The Great Hall was abuzz as Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way to the Gryffindor table, lugging their books and parchments with them. Divinations had been an absolute nightmare once again, with Trelawney spewing nonsense over another of Harry's "deaths" and running out of the room bawling her eyes out.

Not that it bothered the students at this point. In their fifth year, they learned that it was going to happen at one point, all the attention being turned on Harry. No big deal. Ron was already grabbing for food before they even sat down, saue from a leg of barbecued chicken dripping down his arm.

"So, did you guys hear?" Fred and George grinned mischieviously, leaning forward on their elbows. Lights from the candles on the chandeliers glinted on the polished wood of the tables. Harry shook his head, reaching for a buttered blueberry muffin. Hermione scoffed, eyeing the teacher's table with a particularly disgusted look etched into her features.

"What?" she asked, forcing herself to look away from the staff table, back to her friends.

"About Malfoy," Fred hinted, his eyes darting to the Slytherin table. The others followed, eyeing the boy with suspicion.

Slicking back his blond hair, Draco Malfoy was talking rather loudly, although among the clatter, it was hard to make out what he was saying. His cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, were congratulating him, patting him on the back and such. rather disgusting, was Harry's opinion.

Licking her lips, Hermione asked, "What about him?" The twins rolled their eyes, chuckling to themselves. Harry noticed her eyeing the tray of muffins he had just taken from and gently pushed it over to her. Greedily she snatched two off the plate, licking butter from her fingers.

"There's a rumor…" George trailed, eyeing his brother, "Wouldn't you say so, Fred?" Fred nodded in agreement, drumming his fingers on the table.

"I suppose, but I dont know how important it is to address, eh, George?"

Hermione scowled. She was quite impatient when people wouldn't get straight to the point, Harry knew. For some odd reason, his gaze flew to the staff table. McGonagall was having a pleasant chat with Hagrid (most likely about Hippogriffs, for they decided to be added to the curriculum this year)

That, or whomever she had seen sitting at the staff table really annoyed her for some reason.

"Just spit it out!" she complained, drumming her fingers on the table, "We don't have all day!" Angrily, she chomped on one of her muffins, crumbs spewing everywhere.

"Alright, geez!" Fred giggled, "Why so angry?" Hermione rolled her eyes at them, swallowing hard as she gave Harry a side-long glance. Harry gulped, clearing his throat.

He knew why.

Elves. Specifically the ones residing in Hogwarts. Despite having tried to help free them during their third or fourth year (he couldn't really remember, seeing as he was busy fighting dementors and participating in the Tri-Wizard Tournament at the time). All the elves, it seemed, had no desire to rid themselves of their duties at Hogwarts, a fact that simply disheartened the poor witch. But elves were elves, Harry supposed. And if the elves wanted to serve other people, who was he to stop them?

"I heard that Malfoy and his family got a new House Elf," Fred said with finality, his words echoed by the slam of a bronze cup- Neville had just finished taking a sip, liquid sloshing over the side as he put it down. Hermione raised an eyebrow at the twins, a warning gleam in her eyes.

"But they just let go of Dobby," Hermione reminded them, taking another bite of her muffin. Melted butter dripped down her chin, and Harry did everything he could not to sneak her a napkin.

"Won't matter to the Malfoys," the twins shrugged, "besides, pureblood families have a tendency to go through house elves left and right anyway." Hermione sighed, wiping her chin with her sleeve. The twins had a point; it was customary for all pureblood wizarding families to have a house elf, and it was not uncommon to have multiple elves to go through within a year or so.

Ghosts and poltergeists wandered the air of the Great Hall, the chatter amongst the students dying down as they recollected themselves at the staff's table. The Headmaster Dumbledore- and old man with long purple robes and an even longer beard- cleared his throat, standing to greet them.

"Welcome back, and for those of you joining us anew, simply welcome," he stated, his voice booming in the cavernous room. Harry felt the reverbations deep in his gut, like a bassline on an electric guitar playing through an amp. Everyone turned their attention to the Headmaster, eagerly listening as he explained the rules, both old and new, of Hogwarts, introducing the familiar staff members once again.

"And this year, I would like to introduce-"

"Hmm-mmm."

Everyone quieted to focus on a rather stout, toadish woman in a frilly pink cardigan and matching skirt. Her brown hair was curled up to her chin, and the smile plastered on her face looked ill.

Even worse: she spoke up.

"It's lovely to be so kindly introduced, Headmaster," the woman's eyes crinkled as she grinned at the students, "and with such happy faces looking up at me! I'm sure it will be wonderful to teach you this year, required the Ministry sets proper mandates on teh education of young wizards and witches such as yourselves-"

Thankfully, Dumbledore cut her off, "Madame Dolores Umbridge of the Ministry of Magic, here to fill the position of Defense Against The Dark Arts." Clearing his throat, he went on, ignoring the abashed look on her face, "Now, before you finish your meal and go off to bed, I have a few words I would like to say- and here they are…"

Silence befell the students as they sat on the edge of their seats. Dumbledore's words were different every year, always a surprise as they were strangely odd and were not to be found in a dictionary (of the Muggle kind, at least.) Glancing at the teachers seated besides he Headmaster, Harry noticed they all were giving Dolores Umbridge wary, if not menacing, glances. Snape himself looked absolutely livid, ready to snap the thin stem of the goblet he drank from.

"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" Dumbledore announced, "May your year be fruitful and have a good evening!"

Chairs scraped against the floor as the students filed out of the dining hall, Ron trying to snag as many chocolate candies as he could before receiving a stern look from Nearly-Headless Nick (who unfortunately was trying to fit his head back on as best he could after Peeves lopped it off once more. Harry thought the ghost was lucky- if his head were truly cut off, he would probably leave it out in the gutter.)

Hermione seemed to be fuming, however, stomping out of the hall with Harry and Ron in tow. In the hall, a chill spread through the open concept area, between the pillars of stone that held the ceiling over their heads. Students bumbled into one another, trying to meet friends and prefects, make their way to the dormitories and avoid a few of the more suspicious looking ghosts that resided in the castle. From far away, Harry heard a portrait singing, another student laughing at a spell cast on some poor soul who got caught in the middle of it.

"Hermione, ow!" Ron cried as Hermione grabbed their arms, dragging them behind her.

"Sorry, Ronald, I just-" Hermione began to apologize as Ron snatched his arm away, muttering about how "I almost dropped my chocolates thanks to you!"

Harry rolled his eyes. No use in beating around the bush.

"Do you actually believe that Malfoy got a new house elf, Hermione?" Harry asked, exasperated by the look of utter confusion on her face.

"Well? Wouldn't you?" Hermione nearly whined, "After all, the Malfoys are one of the richest, snobbiest-"

"Hermione-"

"-wealthiest, stuck-up families at Hogwarts!" Hermione wrung her hands, her fingers flying towards her hair. It was a nervous habit Hermione had sometimes, Harry noticed, playing with her hair.

"But you hate Draco," Ron pointed out.

"And? If a new elf is in the care of his household, who knows the horrors the poor creature will be subjected to?!" Hermione cried, "Honestly, Ronald!"

"What?!" Ron protested, "I'm sorry the lives of elves don't really interest me, 'Mione!"

"How about we just wait to see if it's true first?" Harry interjected. Hermione sighed.

"Alright, alright.." Hermione said, calming herself down, "But still-"

"Ah!" Ron chastised her, and Harry found it kind of funny, how Ron was the one calming Hermione down. They had miraulously made it through the pack of students to the Gryffindor Common Room, and Harry was about to give the password to the portrait (which depicted the fat Sir Cadogan lying under a tree- seriously? Where was the Fat Lady?) when a nasally yell pierced his ears.

"Oi, Potter! Still hanging around riffraff, I see."

Glaring, Harry whirled his head around to look at Draco Malfoy. His blond hair was slicked back like usual, and Harry hoped his green and silver tie was tied just a little too tight around his neck, as the boy's face was red with glee. His two buffoons for friends cackled and hissed at the trio, jumping when Malfoy held up a hand to silence them.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry nearly spit the name out in disgust. Draco feigned a look of innocence, shrugging his shoulders.

"I merely want to know how your summer went is all," Draco mocked politeness, "It must have been terrible if you spent it with those idiots again." Hermione groaned as Ron rolled his eyes. That summer the three of them had stayed at the Weasley house, dodging tricks and practicing Quidditch. Every so often they had visited Sirius and Remus, who had taken up residence in the Black family mansion, although Harry thought the house itself was riving his godfather a little more mad than usual.

Overall it had been a pleasant summer.

"Why would you care, Malfoy?" Ron growled at him, ears tinged pink, "You probably just want to gloat about all your fancy new toys you got anyway."

Malfoy shrugged, and Harry wanted to whip out his wand and slap that silly smirk off the kid's face right there and then. That's how mad he got just standing in Draco's general vicinity.

But with Hermione's stern glare, he settled for clenching his hands into fists as Draco nonchalantly looked at his nails, saying:

"Well, I guess you've already heard about my new toys, Potter. Too bad your friends can't afford one." A sharp gasp flew from Hermione's throat- so it was true!
"I'll have you know-" she began, charging at him angrily, only to jump back at the sudden appearance of Crabbe and Goyle in their shield-like mannerisms.

"Can it, half-breed," Draco snarled at her, and Harry noticed her eyes fall flat.

"Don't be rude, Malfoy!" Ron yelled.

Draco simply scoffed, turning on his heel. His black robes flew behind him as he strode towards the Slytherin dormitories, chuckling at whatever stupid thing Crabbe or Goyle had said. Turning back to Hermione, both boys saw she had tears forming in her eyes.

"Don't listen to him, Hermione," Ron said, clapping a hand on her shoulder, "he's a bloody git-"

"I know, I'm sorry," she cut him off, sniffling softly, "I shouldn't have blown up like that."

"Well, in your defense, you actually care about others, unlike him," Harry encouraged, "I mean, who else would make an attempt to brighten the future for all house-elves? Certainly not him, that's for sure."

Hermione cracked a grin, drying her eyes, "Well, now that that's all said and done, we should be off to bed, no?"

For the rest of the night, Harry heard Ron toss and turn in his bed, the Fat Lady making a poor attempt at breaking a champagne glass with that "wondrous" singing voice he was so familiar with.