It was early September; the train would soon be arriving. Minerva stood at the gates looking over her beloved school; she grimaced. She had a knowing feeling that despite the clear sunny skies that shined above, the year would be anything but cheery. A younger looking, tan woman, dressed in bright colors stood next to her. Seeming to notice the older woman's expression she sighed.
"Come on Minerva, it's a new ye'r. A better ye'r," she emphasized," Let's leave the trouble of the past there, in the past!"
The older woman's expression lightened a bit as she spoke, "you're absolutely right Aida. Let's go, there is still much to do before they arrive."
"Of course," Aida smiled as they began to walk to the doors that waited before them.
.
Meanwhile on the Hogwarts Express Hermione was adjusting her Head Girl badge for the umpteenth time since she put her robes on only minutes ago.
"Ginny do you think Hogwarts is going to be fully repaired?"
The redhead pulled her gaze from the window. "I don't think any amount of magic could restore it completely, especially after the battle."
"Well, you never do know" said a voice being muffled by the door to the compartment.
Hermione opened the door to the compartment. "Luna you can't be so naïve to believe that the last years can just be forgotten. Can you?" The blonde sat and thought for a moment, before replying in an airy voice.
"I don't see it as being naïve but rather… hopeful. We don't need to forget it but we do need to move on from it."
"She's right 'Mione, if we don't move forward we'll be stuck in this rut all our lives which I don't see as the best solution."
The three girls all shared a small smile, seeming to agree to move forward this school year. Soon beginning to discuss the new possibilities the year will bring.
.
In another compartment further down the train sat a boy with pale bond hair, struggling to accept the same conclusion.
Seeing the boy's contorted face, a Slytherin named Blaise Zabini spoke. "Draco, mind telling me why your face looks like you were hit by a slug-eating hex?" Draco glared back at the tan boy and remained silent. "Is it what your mum said before you got on the train?"
At this the boy turned as pale as the hair on his head. He wondered if he should trust his best friend with such information and if so how to word it. Fortunately his thoughts were interrupted by the train's whistle blowing, signaling their arrival to the infamous school.
A giant or should I say half-giant man stood in the middle of a sea of children, giving directions and corralling all the new, small children. All the students, having already gone through this process a hundred times went onto the carriages that would take them to their repaired school.
Back in the great hall everyone sat as in silence as an elderly women withered by war approached the podium. She looked out over the students, new and old. The older ones were heavily masked with stoic faces, dark circles and scars. She frowned a bit realizing how much the war had truly aged them. Snapping out of it, she plastered on a smile. She couldn't think about it now.
"Students it is my greatest pleasure to welcome you to Hogwarts, you may call me Professor McGonagall. I will be taking over Professor Dumbledore's place as Headmaster. "At the reminder of their former headmaster's death everyone's face sunk. How could they forget the strange, cheery, wise old man that led them the past years?
The headmaster spoke "I guess it's fitting before I continue, that I thank all of you who helped in the war. It's thanks to you that we could all be here today. But I ask one thing of you."
All the students began to murmur questions, and held curious glances. What now?
"Please leave all prejudices, pain, and regrets behind. Let this year be a new beginning, for new friendships and new experiences." The students began to clap and nod in agreement before McGonagall continued, "thank you. Now we have some new staff members this year as well as some former ones teaching."
The headmaster continued the introductions, then sorting, before finally coming to an end and instructing each house to follow their prefect back to their common room.
Hermione walked up to Professor McGonagall to ask where the head dorms would be.
"Ah of course Ms. Granger, I nearly forgot! Come follow me." The headmaster said as she led Hermione to a room at the very end of the eighth floor.
The painting bore a woman that wore a golden dress and placed silver stars into her own sky.
McGonagall cleared her throat, "hello Irene, the password is 'nettogroft sap'." The door opened revealing a huge common room.
There were pearl white walls with a mixture of silver and gold accents. Two long windows were placed on opposite sides of the room and were delicately shaped by soft royal blue curtains. On the back wall, two staircases were separated by an enormous bookshelf. Hermione thought it was as if someone had read her mind. However there was one question that seemed to bug her.
"Professor," the curious Head Girl asked, "Who is the Head Boy? "Has he arrived yet?"
"Well you see Ms. Granger; the original Head boy has declined the position so I have been hastily searching for his replacement." McGonagall saw Hermione tense up and begin to wring her hands, "Rest assured Ms. Granger it had nothing to do with you. His replacement will be here tomorrow, in the meantime get some sleep."
Hermione sighed in relief. After the two witches said their goodbyes Hermione walked up the left staircase for a well-deserved rest.
McGonagall was back in her office pacing as a witch in bright colors stood beside her leaning on a desk.
"Minerva, relax just because the Hufflepuff refused to be head boy doesn't mean you have to create a hole in the floor." Aida said, giggling at the elderly witch's worry.
"I would think it would be quite reasonable, seeing as he and Longbottom has declined, and that I haven't picked anyone to take the place! Everyone has been a remarkable help in the war, but there isn't a boy that I think would uplift the houses or create a sense of unity among any of them."
Aida pursed her lips, and tapped a random paperweight against her head.
"I've been watching the returning 7th years and have taken a curiosity to one of them. I think he'll be perfect for your Head Boy, and if anyone has been affected the most by the war it's him." A smirked graced her face as she finished, "I believe his name was Draco".
Professor McGonagall's eyes grew wide. However after a few minutes of the witch mulling it over her face returned to normal.
"Alright it might not have been my number one choice, but he does fit the criteria." Aida clasped her hands and began to squeal in excitement "Let's hope that this works, all I want for the future of Hogwarts is for the past rivalries to be forgotten."
Before the war, the Malfoy name was highly respected. However if anyone were to look at the once arrogant prat that is the heir of that name, they would be thoroughly confused. How could this shell of a man, have once been thought so highly of? The paled haired boy trudged the Hogwarts halls with slumped shoulders, sticking to the shadows, in hopes of barely being noticed.
His plans failed as the Headmistress stopped him in the halls. "Mr. Malfoy please come with me back to my office, we have much to discuss".
Other than his raised brow, he kept a stoic look. "Mind telling what we're discussing Professor?" he asked but was left unanswered seeing as the Headmistress was already down the hall. He quickened his pace and the two finally arrived.
"Please Sit." He picked a comfortable looking red chair opposite of her as she continued.
"You see every year we have a Head Boy and Head Girl; this year both of the original Head Boys I had offered the position to have declined. You have been recommended by one of our new staff. I think you're a fine choice; it will help boost your house's name and house unity while we're at it." She stated, waiting for his reply with a small grin.
"Professor I don't want to be Head Boy." As these words left Draco's mouth McGonagall's expression shifted faster than the seconds on a clock.
"And why not?"
"I hardly think I'm as worthy as Potter or Weasel bee- ehem Wesley would be. Hell anyone would be better, even Longbottom!"
"Mr. Malfoy you can't-
"Seamus, Dean, any of the Golden Gryffindor's' would –
"I understand that you may think that but-
Draco was giving his famous smirk tenfold by now; he might as well have some fun in this rut. "Hell the Bloody Barron or that ghastly cat that roams Hogwarts would be just-
" CAN YOU WOULD KINDLY SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND STOP YOUR REMARKS SO I MAY CONTINUE?" At this Draco stopped, and began staring at the upset Professor, waiting for her to continue.
"Thank you," she murmured "now as I was saying I understand that you might not be ideal choice for obvious reasons, but it has come to my attention that this would be an excellent chance for your house –and you as well—to diminish the dark reputation." Draco raised an eyebrow at this.
"Malfoy once you leave here you're on your own. You can always seek my guidance, but you will be left to repair the damage you're name has brought. What better way than to fix your relationship with your peers? Perhaps be seen as a leader? "She inquired.
Draco drummed his nails against his lap, and considered everything that the old witch had said. She had made a valid point; if he ever wanted to be considered a decent wizard, he only had one choice. "Fine," he said reluctantly, "I'll be the Head Boy."
"Fantastic! Now here's a bag of all the things you'll need, along with the password to your room. It's at the end of the eighth floor can't miss it." Draco meekly accepted the bag and headed back towards the halls.
It was just about noon, so Draco decided to skip lunch in the great hall and check out his new living quarters. After saying the password, Draco climbed through the portrait and surveyed his new home. It was certainly bigger than the typical common room. His favorite part would be the small fire place stuck in the corner, surrounded by a sofa and arm chairs. He had admired the book case that stood on the back wall; it would make any Ravenclaw squeal. He took a guess and walked up the left staircase to what he hoped would be his bedroom.
It was a mahogany door with a Golden "H", curiously, he opened the door. It was completely decorated in pictures of the Golden Trio, newspaper articles with different Hogwarts events in the past 7 years, and several muggle objects scattered about. He wondered what stalker or fan would have this much of the trip scattered in the room. Then, it hit him.
Just like that he bolted out of her room and shut the door in the blink of an eye; he could slap himself for being so daft. After hastily running up the other staircase, he found all his stuff had already been sent and put the bag down. He grabbed his school supplies and headed to his next class.
As soon as Hermione entered the class she was met with clouds of green and pink. As she coughed she began to hear trumpets, and then realized it was muggle Jazz music. It seemed…chaotic yet… exciting. Gasps and giggles and other students came in, began to harmonize with the music. It gave off an air of the Wesley's Joke Shop. Once everyone was seated a beautiful tan woman, who looked to be in her late twenties, stood at the front and silenced the commotion.
"Hello class!" She exclaimed, with a hint of an accent no one could really place. "My name is Professor Zimbaya" as she spoke her name, the words took form in purple smoke above her head. "Now I realize you lot have been through a lot; death, destruction, depression all of that horrible stuff," her tone seemed to change into a more somber than before. "I'm not saying it's easy to just move on, but I'm hoping to give you a place where we can focus on something differ'nt something more fun…potions."
Despite the silence, everyone's mind was running wild.
Her tone went back to easy going with quickness. "We'll be making an airborne gas commonly known as giggle gas. It's somewhat of an anesthetic. Since you're all seventh years; the ingredients are on your tables, the instructions on the board, and so on. I'll play some music and you lot get started!" Jazz music played once again, and soon after, the teens relaxed.
Hermione was the first one to finish. Professor Z walked up to Hermione's cauldron and examined its content. It was mist-like purple liquid just like the book said. "Does it work?" the professor asked with a smile playing on her face.
"I assume it would I followed the book's instructions exactly as told."
"Of course, but does it work?" Hermione was confused, she did the potion correctly, that she was sure. "Let's test it!" Hermione gasped as the professor flicked her wand at the potion and the purple mist filled the air.
Not soon after Ginny busted out laughing, then Dean, then Neville, even some of the Slytherins began laughing. Soon the class was filled with different laughs and giggles.
"Ms. Granger, I think you put too much giggle juice in your potion and not enough Caribbean calming petals." The Professor wheezed. "Not to worry it should wear off soon. We only have five minutes left. Class dismissed!" The students cheered and began stumbling out of the classroom into the hallways.
Sneak Peek at next Chapter:
"She's mad! Doesn't she know that we can't possibly be near each other? Why didn't you decline?" Hermione screeched.
"I did at first," his voice grew quieter at each word. "Now, now I just can't."
