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SIYE Time:12:23 on 28th March 2024
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Harry Potter and the Nightmares of Futures Past
By Viridian

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Category: Post-HBP
Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Draco Malfoy, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley, Severus Snape, Sirius Black
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Comedy, Drama, Fluff, Tragedy
Warnings: Death, Violence
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 707
Summary: The War is over and Voldemort is finally dead. Too bad there's no one left to celebrate. Harry risks everything, even returning Voldemort to life, for a chance to go back and do it right this time.
Hitcount: Story Total: 481115; Chapter Total: 15879
Awards: View Trophy Room






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Feeling like they were actually doing something about Sirius gave Harry enough peace of mind for a good night’s sleep. Though he woke as soon as Molly began knocking on doors, he was feeling refreshed. Bouncing out of bed, Harry grabbed a quick shower while the rest of the Weasleys were starting to stir. Remembering the chaos of the Weasley departure the first time around, Harry made a point of packing his trunk both rapidly and systematically. Truth be told, he’d never fully unpacked it. He got it locked and carried down to the back door while Ron was still in the bathroom.

Arthur was in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea and blinking owlishly. “Ah, Harry, you’re already packed? That’s a good lad.”

“Didn’t want to be underfoot when every else was getting ready,” he explained. “Where do you want my trunk?”

“I’ll take it out to the Anglia as soon as I finish this. Wait, you don’t-” Mr. Weasley sighed as Harry headed out the door.

Harry noticed that his trunk was definitely a bit easier to manoeuvre this year, even with a few more books stowed inside. He wondered idly if he could afford one of those trunks like Mad-Eye Moody owned. If he kept picking up new books he might need one.

He left his trunk next to the boot and returned to The Burrow. He hadn’t been inside the Ford Anglia since that nightmarish ride up from Surrey, and he wasn’t looking forward to being inside it again.

Harry grabbed a piece of toast in the kitchen before heading upstairs. Arthur started to get up to check on the boys, but Harry volunteered to help. “After all,” he said, “you’ve got to do the driving. I can just nod off in the back, yeah?” Mr. Weasley’s grin was a bit sickly, and Harry wondered if he was less than fond of London traffic.

When Harry passed the twins’ room, he noticed they were frantically throwing odds and ends into their trunks. Harry shuddered at the disorganized mess. He remembered them having to return to the house twice for forgotten items, nearly making them late. He saw the corner of the Filibuster Fireworks box peeking out from under the discarded coverlet and pointed it out to George. Fred turned white when Harry asked him where his broom was. Harry shook his head as Fred ran down the stairs with no shirt on and only one shoe, hell bent for the broom shed.

Chuckling, Harry went up the next flight and knocked on Ginny’s door. The door popped open a few inches and he saw Ginny’s face above what looked like the neckline of a slip. “Mum, I’m awake, I just-” the door slammed shut with a squeal. “Harry, what are you doing out there?”

Harry felt his face burning, even though he’d done nothing wrong. “I knocked to see if you needed help with your trunk.”

“Er, give me a moment.”

“Sure, I’ll go check on Ron,” he said and beat a hasty retreat.

Harry went upstairs and helped Ron toss things into his trunk. He was still looking under his bed when Mrs. Weasley poked her head in the door. “Are you lot ready yet?”

“Almost,” Harry said. “Just making sure we didn’t leave anything.”

“Please finish up, dears. We need to leave soon if we’re going to make it to King’s Cross in time for the express.”

After finding his copy of Flying with the Cannons under the dresser, Ron latched his trunk shut and started lugging it down the stairs. Harry stopped at Ginny’s landing when he noticed her door was open. He stuck his head inside. “Need a hand?” he asked.

“Just as soon as I get this closed,” Ginny said as she folded her spare cloak and placed it in the corner of her neatly packed trunk. That done, she closed the lid and pulled the latches shut. “Sorry I snapped at you earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said quickly. “You were just startled.”

“I don’t know why I thought you were Mum,” she said with a laugh. “She never knocks.”

“Be careful,” Harry said as he stepped forward and awkwardly lifted the trunk. “I might think you did that on purpose.”

“Prat,&rdquo ; she said cheerfully. “Let me help with that.”

“Nah,” Harry said. “It’s easier to balance by myself. It’s about time I got some good out of all those exercises anyway.”

Ginny snorted and followed him down the stairs. Harry brushed by Molly, who was fussing about Ron’s unkempt hair. They made it out to the Anglia before Harry’s arms even began to get tired. Arthur looked up quickly from the boot, but relaxed when he saw who was approaching. Harry helped him fit Ginny’s trunk into the magically-expanded boot after Arthur swore them to secrecy.

Soon they were ready to leave. The twins, Ron, and Harry were all in the back seat when Ginny sat down next to Harry. “I’d like to be able to look out the window, Mum. I’ve heard Muggles get carsick sometimes if they can’t, and I’ve never ridden long distances before.”

Molly nodded thoughtfully and sat in the front seat with her husband and a slightly disgruntled Percy.

For his part, Harry had never been carsick before, so he wasn’t worried. But when the doors closed and the engine started, he began to feel a little uncomfortable. Closed spaces usually didn’t bother him unduly, but even the magically-expanded passenger compartment began to feel a bit close.

As the Ford Anglia travelled down the path to the road, Harry began to feel his skin crawl. He wrinkled his nose as he got a faint whiff of a sickly smell. He gripped his knees, fingers digging into the fabric as his stomach tried to heave. He’d been a mess when Ron and the twins rescued him from Privet Drive, but surely the back seat had time to air out since then. As filthy as he’d been, he hadn’t left any visible stains on the upholstery.

Nonetheless, every breath he took had a stale reek to it. Every time he closed his eyes, he was back in that suffocating bedroom, waiting to die so the pain would end; trying to hold on for a rescue that might not come. Wondering how long everyone had to live this time if he didn’t stop Voldemort.

He struggled to keep his face impassive. The only thing that would make this worse would be the mortification of everyone realizing he was having some sort of stupid panic attack in the back of their car. Fortunately Ron was talking to the twins about Quidditch while Percy and Molly talked about his prefect duties and Ginny stared out the window, daydreaming. Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes, ignoring the visions that appeared, unbidden and unwanted.

He almost flinched away when he felt a light touch on his forearm. Ginny had moved her hand, letting the heel of her hand rest against his skin. Harry tried to focus on that, rather than the smells or the memories, and he realized that her shoulder was pressing firmly against his upper arm. He let his eyes crack open and glanced at her sidelong.

She was facing forward, seemingly staring out the windshield. Every now and then her eyes would dart in his direction and her lips pursed. Harry sighed and tried to use Occlumency exercises to make himself relax, focusing on the feel of her arm pressing against his. He was more surprised than anything when they stopped at a traffic light and he realized he’d dozed off. After that, he was shaky but basically all right.

They arrived at King’s Cross at quarter past ten, with plenty of time to board the Hogwarts Express. Harry lagged back as they sorted themselves out, and made a point of helping Ginny get her bulky trunk on the trolley.

“Thanks,” he whispered as he wedged her trunk in on top of his.

She smiled, not even pretending ignorance. “I overheard Mum asking Dad if you’d be okay in there. They decided to let you be and see how it went. Like you’d let it show if you could possibly help it.” Harry froze for an instant; surprised that he was so transparent to her. When he straightened up, she was faintly smirking.

Harry stood next to Ginny as they passed through the barrier in pairs. He didn’t think Dobby would be up to his old tricks again, but he didn’t want to chance them getting separated. Too many things had changed for him to absolutely trust his foreknowledge anymore.

Nonetheless, they made it through without a problem. After a round of tearful goodbyes from Mrs. Weasley, they stowed their trunks aboard and found an empty compartment. Harry, Ron, and Ginny settled in, while the twins went looking for Lee Jordan and their Quidditch team-mates and Percy left for the prefects’ meeting. No sooner did they sit down than a slightly agitated Ron left to go find Hermione and Neville.

Harry sat down across from Ginny and closed his eyes, massaging his temples. His headache hadn’t ever fully departed.

“All right, Harry?” Ginny’s voice broke the silence.

He opened his eyes again. She had a concerned frown on her face. “Bit of a headache. Hopefully Malfoy will drop by soon and I can kip out for a bit.”

“Malfoy?” she asked curiously.

“Yeah, little Draco seems to like checking up on his favourite Gryffindors on the express. Bit like a small terrier trying to mark his territory, I suppose.”

Ginny giggled at the mental image. “I think Ron takes him a bit more seriously than you do, Harry.”

Harry frowned. He never did find out what happened to Draco during the war. He’d disappeared off the map shortly after things went straight to hell. It wasn’t even known if he’d been there for the Hogwarts Massacre or not. “Ron is right though. We are probably going to have to do something about him eventually. He hates you and Ron for being Weasleys, he hates Hermione for being Muggle-born, and he hates me for obvious reasons. Watch out for him, especially when the rest of us aren’t around.”

“Do you think I can’t take care of myself?” Ginny asked. She didn’t seem angry, yet, but her voice had a cool tone to it.

“More like Draco never starts anything unless he has you outnumbered or it’s a sneak attack. I’ve told Ron, Hermione, and Neville the same thing.”

Ginny nodded her head thoughtfully. The train whistle blew and the compartment jolted as the train began moving.

A few minutes later the compartment door opened and Ron entered. “Look what the cat brought in,” he said jovially. Hermione rolled her eyes as she followed him through the door. Neville was next, smiling.

“You know,” Harry said, “we ought to just plan on grabbing this last car every time we ride the Express. It’ll make it easier for us to meet up, anyway.”

“Of course, it also means Draco and the others will figure out where they can find us,” Hermione reminded them.

“That’s one of the benefits, Hermione,” Ron chided her. He made sure the door was latched and let Crookshanks out of his carrier. The enormous orange cat glared at him before leaping into Ginny’s lap. She began stroking his ears and a rumbling purr was audible throughout the compartment.

Harry suppressed a stab of jealously towards the cat and smiled. “Any sign of our fan club?” he asked.

“Not yet,” Ron said. “But then again they didn’t start last year until we’d left the station. Probably didn’t want someone’s parents to see what they were up to.”

“Good point,” Harry agreed.

“Gran would love to catch Draco doing something illegal,” Neville agreed. “We talked a lot, over the summer -- about things that, er, happened. She said it’s a disgrace how his dad has so much influence at the Ministry. She said if it were fifty years ago, when she was younger and it was still legal, she’d call him out.”

“You mean a duel?” Ron asked, surprised.

“That isn’t a civilized way of settling things,” Hermione said in a disapproving tone. “It doesn’t prove what’s right, it just shows who is the better duellist.”

“Maybe so,” Harry agreed, “but it’d be nice to keep certain peoples’ mouths from writing checks their bodies can’t cash.” Hermione looked thoughtful at that, but everyone else in the compartment was confused. Harry sighed and explained the Muggle figure of speech.

“You’re right, mate.” Ron said happily. “A good cursing or two would encourage polite behaviour.” He grinned. “Especially with all the curses Hermione has learned.”

Hermione rolled her eyes as they all laughed, but Harry noticed her cheeks grow a bit pink as well. Harry leaned back in his seat and felt the tension ebb out of him. Being with all of his friends again was like a tonic after the tension of the drive to King’s Cross. For a moment Harry wished this train ride could last forever, delaying their arrival at Hogwarts. For now, his friends were happy and safe, and that was all he could ask for. He didn’t even realize he was dozing as the murmur of conversation lulled him to sleep.

He dreamed he was in an underground chamber lined with serpentine statues. He was looking desperately for something he couldn’t find. Worse, he’d forgotten what he was searching for. He tried to raise his wand for light, but remembered he’d dropped it. Why had he done something stupid like that?

A loud bang yanked him out of his disturbing dream as the compartment door was thrown open. His hand was already digging into his sleeve for his wand as he opened his eyes. Ginny was standing in the doorway, looking dishevelled and angry. “Get your wands and follow me!” she hissed.

Harry leapt to his feet, his mind racing. She didn’t appear to be hurt, just furious.

“What is it?” Ron asked, his voice cracking.

“Stop wasting time and follow me,” she snapped. Harry blinked and nodded quickly. He hadn’t seen Ginny this angry before, even when she was talking about Percy carrying tales.

She took off down the corridor, Harry right on her heels. He heard footsteps behind him as the others hurried out of the compartment. Just past the lavatories, he saw a group of students bunched up in the aisle.

“I think the little freak is going to cry,” a taunting voice called out. Harry recognized Draco Malfoy’s sneer.

“I think you’re right, Draco. What’s the matter, Loony, going to have your father write a story about it in his newspaper? Not that anyone reads that tripe.” As he got closer, he recognized Pansy’s nasal twang. Looking over them, he could see that they’d surrounded a smaller girl with short blond hair and protuberant blue eyes.

“Ow! She kicked me, the little trog,” Crabbe growled.

“We’ll do worse if you don’t let her go right effing now,” Harry growled. He ignored the quiet hiss that he knew had to have come from Hermione. He had more pressing matters to worry about than how his language had deteriorated over the course of the war.

“Don’t even think of ordering us around, half-blood. We don’t take orders from blood traitors either,” Draco snarled. Then he got a nasty smile. “I heard how the Weasels had to take you in, Potter. Are you so desperate you had to buy a family now? I hope they came cheap.”

Harry ignored Ron’s growl. As he responded, he focused his attention on the patterns of red and gold the light made in Ginny’s hair. He didn’t want to lose control and fire the first curse. “No, but I was touched by the bid your father made for me. Especially considering it came from a lying, murdering death eater who doesn’t even have the balls to own up to his crimes. I guess that runs in the family too, huh?”

He looked back up as Draco’s face went crimson. “Frigidio!”  he snapped as a blue streak exploded from the end of his wand.

Protego!”  Harry called out as he extended his wand over Ginny’s shoulder. A shimmering glow appeared in front of them and the blue streak bounced off of it and slammed into the lavatory door. The metal door was beaded with condensation as a thick streak of frost appeared where the spell had struck.

Mucosa Volatis!”  Ginny’s wand sent a greenish beam into Crabbe’s face. He pressed both hands to his nose as his eyes widened in horror. He squealed as a gray-green winged form wriggled out from between his palms and began circling his head and clawing at his eyes. He let go of his nose to swipe at the tiny bat and three more burst from his nostrils.

While he was occupied, the girl he’d been holding onto was able to wriggle free and run toward the Gryffindors. Pansy made a grab at the girl’s robes but yanked her hand back when Hermione hit it with a stinging hex.

The other Slytherins pulled out their wands and Harry braced himself and reinforced his shield charm when someone began shouting. “Stop it right this instant. Wands away! I said stand down or everyone here will be serving detentions!” Percy’s face was almost as red as his hair. A Ravenclaw student with long brown hair and a Prefects badge on her robes was right on his heels as well.

Draco and his cronies reluctantly shoved their wands into their robes. Percy dispelled the hex on Crabbe, being quite careful not get any spattered bogeys on himself. With muttered threats and surly looks, the Slytherin students slowly turned and filed away past the prefects.

Harry did not release the shield charm until every wand was out of sight, much to Percy’s visible annoyance. He slid his wand into his sleeve, noting the glares Ginny and Ron were giving their brother. Hermione was patting the back of the blond girl, who Harry recognized as a much younger Luna Lovegood. Ron and Neville were up on their toes, trying to see over everyone.

Harry had always considered Percy to be moderately clever. Today there was little evidence of this as the Gryffindor prefect tore into his housemates.

“What did I tell you about starting trouble?” He hissed at Harry. “This kind of behaviour is not to be tolerated. Mum is not going to want to hear about you getting detention before we even arrive at Hogwarts.”

“I’m sure you’re just dying to tell her, too,” Ginny said disdainfully before Harry could nudge her.

Percy turned toward his sister in surprise, but Ron’s voice broke in. “While you’re at it, you can try explaining why we had to stop them harassing a new student. Where were you ruddy prefects when that was happening?”

“It’s been going on a while, too,” Ginny said, “I heard them when I was in the lavatory and they tried to grab me when I came out.”

Harry ground his teeth when he realized why her hair had been in such disarray when she opened the compartment door. He glared furiously at Percy now. Where the hell were you when they were trying to hurt your sister? He asked silently.

“Get back to your compartment!” Percy snarled. His face had gone the colour of bricks and the female prefect laid her hand on his arm, her expression questioning.

Harry spun on his heel and they all walked back to their berth, Luna sandwiched between Hermione and Ron. As soon as they were inside, Ron angrily slammed the door shut, making them all jump. “That worthless prat!” he snarled. “He barely says anything to the Slytherins, but he gets all over us about it!”

“I’m sure he just doesn’t want to look like he’s showing favouritism,” Hermione said in a soothing tone. “He doesn’t want people to think he’s like Professor Snape.”

“No, he was just dying to get Harry in trouble,” Ginny disagreed, her face flushing, “especially with Mum.”

Harry blinked. Ron glared at his sister, but didn’t say anything. Luna sat silently on the bench between Hermione and Neville. She jumped when Neville cleared his throat. “Can someone explain what’s going on?” Neville asked. “Slowly?”

“Percy’s just being a git,” Ron replied truculently. “He barely talked to anyone all summer.”

“He’s been especially unbearable this last month,” Ginny added. “And he’s even snarky to Harry.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asked cautiously.

“Well, er, you’ve never pranked him, ever,” she said. “It’s one thing if he snarls at Ron, or the twins. They probably did something at some point to deserve it.”

Ron scowled and started to open his mouth, but shut it.

Harry looked back and forth between the two red-heads. “That’s not all of it, is it?” he asked slowly.

Ron looked at his sister again and sighed. “Well, when the twins and I were making plans to get you, Percy stumbled over us and got pretty shirty about it. He kept going on about how we needed to mind our own business, and how the Ministry would take care of it if there was a problem. If we did anything, we could get Dad in trouble at work, so we needed to butt out.”

“And when he turned out to be wrong?” Hermione asked softly.

“That’s it. He never said he was wrong,” Ron groused. “He wouldn’t even talk about it.”

“Nothing harder to do than forgive someone for proving you wrong,” Harry muttered.

“So he sort of has it in for you, Harry?” Neville asked, sounding somewhat confused.

“Could be,” Harry agreed. He didn’t remember Percy being so hostile until after he’d gone to work for the Ministry. He wondered if it had something to do with him coming to The Burrow.

“He’s a prat to everyone, Harry,” Ron said.

“Ron, you saw him after we came back from Diagon Alley,” Ginny said, shaking her head. “He couldn’t have been waiting for more than five minutes, but he couldn’t wait to tell Mum and Dad.”

“Did anyone ask him if he had a problem with me coming to live at The Burrow?” Harry asked, his voice little more than a whisper.

“He didn’t say anything when Mum and Dad talked to us about it beforehand,” Ron said, frowning thoughtfully.

“That’s not quite the same thing though, is it?” Ginny mused.

“I think he also was disappointed because he wanted to look good for that person he was with,” the blond girl said as she picked at the seam of her sleeve.

No one else knows that he was writing all those letters to Penelope Clearwater, Harry thought with some amusement. “You may be right,” he said carefully, suppressing a grin. Looks like Luna always had a talent for noticing things.

Ron seemed a bit startled at the idea, but Ginny was just thoughtful. “By the way everyone, this is Luna Lovegood. Luna, this is Harry, Hermione, and Neville. Unfortunately, you’ve met Ron already.”

Harry ignored the squawk of outrage from his friend and nodded politely to the girl. She gave him a rather odd look before she turned toward the others. “I appreciate you stopping them,” she said distantly. “It was starting to get repetitive. I suppose I should be used to it by now though.”

“That’s tripe, Luna,” Ginny snapped. “You don’t have to put up with that, and you know it.”

Luna just shrugged and glanced at the window.

“I was hoping things would settle down over the summer,” Hermione grumbled. “But it seems like Draco and his friends are just taking up where they left off.”

Harry sighed. “Hermione, you’ve sat classes with that lot. You know how stupid they are. Those pureblood fanatics are going to hold onto their bigotry until they are dragged, kicking and screaming, into the twentieth century.” He shrugged and smiled. “That being the case I’d rather we were doing the kicking and they were doing the screaming.”

Ron let out a loud laugh, echoed by Neville. Ginny smiled warmly at Harry while Hermione sighed, though the corner of her mouth did curl upward.

Luna stared at Harry without blinking. “You must all be in Gryffindor,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

The rest of their journey passed in relative peace. Ron coaxed Hermione into a game of chess while Ginny and Luna talked and Neville leafed through a Herbology journal.

Harry dozed off again, but at least that weird dream didn’t return. When he awoke, they were almost to Hogsmeade and a couple of chocolate frogs were sitting on his lap. He blinked at his friends in confusion, but no one would tell him who had purchased the treats for him. He shrugged and ate one as the train came to a halt.

Harry shrugged into his school robe as students began filing off the train. He and his friends clambered down the back steps and onto the platform. It only took a moment to spot Hagrid’s head looming above the crowd.

 “Firs’ years, over here!” Hagrid boomed as some of the shorter students looked around in confusion. “Ever’ one else, on ter th’ carriages!” Gradually, the milling students began to sort themselves out.

“Alrigh’, Harry?” the huge man called out as he spotted them approaching.

“Doing great, Hagrid,” Harry said, smiling. “We have two new students here starting this term, Luna and Ginny.”

“Well, I’ll keep a close eye on ‘em for ye, Harry,” Hagrid replied, peering down at the girls. “I heard Arthur and Molly broke all th’ rules and had a lil’ girl,” he rumbled. “And I went ter Hogwarts wit’ a Lovegood. Was that yer Dad?” he asked Luna.

The blond girl just cocked her head and peered up at the groundskeeper, but didn’t answer.

“Well, no matter. I’ll get them up ter th’ Sortin’ in half a mo’,” he said, waving as Harry and the other second years made their way to the carriages. Harry was unsurprised that he could clearly see the thestrals harnessed to them. The four of them piled into the large carriage with a good bit of room left over. Soon they were moving up the road toward the Hogwarts gates.

The Great Hall was just as Harry remembered it. He made sure his Occlumency shields were up before he looked toward the high table. Professor Snape was sitting next to Gilderoy Lockhart. The latter was gaily chatting away, seemingly unaware that the potion master looked like he really wanted a vial of poison. Professor Dumbledore’s eyes met Harry’s for a moment, but the only reaction was a small nod. The absence of a Legilimency attempt was a hopeful sign, so Harry returned the nod.

When they sat down, Harry made sure they left a space between himself and Ron, as well as between Hermione and Neville. He waved hello to Seamus and Dean, but he doubtlessly appeared distracted to anyone who knew him. He didn’t think the Sorting Hat would double-cross him, but beginnings are such delicate things.

Neville was quiet, but Hermione was obviously concerned as she stared across the table, her eyes flickering between Harry and Ron. Harry grunted and turned toward Ron. “It puts her anywhere else; I say we use it to start a bonfire.”

Ron looked puzzled for just a split second, then a slow grin spread over his face and he nodded.

Hermione looked scandalized for a moment before she started laughing out loud. She smothered her mirth at a disapproving glare from Professor McGonagall, who was just getting up, apparently to fetch the first years to be sorted. Neville settled for a quiet grin.

Soon the new students were marched into the hall and Professor McGonagall paused while the Sorting Hat burst into song.

The hall is lit with candles tall.

The year, it has turned.

The leaves are changing, soon to fall.

The students have returned.

New faces peer, full of fright.

How shall we sort you out?

Time to choose, get it right

I’ll see smiles, nary a pout.

Fair Ravenclaw, a clever lot,

Have minds honed and sharp.

Those Slytherin have clever plots,

Tuned to ambition, played like a harp.

Oh Hufflepuff, steadfast and true

They never carp, hard workers all.

Gryffindor, the courageous few-

Against their foes, they never fall.

As a thinking cap, I am no fool.

I’ll see your place, your proper nook.

The founder’s helper, Godric’s tool,

Put me on, I’ll have a look.

The assembled students burst into applause, even the Slytherins. Harry supposed they wanted to be polite or else they might not get any new students this term. As Professor McGonagall began calling out the names of the students to be sorted, Harry reflected that sitting here beat the heck out of getting battered to death by the Whomping Willow.

Of course there were a few snags, when Creevey, Colin, made a bee line for the empty seat next to Harry, he and Ron had to politely explain that they were saving it for Ron’s little sister.

“Lovegood, Luna,” McGonagall called out. The blond girl walked up to the stool in a very matter-of-fact manner and carefully placed the hat on her head. She sat there for over a minute before the hat said “Gryffindor” in a less than enthusiastic manner.

Ignoring the isolated muttering, Hermione waved the girl over to the seat next to her. Her enthusiasm was completely unfeigned, and Harry had to hide an overly proud smile.

Ginny was one of the last to be sorted, but the hat barely touched her hair before it announced “Gryffindor” in a loud voice. Harry joined in with her brothers and clapped until his hands were quite numb.

When the blushing red-head sat down between Harry and her brother, the Boy Who Lived let out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. That’s another step done, he thought. We’re all here together. Hermione was whispering to Luna as the sorting concluded. Harry remembered his friend mentioning once that she hadn’t had any real friends before she came to Hogwarts, and he wondered if she felt especially sorry for Luna after seeing her being picked on.

Dumbledore stood. “And so we begin another year at Hogwarts! But first, a few words before our meal. Autarchy, Diaspora, and Quizzical! Now let us eat!”

With that, the platters before them were filled with food and Harry’s stomach let out a low growling noise. Ginny muffled a snort as Harry speared a slab of roast beef on his fork. Last year’s feast had followed the rather lean portions at the Dursleys, so he hadn’t been able to properly enjoy it. Harry frowned as he loaded up his plate. Goldfarb’s last letter indicated that Uncle Vernon had been sacked and charged with embezzlement by Grunnings. He was shed of his worthless relatives, and they were just beginning to pay for what they’d done. Still, his thoughts stumbled over them at odd moments, stirring up old bitterness.

Luna watched her neighbours load down their plates with food. “I read a story that the Hogwarts kitchens test out addictive food additives designed to make people overeat in restaurants. Looks like that one is certainly true.”

Neville, the only person that didn’t have his mouth full, laughed. “No, we work it off every morning. Harry’s got us all doing martial arts and fitness training. I used to be dead clumsy and now I only trip half as often.”

“And then only when you walk by the Slytherins, mate,” Ron said after swallowing.

“You want to join us?” Harry asked carefully. Now that he saw an opening, he hoped to seal the deal. “Ginny has started working with us as well, so you won’t be the only new girl.”

Luna stared at Harry long enough to make him wonder if he’d said something wrong. Finally, she nodded. “I’d like that,” she said and began eating.

The feast proceeded without further incident. By the time dessert was served, Harry was definitely feeling groggy. 

Once the dessert was cleared away, Dumbledore stood and the Great Hall immediately quieted down. “Very good,” he said cheerfully, his voice nonetheless filling the hall. “Now that we are all replete from this excellent dinner, I have one more announcement. Joining us to fill the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is the extremely well known Gilderoy Lockhart.”

There was scattered applause, mostly from the witches, following that announcement. With a grin that displayed an inordinate number of teeth, the man gave a jaunty wave in response. Next to him, Professor Snape grimaced, his upper lip showing a definite curl.

“I’m sure you will all show him a very warm welcome,” Dumbledore continued, his eyes twinkling. Harry wondered if the headmaster knew what an awful fraud he’d hired, or if he just didn’t have any other options.

After another chaotic rendition of the school song – one sure to qualify as a lyrical felony in most jurisdictions, they were finally dismissed to seek their beds.

Harry was full and dozy as they followed Percy to the Gryffindor tower. He barely registered the glares coming from some of the Slytherins. He tried to memorize the password, ‘wattlebird’, as they trooped into the common room. Harry was tempted to warm himself by the fire, but he knew he’d probably fall asleep down here if he did. After making sure everyone knew to get up two hours early for practice, he made his way up to the dormitory. He managed to change into his pyjamas before falling asleep.

Harry woke up thrashing wildly, knocking the covers to the floor. It took him a long moment to realize he was at Hogwarts, and not inside a collapsing house in Devon. That had been a particularly close call. He still had no idea how the Death Eaters had located them, but they were damned lucky Hermione had spotted them before they stepped out the back door. As it was, the three of them managed to return fire from behind cover, instead of being cut down in an ambush. Unfortunately, as Ron stunned the last one, a stray Reducto curse collapsed the back wall of the kitchen, bringing down a section of the roof. Hermione and Ron managed to step back in time, but Harry was knocked out and pinned under the rubble. He awoke as they were digging him out, but with his arm and both legs trapped it was hard not to panic. Recognizing his distress, Hermione held his hand and stroked his face while Ron cleared away the boards and pieces of siding. He was covered with cuts and bruises when they were done, but the terror of being trapped and helpless stayed with him even longer.

By the time he got his breathing back under control, Harry was quite thoroughly awake. He sat up and put on his dressing gown. He started to dig quill and parchment out of his trunk before he remembered that Ginny was here at Hogwarts this year. No need for letters. The clock showed that he had at least two hours before everyone else would be getting up for practice, so he selected a book on mid-level healing charms and went down to the common room. 

Harry was surprised to find anyone in the common room at this hour, let alone Ginny. She was sleeping half-reclined on the couch, with her head resting on the arm. He stared at her for a moment, then took a blanket off the back of the couch and tucked her in. He paid special attention to her feet, remembering her complaints about how cold they got while she slept. That done, he picked an armchair near the fire and settled down with his book.

When it was nearly time for the morning run, Harry closed his book and stood up, stretching. He nudged Ginny until her eyes opened, whereupon she sat up so suddenly that they almost knocked heads together.

“Oh, Harry, I, er…”

“Had trouble sleeping?” he asked.

She nodded, her face quite red. She rubbed at her eyes and blinked owlishly.

“Happens to me all the time,” Harry assured her. “Is this your first time sleeping away from home?”

“Nearly.”

“Then I’d be surprised if you didn’t have trouble. It’s almost time to go run, and I’d appreciate it if you could make sure Luna was up as well.”

Ginny eyed him speculatively. “Is she going to be joining us for the - other practices as well?”

Harry put on a thoughtful frown. “I suppose that might be a good idea.”

Harry remembered that Ginny was never one to beat around the bush when she wanted to know something. “Why?” she asked.

“Well, from what you described, she’s a good person, but she’s going to have a rough go of it here if she doesn’t have some people looking out for her. The only problem I see is in classes, since you two will be separated from the rest of us. In that case it’ll be up to you to watch out for her.”

Ginny’s swallowed. “I’ll do that,” she said firmly. She surprised Harry by giving him a quick hug and then dashing up the stairs to her dormitory.

Half an hour later they were all trotting out of the entrance hall and onto the grounds. Harry kept the pace reasonable so Luna could keep up. Nonetheless, her fair complexion was beet red half-way through. Neville, of all people, dropped back as she began to lag and talked to her as she slowed.

“I had a rough time when we first started,” he said, puffing a bit. “It gets easier after you do it for a while.”

Luna nodded, too out of breath to reply.

After everyone was warmed up, they began doing some stretches, with Harry and Ginny showing Luna how. After that, Harry spent the rest of the physical practice time working with Luna on basic stances and blocks.

After the first hour, they all sat down around a large tree near the lake. Harry explained how Hermione had figured out that the potions professor was using Legilimency on students, and then went over the basics of Occlumency. Everyone else focused on the meditation exercises. Neville had returned Harry’s Occlumency book, so he offered to loan it to Luna, on condition that she didn’t let other people see her reading it.

“We’re trying to keep this as quiet as possible until we know how he’s going to react,” Harry explained.

Neville grunted. “He’s a complete bastard,” he said without opening his eyes. “If he knew exactly what book we were learning this from, he’d probably try to get it confiscated.”

“If we fought it, he’d have a little trouble explaining why he doesn’t want us learning Occlumency,” Harry disagreed.

“He’d find a way,” Neville spat bitterly.

Of all the changes in his friends, Harry was most surprised by the ones in Neville. The regular exercise was changing the chubby, round-faced boy into a stocky block of muscle. Harry was ashamed at how little encouragement had actually been required to make such a huge change in the boy’s self-confidence. Their conversation regarding their parents on the boat to the Sorting Ceremony had started the boy on an entirely different path. If Harry had made any sort of effort the first time around, he could have made a huge difference.

Neville’s most significant change was regarding the potions professor that horribly intimidated him in another life. Watching Snape’s relentless badgering of Harry infuriated the boy, and there were a few times Harry wouldn’t have been surprised to see Neville whip out his wand and hex the man.

Harry received two surprises when he began checking his friends’ defences: Neville’s shields were almost as good as Hermione’s, for all that he’d been practicing the shortest amount of time and her the longest. The second shock was when Harry tested Luna to see if she had any natural resistance to Legilimency. He was able to penetrate her mind with little difficulty, but the bewildering welter of images and associations he found inside was almost overwhelming. Intrigued, Harry stayed longer than he normally would have. It wasn’t like he was invading her privacy – the only thing he could pick up was a steadily worsening headache.

Well that’s… interesting, he mused. This may work out better than I thought it would.

Harry’s headache was just fading as they headed inside to shower and change for breakfast. Their morning meal was noticeably calmer without a Howler from Mrs. Weasley, though Harry did wonder what Dobby was getting himself up to since he wasn’t trying to ‘save’ Harry.

He smiled warmly at Professor McGonagall when she handed him his class schedule. It probably disconcerted her, but it was hard for him to take her stern persona seriously… not after the way she’d ripped into Umbridge on his behalf in his prior life.

Soon they split up. Ginny and Luna had charms first period, while the rest of them were off to Herbology.

Professor Sprout was noticeably cheerier, what with not having to bandage the Whomping Willow with Lockhart’s less than stellar advice. She greeted them warmly as they joined the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students assembling in front of the greenhouses. Once everyone was there, she led them to greenhouse number three. This locked outbuilding housed some of the more dangerous plants covered in the second year curriculum.

Harry smiled when Neville’s hand shot up before Hermione’s when Professor Sprout asked about the properties of Mandrakes.

“Mandrake is used to brew extremely powerful restoratives. Mandrake distillations are the active ingredient in many potions used to reverse transfigurations and curses. In addition to its uses as an antidote, it’s also dead useful for eliminating common pests in the greenhouse.”

Professor Sprout frowned. “How so, Mr. Longbottom?”

“Well, I keep some in pots in the centre of my greenhouse at home. Once a week I put on some earmuffs and pull one up for a minute. The cry of the mandrake is fatal to anything that can hear it, so most household pests immediately snuff it.”

“Well done, Mr, Longbottom!” Professor Sprout beamed. “That’s an ingenious use for what many consider to be a liability of cultivating Mandrake. Thirty points to Gryffindor! Neville is correct about the Mandrake’s cry. While these are only seedlings we’re repotting today, their cry can at least knock you out. So make sure you get those earmuffs on tight!” Some of the Hufflepuffs looked a little disgruntled at the generous award their head of house had given to a Gryffindor, but none of them raised their hands, so it was their own fault.

Harry wasn’t as surprised by the squalling-baby appearance of the uprooted Mandrake this time, though it was still disturbing. He just hoped they didn’t need to be brewing mandrake restoratives this year.

With the four of them working together, they didn’t end up grouping with Justin Finch-Fletchley. Harry wondered about that, but didn’t see how that would hurt anything in the new timeline. With the diary locked away, the Muggle-born student wouldn’t be attacked this time around.

By the end of the class they were still filthy and sweaty from stuffing uncooperative, muddy, fat babies into their new pots. Harry really wanted a shower, but he barely had time to wash his face and hands before they had to be in transfiguration.

Professor McGonagall’s class was more a free-for-all than Herbology, where Neville was the clear expert. Hermione was usually first with the answers, but not always. Surprisingly, Ron even beat them all once. Hermione’s pleased grin made the red-head’s ears turn pink, and Harry wondered how much he’d studied over the summer.

By the end of the class, they were all competing to see who could transfigure a beetle into the most elaborate button. Professor McGonagall came over to see why they needed so many beetles, but just shook her head when she saw the results of the button-making contest.

Lunch was fairly quiet, though Ginny was laughing about their first charms lecture. She thought Professor Flitwick was terribly cute. Hermione was scandalized at the implied disrespect, and she was all set to chastise Ginny about it when Luna chimed in.

“Ginny, it isn’t nice to laugh about someone who was victimized by green-winged fump-gizers,” Luna said in her characteristic dead-pan drawl.

That pretty much stopped Hermione in her tracks. “Green-winged whats?”

“Fump-gizers. They love to attack small children and drain away all their potential for growth. I’d say Professor Flitwick ran into a whole nest of them, and at an early age too, more’s the pity. They must have stolen every inch he had coming to him. It’s quite tragic. But if they bite an adult, nothing happens, since they’ve already got all the height they’re going to get.”

“Do you think Hagrid could have used some of those growing up?” Ron asked Harry in a low voice.

“That… that’s preposterous!’ Hermione sputtered.

Luna just looked at Hermione with no expression on her face. After nearly a minute the older girl was starting to shift uncomfortably on the seat. When Luna spoke, there was no rancour in her voice, just a solemn curiosity. “You sound like our Muggle neighbours who don’t believe in magic. Why is that?”

Hermione almost flinched back, but didn’t say anything. She looked almost confused, and then she peered very intently at the blond first-year. Almost as soon as their eyes met, Hermione flinched back. She shook her head, rubbing at her eyes. “I’ve never heard of any sort of Fump-gizers, Luna, and they aren’t in Scamander’s guide. Where did you read about those?”

“There was an article about them in the Quibbler. I think I can get you the issue if you’d like.”

Hermione nodded slowly, still rubbing her temples.

When they finished eating, Ron suggested they go out to the courtyard for some fresh air before their next class. As they left the Great Hall, Harry hung back until he was walking next to Hermione, who was still frowning.

“You tried to use Legilimency on Luna,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

Hermione nodded cautiously. “Something very odd happened.”

“I know. Happened to me at practice. Either she’s a genius or a functional schizophrenic. Either way she’s difficult to read.”

“Do you think she’s… all right, Harry?”

“She seems okay on the outside. She may just be one of those people like Einstein – can’t do Algebra, can’t balance a chequebook, but turns around and helps create the special theory of relativity.”

“You mean that’s how her mind actually works?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, I think it is,” Harry answered. “Just working with you lot, I know each of you has a slightly different feel. Hers is just different – a lot different.”

“I see.” Hermione had looking thoughtful down to an art form. 

Harry had one more thing for her to think about though. “You know, I don’t think we should be using Legilimency on our friends, outside of practice.”

Hermione did not blush easily, but once she actually was embarrassed her face went solid red every time. “I suppose that isn’t very ethical, is it.”

“No, I think we should limit non-consensual snooping to known enemies. I would appreciate it if you would make a habit of assessing everyone’s shields next time we practice,” Harry said.

“I thought you were picking up Legilimency fairly quickly,” Hermione said.

“I am,” Harry said with a pause.  “I’d like to have a second observer. I wonder sometimes if the sense of who is trying to probe your mind can impact how effective your Occlumency is.”

“That’s not a bad idea, Harry, I’ll do it next time we practice - just maybe not with Luna,” she said with a small smile.

He returned her smile and they eased past what could have been an awkward conversation. Harry remembered how often the three of them used to fight, and how trivial the reasons usually were. A good bit of it was his fault too, given how awkward he was and how easily he flew off the handle about some things. Burying all of the people he loved gave Harry a new perspective on things, and a lot more tolerance for their little quirks.

It wasn’t until they were already out in the courtyard that Harry remembered a rather embarrassing conversation with Colin Creevey. Just like last time the junior stalker edged forward with his camera and started badgering Harry about taking a picture of him. Harry purposefully misunderstood him and gathered his friends for a group shot of all six of them. They looked at him a little oddly, but the frantic plea in Harry’s eyes forestalled any questions - though Ginny and Hermione looked mildly amused.

 After Colin snapped the picture, he of course did the worst possible thing. “Um, H-Harry, could you sign it for me? So I can send it to my Dad?”

“Signed photos? You’re giving out signed photos, Potter?” Draco sneered. Besides his skill with nasty bits of magic he had no business knowing, the Malfoy heir was a positive genius at saying things in as insulting a manner as possible. “Everyone line up!” he roared, “Harry Potter’s giving out signed photos!”

“Sorry, everyone, Malfoy is having delusions again,” Harry called out. He kept his voice light, even though he could feel his face getting hot. “The family syphilis appears to be rotting his brains early,” he spat.

About half the crowd got the implications of that last remark, which made their eyes widen. Fortunately, Draco was sufficiently versed in the seamier aspects of life to understand the insult. Of course, his father was a Death Eater, and he’d probably picked up a thing or two in the course of his ‘recreational activities’. Harry just ignored Hermione’s elbow, no matter how much she dug it into his side.

“Potter, you lying half-blood,” Draco snarled. Crabbe and Goyle were right behind him, and Parkinson, Bulstrode, Nott, and Zabini were close by. “I heard-”

“You heard Colin ask me to sign a photo he took, something which I am not inclined to do, so shut your trap,” Harry said firmly.

Colin looked so furious he was about to cry. Maybe he thought he’d have got his autograph if Draco hadn’t said anything. “Shut up Malfay,” Colin said, “you’re just jealous.”

“It’s Malfoy, you ignorant little Mudblood. And I don’t think having a huge scar on my head makes me special, unlike Potter and his little crew.”

“Just like having a father rich enough to buy his way out of Azkaban doesn’t make you special, either, Draco.”

“Envious, Potter?” Draco asked with a sneer. Something about the boy’s expression bothered Harry.

“No, because after you’ve spent all your inherited money, you’ll still be a useless parasite,” Harry snapped.

“What’s all this? What’s all this?” Professor Lockhart said as he strode toward Harry, his turquoise robes swirling around him. “Who’s giving out signed photos? Besides me, that is?” He chuckled at his own quip.

Harry started to step back but the man reached out and grabbed Harry’s shoulder and pulled him in against his side. “Come now, Mr. Creevey, you can get a picture of both us and we’ll sign it. Can’t do much better than that, can we?”

Harry debated breaking the man’s instep, but instead he simply ducked down and dropped from the man’s arm. He let himself somersault backward and rose to his feet in one smooth motion. Colin got a good picture of a rather confused Professor Lockhart staring down at his left armpit. Later that night Harry would trade Colin two pictures of himself for that one of Lockhart. The man hardly ever took a picture that was less than perfect so just owning it was a petty form of revenge.

Lockhart turned around and saw Harry standing behind him. He reached forward, but seemed to reconsider. “Come with me, please, Harry. We have something to discuss before class.”

Harry gave his friends a disgusted look, but Hermione and Neville just shrugged. Ron was still glaring at Draco and fingering his wand. Harry really hoped a fire-fight didn’t break out when he wasn’t there to join in. He noticed Ginny was standing slightly in front of Luna, shielding her from the Slytherins. Harry felt an odd surge of pride, but he hoped she knew some kind of blocking spell.

Lockhart quick-marched him to the Defence classroom. “A word to the wise, Harry,” he said as he opened the door. “I was trying to cover for you out there. If both of us sign a picture for the lad, it doesn’t look quite so bad; Otherwise, at this stage in your career, handing out autographed photos like that… it looks a bit big-headed you know?”

Harry sighed and made a sincere effort to reign in his temper. “Did you listen to anything I said out there?” he said sharply. “I wasn’t signing any photos of me. Colin took a photo of about half the Gryffindor second-years and Draco Malfoy tried to make a big deal out of it. I have absolutely no interest in cultivating my ‘fame’ as such. I got this scar the night my parents were murdered, so I hope you’ll understand if I consider it less than a blessing.”

“Oh Harry,” Lockhart said with a quiet laugh and laid his hand on Harry’s shoulder in a disquietingly familiar manner. “You are so naïve it’s almost painful. We can only make do with what we are given. You have a scar gained in a most spectacular manner. I have devastatingly good looks, unmatched magical skills, and unquestioned literary talents. It’s all about getting as much as you can with the gifts you have.”

“The gifts… you do know that your predecessor was possessed by Voldemort and tried to kill me, right?” Harry asked.

“Harry… into each life a little rain must fall. Do you know how many young witches have tried to break into my flat?” Lockhart asked rhetorically.  “Some of them were not so young, either.” He finished the last sentence with a shudder.

Harry stared at the professor. This man is not even speaking the same language I am.  

“I understand if you were feeling a little out of sorts at the bookstore,” Lockhart said in a grand manner. “Part of being a celebrity is knowing how to react when life throws these little opportunities our way. I can help you there. And your pull added to mine, throw in all the cachet of Hogwarts nostalgia and a warm student-teacher bond, and we can make weekly headlines. I wouldn’t be surprised if we were invited to functions every weekend until end of term. Wouldn’t that be grand?”

Harry blinked and said the first thing that popped into his mind. “I’d have some trouble getting all my homework and revision done if I’m gone all weekend.”

“Oh tosh, Harry, I’m talking about something important here! I’m talking about our picture on the front page once a week, maybe even twice!”

“You know,” Harry replied sarcastically as he tried to gather his wits, “It’s refreshing to meet a professor who isn’t all hung up on academics.” The magnitude of the man’s gall was awe-inspiring.

Professor Lockhart smiled ruefully. “The position was mine for the asking, since no one wants to risk that so-called curse. Besides, it’s not like this is really an important class, is it? Most students will never need to use what they learn in here anyway. Those that do, well, they aren’t going to be complaining, now are they?”

Harry felt his faint smile pull into a grimace. Okay, you negligent son of a bitch. You’ve got to go, the sooner the better.

“You don’t need to give me an answer now, Harry,” Lockhart said with a paternal smile. “Just think about it. We can do great things for each other, great things.” Harry was suddenly reminded of Ollivander, talking about his wand. It was just about as comfortable a memory too.

Students began filing into the room and Harry went to sit with his friends. Hermione seemed to frown when she saw his face, so he supposed that horrible grimace was still there. He had a strong urge to ask to be excused so he could go take a shower.

Harry dutifully filled out Lockhart’s exercise in ego-gratification he called a quiz. It’ll be easier to get him sacked if he doesn’t suspect anything, he reasoned. Maybe I should just aim for something more general, like just ‘get rid of him’, and see what opportunities arise.

The Defence professor’s speech about how his job was to ‘arm them against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind!’ fell a little flat in Harry’s ears when he recalled the man’s earlier words. Apparently that twinkle in his eye was from sarcastic amusement, or perhaps satisfaction in his own acting skills. The man was just as much a superficial fake as the Dursleys, and just as poisonous in his own way. He’ll willingly send his students out into the world without any real idea of how to handle things… he’ll send them out like sheep to the slaughter.

Maybe we can show people how to do it right, he mused.

When Lockhart unleashed the Cornish pixies, Harry’s wand was already in his hand. “Back to back,” he barked to his friends, “stunners only or we’ll be all night cleaning up the mess.” They immediately jumped up from their seats and formed a ring.

As the pixies began to trash the classroom, Harry and his friends began casting. They’d gone over the stunning spell right before summer break. His friends were definitely good enough with it to knock out something as small as a pixie. Arranged as they were, no matter what direction they were dive-bombed from, there was a wizard or witch with a wand at the ready. Harry and Hermione were the most accurate, dropping a pixie with every cast. Ron and Neville weren’t far behind, and their follow-ups always found the target. Harry made a point of not targeting the pixies attacking Lockhart until after they’d taken his wand and chased him under his desk.

Seamus and Dean were having a harder time of it, especially after Seamus had a full ink bottle emptied over his head, staining his sandy hair black. Lavender and Parvati were under their own desks in less than a minute.

The remaining pixies began to recognize the threat posed by the four standing Gryffindors and began concentrating on them. They were all shot out of the air until the remaining three dived at Harry all at once. He managed to catch two with Stupefy spells as they flew towards his face and in desperation back-fisted the third.

The last pixie arced across the classroom with a high-pitched wail. Lockhart evidently heard the reduction in pixie cries and decided it was safe to get out from under his desk. That was how he ended up getting a black eye from a flying pixie and fell back down with a small scream.

Harry just wished he’d had Colin’s camera to immortalize the moment.

~+~

Ginny was howling by the time Ron finished describing their first Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Harry discreetly put his hand behind her back as she started to fall off the bench, and other people eating dinner were staring at them. Dean and Seamus were noticeably less amused, mostly because the latter still had a huge black blot in his hair. All in all, the four of them had garnered a good bit of respect from their classmates.

Hermione was rather quiet about the whole thing, though she didn’t stop them as Ron and Neville told the other girls about the whole debacle. She picked at her food after they finished and finally spoke up. “I wonder if he did that on purpose,” she said.

“What do you mean, on purpose?” Ron asked.

“Like some sort of psychological exercise, to see how we react in an unexpected situation.”

“If that’s the case,” Neville said, grinning, “I think we nailed it, eh, Harry?”

“I will fear no pixie!” Harry said in a deep voice, raising his chin. Unfortunately, no one got his Admiral Nelson impression. He snorted. “Seriously,” he said in a quieter voice, “we had a little chat before class that was quite illuminating.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.

“Later,” he mouthed, and immediately changed the subject. “So how did you two like your first transfiguration class.”

Ginny began describing the first class, including McGonagall’s startling Animagus transformation. Luna was quiet for the most part, though she did wonder aloud how long their head of house could remain a cat without being subject to hair balls. That little comment earned her a dirty look from Hermione after Ron choked on his pumpkin juice and sprayed a little across the table. Luna gave Hermione a bland smile and handed her a napkin.

After dinner, the six of them retired to the Gryffindor common room to continue their discussion. They settled in a quiet corner and Harry repeated the conversation verbatim. With as many secrets as he had to keep from them, Harry tried to make up for it by being scrupulously honest and open on any matters unrelated to his future knowledge. When he was done he turned to Hermione. “That’s why I don’t think today’s class was a put up job. He really is a fraud.”

The bushy-haired girl didn’t disagree with him, but she did seem upset. “I suppose I was a bit of an idiot then,” she said ruefully.

“Bollocks,” Ron snapped, making her turn toward him sharply. “That smarmy git has fooled tons of people, Mum included. She’s bought all his books and thinks Dumbledore was lucky to hire him.”

Hermione’s face had a startled expression, but she didn’t chide Ron for his language. Instead she gave him a warm smile that left him looking rather confused.

++++++++++++++

Author Notes:

Hmmm… over ten thousand words to cover two days. But a lot did happen.

In case anyone was wondering, I’m not a Gilderoy Lockhart fan.

 Thanks for reading!

-Matthew

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