A/N: another update, sorry for the delay. From now on the chapters will probably come once a week. I've got work, and soon school will be starting again. This chapter took forever because I was racking my brain trying to come up with the sorting hat's song. Anyway, thanks for the feed back and the watches. I appreciate them immensely.
A familiar voice was calling over the din of the students as they thronged off of and around the train after pulling into Hogsmeade station. "Hagrid!" shouted Harry pushing his way through the crowd towards the hulking form of the half-giant. Next thing he knew, Harry was being swept up in a bone-crushing hug.
"Harry m'boy," cried Hagrid, only releasing him when he heard Harry start to splutter and cough for air. "It's so good ter see yah again Harry," one of Hagrid's large hands clapped over Harry's shoulder and a few misty tears seemed to be gathering in his eyes. "My, my, but I got a job ter do. I'll see yeh at the feast Harry." Hagrid turned away cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting "First years! Over hear, first years!"
There were few amongst the students who couldn't see the thestrals this year. Yet another grim reminder of the events of the previous year. But there were still the second year students who saw the "horseless" carriages and marveled at the fact that they were pulling themselves.
It was that bit of whimsy and wonder, brought about by the younger students, that helped their seniors relax a bit and return to some of the original feel of Hogwarts' mystery and wonder.
The ride towards the castle, from Hogsmeade, was more silent than usual. Each of them quietly wondering to themselves what this last year at Hogwarts would have in store for them, and Harry silently praying that everything would be quiet, calm, and absolutely normal.
Please gawk at my appearance
Sit and stare at my stains
But when it's time to sort you
I am the one who reigns
Many generations have I seen
Many students have I sorted
and If you seek a place at Hogwarts
Then here is what I must report
You may be sent to join with Gryffindor
The house in which bravery does abound
Though they may lack in judgement
They always stand their ground
Or perhaps you're meant for Hufflepuff
Of whom loyalty is the staple
Sometimes misplaced can be their trust
But they're unwavering and they're able
Should you be meant for Ravenclaw
Then you have a knack for intellect
Your true allegiance, as of yet unknown
From you great things we can expect
Or are you of the blood of Slytherin
The house where live the sly
By many assumed to be worthless and dark
In them does mystery lie
Now come right up and take your place
Get your name amongst the rest
Begin a new year at Hogwarts
For some it will be your best
As the sorting hat's song ended, there was uproarious applause that filled the hall all the way up to the enchanted night sky that twinkled on its ceiling. The line of first years was lead in by the tiny professor Flitwick, and each of them sent up, one by one, to receive their house assignment.
As this was taking place, it was a rather bored Ron that let his gaze wander away from the sorting and towards the table where the professors were sitting on either side of professor McGonagall. The Weasley boy sat for several minutes in confused silence and then turned, tugged on Hermoine's sleeve and pointed towards the table.
"Who do you suppose those two are?" he asked indicating a pair of new faces that sat on either side of Hagrid.
"New teachers I suppose," whispered Hermoine. "That one on Hagrid's left is definitely Jewel, the woman that showed up at the burrow. The other woman...I'm not sure, I've never seen her before."
"Which one do you suppose got the defense against dark arts job?" whispered Neville, leaning across the table.
"I hope it's not Jewel," said Harry quickly becoming involved in the conversation, "I'd hate for something to happen to my mum's best friend."
"For the last time," Hermoine sounded exasperated. "The job isn't cursed."
"Every person that's had that job hasn't lasted more than one year," said Ron. "Even you've got to admit Hermoine, that's more than just a coincidence."
"There's a reasonable explanation for everything," she maintained, "you honestly have nothing to worry about."
"Ahem," the voice came from the front of the room where professor McGonagall stood to address the students. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts School of WitchCraft and Wizardry. I am your headmistress, Professor Minerva McGonagall. There is, waiting for your consumption, a delightful meal prepared by loving hands ("enslaved hands," muttered Hermoine). But before we can proceed with that there are a few things that I would like to address.
"Our groundskeeper, Argus Filch, would like me to remind you all the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and ALL of their products are banned from the school premises. Any student caught with said items will be given detention, to be determined by the staff member that catches you.
"As usual, the Forbidden Forest is completely off limits to students, unless serving a detention or under the direct supervision of a staff member.
"I would also like everyone to welcome our two newest staff members. To the left of our own Rubeus Hagrid, we have Jewel Drake who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Victoria Hawthorn who will be instructing your transfiguration lessons.
"I'd also like to note that our flying instructor, and quidditch referee, Madam Hooch, will be taking over as the housemaster for Gryffindor," there were hisses of displeasure from the Slytherin section of the hall, and shouts of approval from the Gryffindors on the other end.
"Madam Hooch has assured me that her judgement will be impartial, as it always is when it comes to Quidditch. But, in an effort to balance things out a bit, we've selected Blaise Zabini, from Slytherin, to be the new announcer." The hisses died away and were replaced with a murmur of approval, while the Gryffindors sat in disinterest, all that mattered to them was that they had the referee on their side.
"I believe I've covered everything...Oh, there will be ministry appointed Aurors around main entrances of the grounds, and they will be present at any large gatherings. They will not be interfering with us, and I should like to remind you all to keep out of their way. They're here to do a job, and any distraction from you is not to be tolerated. The Aurors do have the authority to take you directly to the nearest teacher for punishment if you're caught doing anything you shouldn't."
McGonagall let her words sink in for several moments before smiling and drawing her wand. "Now that I've talked quite long enough, why don't you all enjoy your meal?" Flicking her wand, a moment later the four house tables were overloaded with scrumptious food of all kinds. As the delicious aroma filled the air, the students settled in to eat.
"Well what did you think?" asked Ron as he and Harry were in the room that they shared with Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Neville Longbottom.
"Think about what?" asked Neville. "It was all rather mundane really," he shrugged his shoulders as he donned his night shirt.
"Everything seems a bit off after what last year was like," said Seamus. "You lot weren't here, but the whole place seemed to have gone quite mad."
"I'd have rather been here than skulking across the countryside," said Dean. "I'll tell you, there were DeathEaters everywhere."
"But everything's back to normal now," said Harry sitting on his bed and staring out the window as a flash of lightening split across the sky. "This year will be just like our first. No. Better. Because this year is our last at Hogwarts, the last chance that we get to live as kids and really get the most out of the school year."
The sound of rain pattering against the window pane was the only one that filled the room as the five boys remained in silence. Until Ron began digging through his trunk and located a box of chocolate frogs. "Anyone want one?"
"Double Potions, this time with Ravenclaw, at 8 o'clock. Then at ten is Transfiguration, then at eleven Ancient Runes for me, which breaks at Eleven-thirty for the lunch hour, and finishes at twelve-thirty. Then from one-thirty to two-thirty is is defense against the dark arts, with Slytherin. And lastly is Herbology, with Hufflepuff, from two-thirty to three-thirty, and that switches off with Charms every other day," Hermoine read off the list as she Harry and Ron sat at the breakfast table in the dining hall.
"Lunch hour? Hermoine, that sounds like two hours," commented Ron grabbing the list and reading it over.
"You two will have a two hour break because you both have one free slot," she said quickly. "I'll be taking Arithmacy and Muggle Studies every other day during that hour."
"You have too many classes as usual Hermoine," said Ron shaking his head. "Honestly, you're going to burn yourself out."
"I've been doing this for seven years Ron," said Hermoine snatching back the schedule and tucking it neatly into her back with the rest of her books. "Now let's go, it's nearly time for Potions."
"What annoys me," said Harry as they clambered to their feet and began to walk the familiar path from the dining hall to the potions class, "is that we have to take Defense Against the Dark arts with Slytherin of all houses."
"Oh honestly Harry," said Hermoine. "You of all people should be aware that not all Slytherin's are necessarily evil. I mean, look at Malfoy. You even told me that Mrs. Malfoy lied, to none other than Voldemort himself, and kept you alive."
"Yes but," Harry hesitated unsure of where he was going with his thoughts. "I just don't think Malfoy is the kind of person that's going to turn over a new leaf like that. I'm not going to expect any kind of miraculous change, or for him to even so much as say 'hello' to me."
"We'll see," said Hermoine.
"Alright welcome to your NEWTs level potions class," Professor Horace Slughorn stood at the front of the class and eyed the group of students before him. "I requested, that the Headmistresses no longer require Slytherin and Gryffindor to take potions together, I've discovered that far too many fouled potions are due to the fact that there's so much bad blood between the houses."
He pulled out his wand and tapped the edge of the cauldron that sat boiling before him. "Within this pot is a rather odd little potion much used by those that are involved in the daily care of dragons. Mr. Weasley," he turned and looked at Ron. "I do believe you have a brother who works with dragons in Romania?"
"Yeah my brother Charlie," replied Ron already dreading what he believed would be the next question.
"Do you think you can identify this potion for us?" asked Slughorn.
"Well..."
Hermoine had already sniffed at the air and was holding her hand aloft begging to be called upon, while Ron continued to struggle with his answer.
"There are a lot of different potions involved with caring for dragons," said Ron who was trying to stall and glean his answer from another source. "Like...there's ones for burns, and some for cuts, or other sorts of injuries that come from working with dragons."
Hermoine squirmed slightly and probably would've elbowed Ron had Harry not been in the way.
"Though I believe, from the strong scent," said Ron sniffing the air and catching a whiff of an odor not unlike a sweaty pair of shoes and vanilla, "That this particular potion is meant to be used on the dragons themselves," he sniffed again. "No, actually I do remember this one now. Charlie reeked of it when he came home for to visit not long after going to Romania." Ron looked excited at the fact that he actually knew something. "It's a potion for young dragons that are just getting their scales, to help ease the pain and make them more docile. Charlie said that they become extremely aggressive when they're in pain, so they make this potion and give it to them. Because of they way a dragon's nose is built, they only smell, and taste, the vanilla."
"Correct, ten points for Gryffindor," said Slughorn as an exasperated Hermoine let her hand fall to her lap, but smiled over at Ron in silent congratulations. "Now I'll award you another five house points if you can tell me the name of the potion."
"Um, it was something like..." Ron scratched his head for a moment and tried desperately to remember the name of the potion.
"Vulcanus Contentus," blurted Hermoine unable to bite back her tongue any longer. "It's the potion form of a spell by the same name. Both are rather tricky to use, and the spell can only be cast by a wizard who knows the exact anatomy of a dragon, and where exactly to concentrate the spells power to relieve the pain."
"That is indeed Correct, Miss Granger, however I cannot award interruption in my class, so there will be no house points awarded," said Slughorn very smoothly and with his same signature smile. "However, I'm sure you can make up for that in this following lesson."
Turning his back to the class he tapped a piece of chalk with the tip of his wand and gestured to the calk board on the wall behind him, the chalk busily began to scrawl out the ingredients and directions for this lesson's potion. "Today we'll each be brewing a flask of Vulcanus Contentus. The dragon caretakers society is rather under supplied due to the fact that the majority of potion makers had their stores raided or destroyed during the brief time that the dark lord was in power. They have requested that I brew, and bottle, as much of this potion as is possible and send it to them for their use." He paused and looked back at the class, "Then I recalled that I would have a NEWTs level potions class to teach, and thought that it would be the perfect opportunity for to hone your skills.
"Any ingredients not in your potions kits can be found in the storeroom as you well know. I believe the only item that you'll need from there is a few pinches of Essence of Grindylow. Remember, follow the directions to the letter. This is a tricky potion and if you have any doubts then raise your hand immediately. Now you may begin," said Slughorn with a grin.
Hermoine's eyes flickered over the chalkboard incredulously. "How can he expect us to brew this?" she muttered as she cracked open her potions kit and began pulling out lacewing flies, valerian roots, sopohorous leaves, peppermint, pufferfish-eyes, and half a vanilla bean.
"Aguamenti," muttered Harry holding his wand over his cauldron. A jet of water burst out, filling the cauldron and nearly overflowing it onto the work table. Other students, who were carrying, levitating, or dragging their cauldrons over to fill them with water, eyed Harry curiously. Some of them rolling their eyes, a few of them attempting to copy his actions.
"Good job Harry," came Slughorn's approving tone. "Five points for ingenuity."
Several minutes later the room was full of the sound cauldrons starting to simmer over low fires, and students busily cutting, crushing, and grinding their ingredients into correct proportions, adding, stirring, and trying their best to follow the directions accordingly.
"Hermoine?" Ron's voice was quavering slightly as he reached around and tapped her on the shoulder. "What do you suppose that is?" His potion, which should've been a soft golden-brown, was nearly black with a silvery white wisp that wafted through the center of it and eventually formed into a row of jagged teeth, grinning hungrily upwards.
"You're water wasn't hot enough when you added the essence of grindylow," muttered Hermoine. "It needs to be hot enough to kill any spirit of grindylow that's still alive," Hermoine prodded the fire under Ron's cauldron with her wand, using a non-verbal spell to coax the flames to burn hotter.
Minutes later, a few bubbles broke the surface of as the potion began to boil, the black and silver dissipated and then disappeared altogether, and was replaced by the same soft-golden brown that was bubbling happily in Hermoine's cauldron.
Several other students weren't as lucky as Ron was though. The grinning teeth were joined by a head, which eventually rose above the surface of the potion where the rest of the grindylow's body continued to form. Normally they were amphibious creatures, but these appeared a ghosts, or spirits that wafted through the air menacing the students and sweeping low over the cauldrons seemingly trying to coax the other grindylow out.
"I was wondering if this would happen," muttered Slughorn. "Students, this can easily be remedied with a simple stunning hex. Anything to break their connection with the corporeal world." He turned to a Grindylow that was whizzing past him and flicked his wand "Stupefy!" the bolt of red hit the insubstantial creature and a moment later it wavered and disappeared. The grinning face reappeared back in the cauldron of one of the nearby students. "Now, hurry and heat your potion up to the point where it kills off the spirit of the grindylow before it can escape again."
All over the room shouts of "Stupefy!" were being uttered as students attempted to recapture the spirits that had escaped from their potions. Of course this took time, and there were instances of other students getting hit with misfired hexes. With all of five minutes left to class, all of the grindylow had been reclaimed and sufficiently subdued.
Slughorn wandered between the rows of students, examining their potions and adding nods of approval. "Alright," he said as he returned to the front of the classroom. "You all seem to have successfully completed the first part of this potion. However, there are three parts, all of which must be brewed separately and then brewed together in a fourth and final step. The entire process will take several months, because each of the individual potions will have to age before they can be mixed. Please bottle a flask of what you have, label it with your name, and turn it in to me before you leave. I'll store them until they are needed again."
"Don't you think it's odd that until now, every potion we've made can be used on humans," said Ron as they filed up with the rest of the students to turn in their flasks.
"Well, this is a NEWTs level class," said Hermoine. "Of course we're going to be doing things we've never done before."
"If you think about it, it kinda makes sense," said Harry. "This is the kind of thing that someone would need to know if they were going into a job like Charlie's."
"I know, it just seemed odd that's all," said Ron. "You'd think that if their were potions for other creatures that we'd have made more of them by now."
"Not at all," came Slughorn's voice and the three looked up to realize that they were at the front of the line. Walking up and setting their flasks on his desk Slughorn grinned at them all. "Potions for creatures, and even non-humans, are all extremely complicated and require a knowledge of the ingredients. Like Miss Granger today knowing that Essence of Grindylow needing to have the life scalded out of it. Because Dragons are such large powerful creatures they require powerful (and sometimes dangerous) ingredients. Same with things like unicorns, thestrals, giants, and centaurs. There's a whole separate branch of potions called ZooPotionology. One which you may consider for your future careers." With that he gestured for them to move off and allow the next students to approach the desk.
As they left the dungeon Hermoine pulled out the schedule from her pocket. "What's next?" asked Ron peering over her shoulder.
"Transfiguration, with that new professor Victoria Hawthorn," said Hermoine putting tucking the list away again. "I hope she's at least half as good as Professor McGonagall."
A silky haired golden retriever sat at the front of the classroom, a large pink ribbon tied around its neck with a bow sitting prominently behind its head. Everything about it was long and lean and graceful, and bright blue eyes glittered brightly out from the long slender face. "I believe this is our professor," said Hermoine as she entered the room near the head of the group of students. "It would make sense that she's an animagus." Hermoine slid into a seat and began digging through her books.
"Yes it would make sense," agreed a young blonde girl that appeared to be a first year student. "However, that's not the case in this situation." The girl began to stride confidently towards the front of the room, golden curls bouncing around her shoulders as she paused by the dog and scratched its head. "This is Flamel named after, of course, the well known Nicholas Flamel." She grinned as she circled around behind the desk and looked at each of the students, all of whom looked bewildered at the sight of a first year student pretending to be their professor. Not only was she in the wrong class, but she was also taking several extremely high risks.
"Little Girl, you're going to get yourself into trouble," said Hermoine quite sternly as she rose from her seat.
"Oh dear," said the girl as she dropped into the professor's chair. "You lot are absolutely no fun at all. The first year students this morning actually got quite a laugh out of my antics." She rolled her eyes, "But I suppose you're all 'too old' for such nonsense." Clicking her tongue against her teeth and shaking her head, she clambered onto the desk and stood in front of the class. "Alright, I'll stop, but allow me one last bit of fun." She drew her wand, despite loud protestations from Hermoine, and promptly tapped herself twice on the head.
There was a flash and cloud of smoke encircled her, and as it died away it left behind what was easily the same little girl if she'd aged about twenty years. "Now that I've gotten all of your attention, and discovered that you're all a lot of gits with no sense of fun, I'd like to introduce myself. I'm Victoria Hawthorn," she smiled and hopped easily to the floor. "I'll be your transfiguration instructor for the rest of this year, and as it is your final year we must prepare you for your Nearly Exhausting Wizarding Tests, that will be taking place in June."
She flashed a smile at them all and leaned against the desk. "Now, you're all Gryffindors correct? Well I'm a Slytherin, well was, but don't worry about a thing. I'm more interested in getting a good laugh than I am in revenge and house loyalty and all that rot. So you can relax around me, and hopefully we'll be having quite a lot of fun this year."
The room was so silent you could've heard a pin drop, everyone seemed momentarily overwhelmed by the well-groomed, well-dressed, former Slytherin that stood before them. She cleared her throat and moved to stand behind the desk, touching the dog's head as she walked passed him. "As I said before, this is Flamel," Professor Hawthorn turned to observe the students yet again. "He has been my closest friend for a very long time, and he will be helping me keep an eye on you all."
A bright smile crossed her face as she held her wand aloft, "Why don't we begin with a bit of transfiguration to help break the ice here, alright? I want all of you to transfigure your desks into a dog, and use Flamel here as your example. There's a bit of technique involved here, and as you've had such a skilled instructor for the past six years I feel that I only have to focus on your technique, the rest of what I'm asking you to do should be instinctual by now. The words are quite simple and can be altered to fit whatever you're trying to transfigure an object into. It simply goes...objectus formarin canis."
Hermoine was amongst the first to rise and stand beside her desk then turn to face it. Ron, and Harry quickly joined her and soon everyone was beginning to cast the spell upon their desks. Several desks sprouted hair, or tails, one began barking rather loudly. Still more had the back end of a dog but not the front, or the other way around. There were a few with a dog's legs, and a few that were dog shaped but retained the wooden desk look. Hermoine's was the only one that remained unchanged, her mouth was still shut tightly, and her eyes were closed.
"Looks like Hermoine's gone and fallen asleep," said Ron looking over at Harry who was struggling to complete the transformation of his desk which was growling at him.
"Objectus formarin canis," said Hermoine slowly and deliberately as she tapped her desk. It warped, bent, skewed, and otherwise transfigured itself around until it had formed an almost perfect replica of Flamel.
"Very good," called Victoria from the front of the class. "Everyone transfigure your desks back with a simple 'formarin retarus.'"
As soon as the desks had returned to their original forms Victoria spoke again. "Quite simply, Miss...Hermoine Granger I believe it is, was able to succeed because she took time to visualize her object and how it would have to change in order to become a canine. Now, visualization is key, but if you were in a situation where you needed to transfigure something quickly then visualization isn't practical. During your NEWTs you will be timed on how quickly and effectively you can transfigure the object you are given. The key to doing this transfiguring your object into something simple, before reshaping it into what you'd been asked to create. By using simple objects, you can make complex transfigurations that much more simple."
Throughout the rest of the class, the number of errors steadily dwindled. Hermoine was reprimanded several times for taking far too long and not bothering to use the simple in between steps that Victoria had suggested. Quite surprisingly, by the end of the lesson, it was Neville that had managed to impress Victoria the most by first transforming his desk into a copy of his gran's furry footstool, and then using then continuing to transform it into a dog. It was clear that Neville's confidence had improved from everything that they'd been through, and that this new confidence in himself was improving his abilities with magic.
"Alright everyone, that's it for today. Please return your desks to their normal state, and I expect you all to be able to perform this task in under two minutes by the end of the week," said Victoria with a bit of a grin as she reached down to pat Flamel's head. The golden retriever's tail wagged happily as he rose and followed each of the students from the class, giving Neville an approving lick on the hand, before returning to his master's side.
"I'd never thought of doing it that way before," commented Ron as he and Harry walked with Hermoine towards the Ancient Runes class room. "I wonder why McGonagall never taught us that trick."
"Because it's a crutch," said Hermoine sourly. "Real, talented, wizards are able to perform transformations like that without any in between steps. Breaking it down like that is the way that beginners do it. Forcing us to do it that way is a rather poor teaching method."
"Maybe she's trying to settle us into it," suggested Harry. "You've got to admit, jumping from a desk to a dog is a big leap. But maybe she's just trying to get us to think about the in between stages automatically. Besides, Neville did extremely well...I think she's trying to make it so that we're all prepared for these tests, not just the few that will get the hang of it naturally."
"Whatever she's doing," said Hermoine still not willing to relinquish her dislike of the new Professor, "I still don't like her methods, at all."
They reached the door to the Lecture Hall where Ancient Runes was taught and Hermoine bid goodbye to the other two. "We'll see you at lunch," said Harry as Hermoine disappeared inside the room.
"Just between the two of us, I think Hermoine's just not used to getting anything but praise in transfiguration and she can't stand the fact that Professor Hawthorn wouldn't let her do things her way," said Ron as he and Harry made their way towards the library. "I mean, that was the reason why she gave up divination, wasn't it?"
"Yeah," agreed Harry. "I don't think she'll give up on transfiguration though. If she did that she'd only be taking five out of eight classes, which means she'd either try to pick up Care of Magical Creatures or Divination...neither of which she likes very much."
"Speaking of Care of Magical Creatures," said Ron, "We should probably give Hagrid a visit this evening. See how he and his 'little' brother are doing."
Harry nodded in agreement. "I've also been thinking that we should get the Quidditch team together and start talking about our training schedule. We may have to hold tryouts as well, I know there's at least a few vacancies that need to be filled."
"Ah, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, I'm glad I found you," it was Professor McGonagall who approached them from behind and placed a gentle hand on either boy's shoulder. "I have a special request of the two of you."
"What is it professor?" asked Harry turning to face the headmistress, and trying to read her expression.
"Well as you know Hagrid is teach care of magical creatures, well I'm afraid that his class of third years is a bit larger than he had at first anticipated and his subject matter is a bit...volatile at best. I noticed that you both have a vacancy in your schedules, from one-thirty to two-thirty, so I suggested to Hagrid that he take you two on as his aides for this class. To which he agreed. I know how close you are to him, so naturally I assumed you'd be alright with this arrangement," McGonagall looked back and forth between the boys who both looked slightly pale at the prospect.
"He's not raising those...blast-ended-screwts again, is he?" asked Ron rather tentatively.
"No, actually I was quite surprised when he informed me what his plans were for this year. I think you might learn a thing or two from the whole affair," she adjusted her spectacles on the bridge of her nose. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to stop by the kitchens and have a word with the cooks."
Mirai-Gogeta: This story is going to be Canon. Everything should fall right into place and allow for no interruption of the 19-years-later epilogue. However, and I still haven't decided this, I may continue writing once I complete this story and those may or may not be Canon.
Nightwing27: Thanks!
NavyBlueDreamsandKhakithoughts: Hopefully this remains interesting to you! I hope to spice things up a bit in the next chapter.
