. “If it had been a bad day, she used to sneak in some time in the night and sleep in your bed.” Harry said nothing, he hadn’t noticed her dot being in his bed, although he conceded that he hadn’t often looked for her name after she’d seemed tucked safely in bed for the night. “So why the kitchens?” he asked Neville as the three of them turned in that direction. He felt helpless and angry with himself that he didn’t know why Ginny had fled or where she had gone. “She never said,” replied Neville, “but I’m pretty sure Dobby used to feed her chocolate cake when she was feeling particularly low. She disappeared a couple of times when things got too much and we always found her in your bed or the kitchens.” “I didn’t know,” said Harry helplessly. “That’s okay, Harry,” said Luna. “You couldn’t know, you weren’t here.” But Ginny was not in the kitchens. Luna headed back to her Common Room after a rather sickening display of saying goodnight to Neville and the two of them headed back to Gryffindor Tower. Neither Harry nor Neville knew the password and it took a heated argument with The Fat Lady to get through the portrait hole. Students milled around the Common Room and the WWN was playing quietly from a set in the corner. The fire crackled merrily and the familiar armchairs and couches seemed warm and inviting. Ginny was not sitting in any of them however. Hermione came down the dormitory stairs after having shown the new girls their dormitories. She shook her head when Harry asked if she had seen Ginny there. There was no sign of Ginny in Gryffindor Tower beyond the trunk waiting for her at the end of her bed. “Room of Requirement?” asked Neville softly. Without another word Harry and Hermione left the Common Room. The walk to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy was tense and silent until Hermione spoke. “Why do you think she left like that?” she asked. Harry shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “She was jittery for a while before that, too. She wouldn’t tell me what was wrong.” “I expect something triggered her,” Hermione shrugged as they reached the tapestry. “You weren’t here; you couldn’t recognise it — Oh!” She broke off, staring at the scorched tapestry and the blackened wall opposite it. Harry pushed down his annoyance at being told again that he hadn’t been here. “Do you think it still works?” he asked. “Only one way to find out,” Hermione began pacing in front of the tapestry as she spoke. The wall did not respond. It just sat there, blackened and silent. Harry tried, pacing three times while asking for the place where Ginny was. “Of course if Ginny’s not there, asking for her won’t work of course,” mused Hermione. She began pacing again. “I need a room to study, I need a room to study, I need a room to study.” The wall remained, stoic and impossibly unmoving. “I think it’s broken,” said Harry. “Well at least she’s not in there if it doesn’t work. How am I supposed to find her? Why would she run off like that?” He knew he sounded desperate and his voice was rising to a whine but he couldn’t help it. He was consumed with worry and an underlying anger that he didn’t know Ginny well enough to know where she was. A repeating mantra was lurking in the background; he’d not been there last year so he wouldn’t know. Harry and Hermione returned slowly to Gryffindor Tower. They were almost at the portrait of The Fat Lady when Hermione suddenly grabbed Harry’s arm. “How is it that we are so stupid?” she hissed and began to run. “Come on!” “What?” yelped Harry as she dragged him along. “The Marauder’s Map!” Hermione said breathlessly. “Why haven’t we been looking at the map? Where is it?” Harry gave himself a mental slap on the forehead. He’d even thought about the map earlier but it had not occurred to him to use it. “In my trunk,” he said as they both ran full tilt towards the Portrait. “Okay, let us in.” He snapped at The Fat Lady. The lady in question looked him up and down and then turned her nose up at him. “You were incredibly rude to me before,” she said haughtily. “And you still don’t know the password. I do not think I shall let you in at all.” Harry gritted his teeth. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Dreadfully sorry; now, could we get in please?” “Harry Potter,” added Hermione. “What?” “No, that’s the password,” Hermione looked at him apologetically. Harry rolled his eyes. “No,” said The Fat Lady. “You can go in dear, but he can’t until he apologises for his outrageous display earlier.” “Harry Potter,” Harry ground out between clenched teeth. “And I’m not apologising. If the password is Harry Potter and I’m bloody Harry Potter why should I have to say it?” The Fat Lady clearly didn’t think much of his apology and began screeching at him about not respecting her person and other things about honour and chivalry that he didn’t really understand. “Just let me in!” Harry shouted just as the portrait hole swung open. He scrambled through into a deathly silence. “What was that all about?” asked Neville from the middle of the room, where he was staring at the portrait hole. The rest of the students seemed to be sitting as still and as quiet as Harry had ever seen them. “She wouldn’t let me in and we had a bit of an argument about my … behaviour before,” said Harry grumpily. He started towards the boys’ dormitory before he stopped and looked around at his housemates. “What’s wrong with this lot?” “We heard shouting from the other side of the portrait hole,” said Seamus. “It scared people,” added Dennis Creevey. “Not the first time someone’s had an argument with her,” said Harry his brows knitted together. “Yes well, we’ve kind of gotten used to shouting meaning there was a Death Eater on the other side trying to get in,” answered Romilda Vane quietly. Harry gazed around at the pale faces watching him. A few first years including Gilbert and Dexter sat near the fire. They looked less scared and merely mildly curious as if they did not really understand what they were supposed to be scared about. Gerald sat in a corner, scowling at the room in general. “She used to go and get Sir Cadogan,” Seamus started. “He helped her keep the Carrows out but she nearly got hexed once and McGonagall had to repair her portrait at least six times when they slashed it in frustration. We were trapped in the Common Room for three hours the last time.” “Oh …” was all Harry said. Underneath his calm exterior his frustration and anger were growing. He turned to go up to go and get the map. Harry didn’t realise how tightly his nerves were strung until Jimmy Peakes spoke. “It’s okay you weren’t here, you didn’t know.” “Stop saying that!” Harry exploded, turning rapidly on the stairs. “Everybody stop saying that! I know I wasn’t here, okay! I wasn’t here; I don’t know the half of it. I get it! Just stop saying it!” “Harry …” Neville’s voice trailed off into the silence “Harry?” Harry heard Gilbert squeak as he turned to go up the stairs. “Harry Potter?” Harry thought Othello may have answered him but he wasn’t sure and he didn’t much care. He stomped up to his dorm room each thud of his feet on the steps satisfyingly loud in the echoing stairwell. He was just opening his trunk when a frantic tapping on the window drew his attention. Liberty was perched outside his dormitory window, a scrap of parchment attached to her leg. She looked like Hedwig, perched out there on the other side of the window. Harry felt a momentary pang of loss as he opened the window and Liberty hopped inside. “Hey girl, is that a letter for me?” Liberty had not brought Harry a letter before but she seemed to sense the importance of the job as she puffed up her feathers importantly. Harry reached out and retrieved the letter. Liberty pecked his hand affectionately before flying out the still open window. Harry unfurled the loosely scrolled letter and recognised Hagrid’s untidy scrawl. ’Harry, I found Ginny’ was all it said. Harry snatched his invisibility cloak and the map from his trunk and without stopping to put the cloak on and with the parchment still clutched in his hand, Harry tore down the stairs and through the common room. He heard Hermione and Neville call after him and vaguely registered Gerald say something triumphantly about Harry Potter not being six feet tall but ignored them all as he scrambled through the portrait hole. He pelted down corridors and staircases, anxious to get down to Hagrid, hoping with everything he had that Ginny was still safe with Hagrid by the time he got there. |
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