He mentally traced out the internal geometry of the carriage. There were two benches, half an inch thick, one on either wall, each about one foot by four, twenty inches above the floor and forty below the curved ceiling; there was a three foot spacing between the benches. He had the right end of the one on the left; to his left was Hermione, with Neville, Ron and Ginny opposite. Hermione had suggested that she and Neville spread out onto different carriages, so that there would be fewer containing no prefects, but he had given her a look combining puppy dog eyes with a deer in headlights, and she had caved immediately.
It was one of the worst possible environments for practising this. There was the expectant silence of four people staring at him, and even though his eyes were shut, he could feel their gazes boring into him. The carriage jolted from the skeletal horses' motion. And Hermione was incredibly distracting. He could feel her radiating excited energy, twitching her foot, hoping to criticise or compliment his technique and go on about minutiae she'd read. His mind sketched out her geometry next: even obscured under Hogwarts' traditional shapeless black robes, he could still see the shape of her body, the sizes and positions of her bones and the fat and muscles and skin over them; he could feel her body heat and smell the patches of sweat behind her chest and the air currents caused by her breath.
He tried to wrench his mind away and focus on Ginny opposite him, but Hermione was right next to him and her presence dominated his focus. Her scent was overpowering. It wasn't acrid, like sweat usually is, but interesting, almost sweet. He'd sometimes thought girls just smelled nicer, particularly after Quidditch sessions, although that was probably largely the fault of the Weasley twins' idiosyncratic ideas on personal hygiene.
The carriage bounced over a stone, and he bumped into the rear wall, shattering his concentration. "This is stupid," he said, rubbing his head.
"No, no!" Hermione said breathlessly, "that was really, really good! Much better than the last few tries. You were defocused; that's the first step to maintaining an Occlumency barrier!"
"My mind wasn't empty," Harry said. "It kept filling with … shapes and sensations."
"Well, it's a mind," Hermione said, "they don't just stay empty, do they?"
"Um," Ron said.
"Good minds don't just stay empty," Hermione amended. "That's why I thought that time in Divination with the crystal balls was bunk. Well, fine, as if I needed another reason; but once you clear your mind, it immediately refills with enhanced sensory perceptions. When you're learning, you need to maintain that sensation. This is like, you know with the Patronus Charm, how you said you first had to produce an incorporeal Patronus?"
"So, it's useless?" Harry asked.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Are you going out of your way to demotivate yourself? It means you can conjure a temporary shield. If Snape or – or anyone else tries to read through that, it'll give you enough time to break eye contact."
"Didn't it take you several minutes with your eyes shut to get into that state?" Ron asked. "As in, you already would have had to break eye contact?"
Hermione huffed. "Obviously, you need to get to the point where you can maintain it permanently," she admitted, "but it's definitely a big improvement, Harry."
Ginny stretched; this Occlumency business was of no real account to her. "What do you suppose the deal was with Professor Grubbly-Plank being at the train?" she asked. "Does that mean Hagrid's left?"
They tried to get a look at his cabin through the carriage windows, but the lights were off.
"He can't have," Harry said.
"When you say can't," Hermione began.
"I'm not just saying it," Harry said, searching for a rationalisation. "He would have told me. Or one of us, or someone."
"Do you think something might have happened to him?" Hermione asked.
Ron gave a snort of impatience. "Are you just going to sit there and list every possible bad thing that might have happened?"
"Are you just going to sit there and ignore what might have?"
"Guys," Harry said dully. His head began throbbing. "Hagrid has a life outside of us. He's probably just having a drink in Hogsmeade."
"And neglecting his duty as gamekeeper?" Hermione asked sceptically.
"Maybe he's off with that Beauxbatons woman," Neville suggested. "I bet he'd ask Professor Grubbly-Plank to sub in for him if he didn't want to reschedule a date."
They took a moment to consider this.
"Moving on swiftly," Ginny said. "Who do you think the Quidditch Captain is this year, now that Wood's graduated?"
"I'd thought it'd be Harry, and that's why he wasn't, you know," Neville said, indicating his prefect badge. "I mean, you've been on the team for three years, you know the ropes."
"Probably one of the girls," Harry said. "They still have seniority."
"I hope we can find a decent replacement Keeper," Ginny said. "Wood's going to be a hard act to follow."
"It'll have to be someone a few years younger," Harry said. "We have four players leaving at the end of this year, Katie the year after, and me after that. We don't want to have a completely green team in a few years."
"Honestly, I always thought Wood was a bit obsessive, keeping those girls all that time," Ginny said.
"Is this because you wanted to make the team two years ago?" Harry asked shrewdly.
"He didn't even have tryouts," Ginny complained.
There was a beat, and everyone turned to Ron, who promptly turned red.
"What?" he asked.
"Normally we couldn't shut you up about Quidditch without a Silencing Charm," Hermione said, "and yet you haven't said a word."
"I just. I sort of thought. It's nothing."
"You want to try out for Keeper?" Ginny asked.
She and Harry exchanged glances, evaluating from their casual games whether he'd make it.
"You'll be great," Harry said with a smile, anticipating training and matches with his best mate.
"You'll be crushed," Ginny said. "We'd better get some practice in before the tryouts."
"Still hopeful?" Harry asked her.
"I managed to scrape together enough gold this summer to buy a proper broom," Ginny said.
"Really?" Harry asked, remembering Malfoy's donation. "What sort?"
"It's a Screech DX," she said. "Second-hand. Not top-of-the-line, sure, but it's still better than those deathtraps they give you for flying class. It might make the difference; I reckon I could match Alicia on it, once I've had a few hours' practice."
"How on Earth did you afford that?" Ron asked.
"By saving all my pocket money," she said, giving Harry a pleading look, "rather than buying lollies from the lady on the train and Honeydukes."
"Oh," Ron said.
"Really?" Hermione said. "Second-hand brooms must be quite cheap, then; I don't think Ron could have spent more than a Galleon or two on sweets over only a few years."
"Er," Ginny said. "I did have to shop around a bit."
"Better watch out, Ron," Harry said, "if she bumps Alicia off, Alicia might try for Keeper."
"Oh, wonderful," Ron said. "I'll never beat her, with three years' experience on the team."
They talked about Quidditch for the rest of the ride. Neville tried to listen in; Hermione got bored after another minute, pulled out her copy of The Standard Book of Spells, and began reading.
Torches lit the way from the front steps through the Entrance Hall to the Great Hall, where hovering candles' light washed over hundreds of students, the ghosts, the tables, and the teachers at the staff table. People from separate Houses gave farewell waves before heading to their respective tables; Su, the half-Chinese girl with the button nose, found Hermione and hugged her, before doing the same for a girl he vaguely recognised from Potions but had steered well clear of because she looked like a female version of Snape. Hermione blushed but waved anyway; Ginny harrumphed.
At the Gryffindor table, Ginny sat with friends from her own year, leaving the other four to sit between Colin and Dennis Creevey (Harry made sure to put Ron and Neville between them and him, as a buffer) and Parvati and Lavender.
"Evening, Hermione," Parvati said. "Had a good summer?"
"Quite good, yes, thank you."
"Must have been fun, with Harry and Ron," Parvati went on.
"And Ron's sister," Lavender added, and both collapsed into giggles; Hermione turned to glare at Ginny. Harry ignored them to scan the staff table: no Hagrid.
"He wouldn't miss the opening feast, surely," Ron said.
Harry lowered his voice. "Didn't you say Dumbledore sent him on a mission over the summer? Maybe he's still on that?"
"Dumbledore wouldn't send him away for so long," Ron replied. "Malfoy will have noticed, and he'll tell his father, who'll tell You-Know-Who."
"I'm not so certain what Dumbledore wouldn't do," Harry said. He searched the staff table and saw him immediately, looking serene and glowing with health. A rush of loathing coursed through him: seeing the smug old man, sitting there, flushed with vitality stolen from –
"Harry," Hermione whispered, touching his arm. He looked down; his silver goblet was in hand and slowly crumpling.
"Penelope," he replied.
"I know, but you mustn't – there are hundreds of people watching-"
"I don't care."
"Harry –"
[Harry, what the hell are you doing?!]
[Are you spying on me?!]
[You're radiating anger like a lighthouse. It's not hard to notice! And if can tell from five hundred miles away, don't you think that just maybe the two skilled Legilimens IN THE ROOM WITH YOU RIGHT NOW might have an inkling?]
[Wouldn't it solve a lot of problems if I just killed Dumbledore here and now?]
[Don't be a fool. You'll never hit him.]
[I reckon I could run up and nail him with a Reductor before anyone reacted.] He saw Hermione looking him over with concern, but she could wait.
[And I think you'd get yourself killed at best, and more likely incapacitated and interrogated, which would compromise Hermione, let him know about that Dark bonanza you gave me, and give him a wealth of other information. After that, you'll be lucky to avoid Azkaban.]
[I don't care.]
[This is why I didn't use Gryffindors as spies during the last war. You don't stand a chance! This is Albus Dumbledore we're talking about. He's charged from the essences of dozens, at a bare minimum, of the best young witches and wizards of their generations. I picked a fight with him once, during the last war; he punted me through a brick wall thirty seconds in, I barely got out alive, and I spent a month in convalescence. This was with the best medical care money can buy, and that was almost twenty years of reinforcing blood sacrifice ago.]
Harry looked down at his goblet again. It was buckled into a rough ellipse, twice as long as wide, but it had at last stabilised. Even Ron had noticed him by now.
[Just sit quiet, shut your eyes, and do your Occlumency meditation. If you do this, I promise, I will take him out, one way or another.]
[I … I don't think I can.]
[Anyone can throw a curse, Harry. The real test of character is when you can master your own nature to do what is right, even when it hurts you. Meditate.]
Harry squeezed his eyes shut, then relaxed them. He sat his hands in his lap, tried to relax, and opened his eyes again.
"Sorry," he said, "I was just … distracted by something."
"This isn't the skeleton horses again, is it?" Ron asked.
"No, it's … I think Snape was trying to Legilimense me."
"I'm not sure that's a word," Hermione said.
"I don't think he can do it from this distance, though," Harry went on, "but he might have a subtler attack. Let me try to defocus again."
He shut his eyes and focused on his breathing. In, out, pause. Parvati had grabbed Lavender's sleeve and was giggling at him; they probably thought he was hallucinating. A few third-years on the other side of the table were taking notice. [Voldemort, is there any sort of Occlumency shield which doesn't make you look like a crackhead?]
[Yes. The more practised one is, the less obvious one's shield. I'm good enough that mine is unnoticeable even to an active Legilimens attack and I can raise it in only a few seconds. You'll get there.]
He couldn't defocus properly, there was too many distractions, but at least with his eyes shut he wasn't under direct attack and he wasn't working himself up into a rage. In, out, pause. Ignore the sniggers, and don't look at the staff table. Eventually it quieted, and there came the clomping of Professor McGonagall's boots as she set the Sorting Hat on its stool. In, out, pause. The Hat began.
Come, listen all, in Hogwarts' open halls,
This hallowed space of learning.
I welcome you to study in our walls.
But, tick tock, the clock's not locked,
To the Houses now you're turning,
And if it's true that you are new,
You'll wonder where to go.
Now I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
You'll don me now, and I will know
But first, some information that
Might interest the discerning.
The first is wily Slytherin,
Of Bas'lisk-rearing fame;
Who takes the clev'rest purebloods in
The patient and those with ambition
Who do all that it takes to win
And make themselves a name.
The second's noble Gryffindor
Who takes the bravest through his door
Who help the poor, and love the meek.
Through hell and fire and often more
Gryffindors will surely seek
To do what's right: protect the weak.
The third is lovely Ravenclaw,
The foremost scholar of the four,
For those who love to search and find
Who love their wisdom and their wit
Whose foremost treasure is the mind
Have found their House, and this is it.
Or else there's always Hufflepuff
Who say you're human, that's enough
Deep down we're really all the same
E'en if you're shy and not so gruff
We're here to learn, that's why we came.
So put me on, and I shall Sort,
But ere you do, a final thought:
United stand, divided fall,
Foes without, within, on high,
Heed my warning, heed my call
You must stand firm, you must unite,
And though the Houses stand apart
Don't separate, and do not fight
And 'ware the trusted, facile lie.
So take that warning well to heart
For now the Sorting's due to start.
Applause broke out throughout the Hall, along with a wave of muttering. This was the first time in memory the Hat had editorialised.
"That sounded like a cross between Snoop Dogg and Dover Beach, structurally," Hermione said, impressed. "Much better than just simple four-line stanzas."
"Dogs don't sing," Parvati said.
Hermione wilted. "He's a musician my sister – you know what, never mind."
"More importantly, since when does the Sorting Hat give advice?" Harry asked.
"Hermione?" Ron asked.
"I've no idea," she said. "I don't remember anything from Hogwarts: A History, and there are surprisingly few books on the Hat in the library. You'd think people would be more interested."
"And it warned against trusted lies?" Ron said. "Who could that be?"
Harry and Hermione exchanged significant looks, and the whispers cut out as McGonagall shot glares down the tables. She read the first name off her student list: "Abercrombie, Euan."
A horrified-looking boy from the middle of the cluster of first-years staggered forward and stuffed the Hat on. It caught on his rather wide ears, thought for half a minute, and shouted: "HUFFLEPUFF!"
"Poor kid," Ron said, clapping anyway.
The line dwindled one by one until finally a Rose Zeller was Sorted into Slytherin. Professor McGonagall collected the Hat and its stool, and Dumbledore stood. Harry immediately looked away, and instead tried to find the new Defence Professor. He scanned the staff table and found Professor Grubbly-Plank in Hagrid's seat, and one empty. She must be late.
"Welcome!" Dumbledore was saying. "Welcome all of you to Hogwarts! I beg a moment of your time for speeches and rules … but not until our marvellous Feast is demolished. Eat up!"
There was a burble of laughter, Harry's eye twitched, and food materialised across the tables. Ron set to with a will.
"Eat up, Harry," he said, indicating a plate of potato wedges that had earned his approval. "What's got you so worked up now?"
"Just Snape again," Hermione said.
Ron looked over; Snape was daintily nibbling at an ear of corn.
"What a git," he said anyway.
Harry served himself some food and began mechanically chewing. [How on Earth do you stand it?]
[I live for the day when I won't have to. For now, can you give me any useful information? Anything different from previous years?]
[I don't see the Defence Professor.]
[She's supposedly one of Fudge's minions, but Lucius says he's never seen her before and only a few obviously-bribed people claim to know her. Snape gave me an overview when they had staff orientation during the summer.]
[She's apparently a double agent for the Order.]
[Also odd, given Snape didn't recognise her. Please let me know if you get any hints about her past. Anything else?]
[The Sorting Hat told us to unify and not listen to trusted people lying to us.]
[Hmm. Perceptive little piece of millinery. I really wish I'd found a way to study it while I was Hogwarts; I'd love to know how Ravenclaw made it sapient.]
[Wasn't it Gryffindor?]
[Pfft.]
[I suppose he did it the same way you did your diary, maybe, except not evil.]
[… If she used the same methods I did, then I'd REALLY like to study it. Hmm …]
[You're not thinking of stealing the Sorting Hat, are you? I think someone might notice.]
[Probably. It's still worth planning, though.]
[It's worth planning for something that will never happen?]
[That will probably never happen,] Voldemort corrected. [I am always outnumbered and surrounded; I need every last gambit at my disposal to have a fighting chance.]
There came the sound of a disturbance, and Harry looked up: one of the side doors was open, and in came what he thought for a moment was another first-year. She was about four feet high and had an odd light-footed gait reminiscent of someone playing hopscotch. Her ears were long and pointed like a goblin's and stuck out from under a hood; her robes were so shapeless and billowy he had only the vaguest idea of her body shape. She pittered up to the staff table and climbed into the vacant Defence seat, and whispered what could only be an apology to Dumbledore. He smiled and waved it aside.
"She's teaching Defence?" Ron asked sceptically. "You could knock her down by closing the paper too fast."
"Don't underestimate her," Hermione said.
"Do you know her?" Parvati asked.
"No. But Fudge wouldn't have sent her if he thought she couldn't take the position," Hermione said.
Harry couldn't do more than pick at his food, and barely managed a slice of treacle tart before it all vanished. Conversations were cut off, as people turned to watch Dumbledore. Harry instead focused on the little elfin woman. She finally took her hood off, revealing short, curly blonde hair; when she wasn't moving around, her robes stopped flying up, revealing her to be slim.
"Now that we have been properly fed, I must detain you from your dormitories for the usual start-of-year praddle," Dumbledore said. Harry felt himself tense up at the feigned geniality of it, shut his eyes, and tried and failed to relax. "First-years should know that the Forbidden Forest is correctly named, and that as there is no Bidden Forest, it is generally wise to avoid the edges of the grounds altogether.
"We have had two additions to staff this year. The first is the returning Professor Grubbly-Plank, who I am pleased to announce shall teach Care of Magical Creatures." In, out, pause. "I am equally pleased to present Professor Morgaine Llywarch, who shall teach Defence Against the Dark Arts."
There was a break for some weak applause. Harry frowned: Dumbledore hadn't mentioned Hagrid at all. So he was trying to draw attention away from him …
"The caretaker, Mr. Filch, has insisted I remind you that magic is forbidden between classes, as are thrown Quaffles, anything bought in or near Zonko's, and a selection of other toys and assorted items and activities, maintained on an inclusive list on his door, which I'm sure everyone shall check.
"For first-years, your prefects shall hold orientation sessions over the weekend; I urge you to attend, as Hogwarts can sometimes prove difficult to navigate for newcomers. They shall go over the rules more thoroughly. I also remind you that first-years are not generally allowed their own broomsticks. For all others, I urge you to take this opportunity to make your new House-mates feel welcome, and to complete any essays you may have overlooked over the summer.
"Quidditch team tryouts will be posted on the notice boards in your common rooms. For all other information, ask your prefects or Heads of House, who will be only too happy to help."
Snape frowned and shook his head forbiddingly, glaring out over Slytherin. For that matter, Malfoy didn't look like the epitome of helpfulness, and Daphne had Dumbledore fixed with an arctic stare.
"And with that taken care of, I declare the Feast concluded. Nighty-night!"
"Harry," Hermione said. "It's over. It's okay."
In, out, pause. "Yeah. Yeah." He pushed his chair out and got up.
"First-years!" Hermione called. "This way, please, this way to Gryffindor Tower!"
"Oh, right," Neville said, then, in an undertone, "Can you lead? I always get lost on Fridays."
A tall black girl pushed through the gathering crowd of first-years to Harry and tapped his shoulder.
"Hi, Angelina," he said.
"Hey, Harry," she said. "Can we talk outside for a bit?"
"Go on ahead," he told his yearmates, and followed Angelina outside and into a secret passage behind a tapestry of Phyllis the Pyromaniac. "So, what's up?"
"Are the papers right?" she asked.
He thought back over the three papers and their patchy, intermittent stories. "Er. About what?"
"Have you been taking C-88," she said impatiently. He stared. "Harry, this is serious! I'm the new Quidditch Captain, and if one of our best players is going to be tripping during practice –"
"You believed that waste of tree? Angelina, we've been on the team together for three years and you haven't seen me so much as drink coffee, and now you're asking me this?"
"It's been more than a year," she replied seriously. "You might have; I mean, everyone who starts, starts sometime, right?"
"No, Angelina, no I have not been taking C-88. Someone spiked my drink at the High Gala; I haven't touched it before or since and I'm not going to."
She sighed in relief. "You have no idea how much that means to me. I mean, I already need to find a replacement for Oliver; I'd hate to have to replace you too. It'll be hard enough beating Slytherin; they still have those Nimbus Two Thousand And Ones."
"And seven players who can't fly," Harry said. "When are we having tryouts?"
"As soon as I can book the pitch. I'll post it on the notice boards and try to find you. Mind you're there; I want the entire team there, to see if the new players fit in, and a second opinion couldn't hurt."
"New players, plural?"
"I'm a fan of having reserves. We've lost games in the past because Wood never had enough."
He thought back to their matches with Hufflepuff in third year, which probably didn't count, and Ravenclaw in first, which did. "Fair point."
"Also … what's with the man-bag?"
… … …
It wasn't until after lunch on Saturday that Harry and Hermione got some time apart from everyone else, in his dorm. He'd been wanting to talk to someone, anyone, about Voldemort since June, and this was his first opportunity.
"So, how did your conversation with him go?" Harry asked.
"It was surreal," Hermione said. "I just got back with some groceries, and he was in our living room with Tess, having tea and describing Hippogriffs for her to draw. Apparently he'd told her he was a friend of mine, and she believed him. I didn't recognise him but he looks rather alarming and I panicked a little, but I couldn't very well leave him with my sister, so I asked him what he wanted, and we talked and he told me about the sacrificial rituals." She shivered. "I keep thinking about our old prefects. Penelope wasn't the only Muggle-born."
He drew her into a hug. "I can't stand the waiting," he said. "Last night, Voldemort told me not to attack Dumbledore, but I don't know if I'll be able to manage for the entire year."
"Voldemort told me about your telepathic link," Hermione said, "but I don't get it. Why would you have that? He supposedly hit you with a stray Killing Curse and used your blood for resurrection; those should link your bodies, not your souls."
"I don't know, but it's been dead useful. We've been able to keep in contact much better than by letters, and it doesn't seem interceptable."
Hermione laughed. "That's such a you response."
"Hmm?"
"'Who cares how it works? It does something; let's worry about that'. Whereas I'm agonising over its theoretical justification and not even thinking about how it can be useful."
Harry tickled her; she shrieked and fell backward onto his bed. "So what do we do now? If we attack him outright, we'll be exposed."
Hermione adjusted her skirt. "So we keep our covers, study like model students, and wait for the signal. And to do that, we need to polish your Occlumency shields. And mine, but I'm a lower priority since I don't think Snape is as likely to try to read my mind."
"And that's such a you response," he replied, "let's spend the weekend doing extra homework!"
This time she tickled him, but he was a boy and had the advantage of three years' Quidditch: he flipped and pinned her easily.
"You know, Ginny already has the entire school thinking I spent half the summer ravishing you," she said. "It would look bad if someone walked in now."
"This is what you don't want people to see? A discussion about having Voldemort around for tea is fine, but this is where you draw the line?"
She wriggled, and he let her up. "When it was just Skeeter, I could ignore it, but this is Ginny. She was – is – a friend, you know? It does bother me. I can't imagine what I was thinking when I told her; normally I'd take that sort of thing to the grave."
"That sort of thing? You mean there's more?"
She poked him in the stomach. "Yes, I do have a life outside of you, and no, you're never hearing a word of it. And I thought we were working on your Occlumency. Shut your eyes, in-out-pause, and don't forget your posture."
He lay back and breathed; Hermione sat cross-legged on the floor and began playing with her hair. [Voldemort, can you test my Occlumency in a few minutes?]
[Sure, it's not like I'm busy plotting the overthrow of the Ministry or anything.]
The room was circular with a diameter of about ten yards. At regular intervals were five large beds; most of the blankets were mussed. Four chests lay at the feet of the other beds; Harry kept his purse across his chest, fastened firmly shut. Bedside tables had bits of half-finished summer homework. Between Neville's and Seamus' beds was the shut doorway to the stairwell. The room was empty of people save himself and the one sitting against his bed frame, whose breathing matched his own. Outside came the excited voices of students from all four Houses playing a casual game of Quidditch, as well as birdsong and some people just enjoying the sunshine. He could feel the heat of the patches of sunlight that hit the carpet four yards away; Hermione's body heat shone on him like a beacon.
[… in Spain … ly on the …]
[I blocked half of it!] Harry excitedly thought back.
[I thought Shaw dialogue would hurry you up. You have the general idea; from here, it's just a question of getting it second nature so it can stand up to a proper attack. Keep on practising, and remember to keep your guard up even after you think the attack is over. One of the classic Legilimency tricks is to pause an attack just long enough for the target to think you've given up and drop their defences.]
"Apparently this is working," Harry said, trying to keep the feeling of total awareness and lack of distraction while speaking. "How does thinking work? You're supposed to clear your mind, but when you need to think about stuff, won't that just fill it back up again?"
"No," Hermione said, "because being vacant-minded isn't exactly what you want. You want control over your mind; this is easiest to achieve by clearing it of all thoughts, gaining perfect control over autonomous perceptions, then adding sight and higher-order thoughts back in under controlled conditions. A Master Occlumens doesn't, theoretically, need to clear his or her mind at all; it just helps."
"You're doing it even while explaining its theory perfectly, aren't you," Harry said.
"Yes. Don't let your spatial awareness go. One of Voldemort's books suggested trying to dance blindfolded to train that up."
"Bad idea. We'll just bash into one another."
"Stop and get your shield back up."
Harry held the thought, inhaled, exhaled, paused, and resumed. "I don't think I can keep my spatial awareness working well enough to avoid hitting you or anything else without vision."
"Practise, Harry."
… … …
By Monday, he could block out about two thirds of Voldemort's mental dialogue when he concentrated, which, as Voldemort said, was a start, but still not enough to risk a confrontation with Snape. He sighed and waited for Ron and Hermione to go down to breakfast.
A few corridors from the Great Hall, they found Neville, surrounded by a mob of Slytherins practising hexes. Malfoy, of course, was the leader, and was trying to coax Daphne into joining in. Pansy, Millicent, another girl, Crabbe and Goyle were with them.
"Come on, it's fun," Malfoy said.
"It's banal," Daphne said, arms crossed and eyes rolled.
"You've never lived until you've jinxed Longbottom," he said. "It's like good food, good wine and good sex. You need to try them all at least once."
"Perhaps, but I have no intention of trying any of them with you," she replied.
"Will you lay off him?" Harry said, as he and Ron interposed themselves between Neville and his tormentors; Hermione cast the counter-charms. "Has he ever done anything to you?"
"Thanks," Neville muttered.
"It's like with Hufflepuff," Malfoy said. "It's not that I hate them; it's just that they're such soft, appealing targets. Does the wolf hate the lamb?"
"Sod off," Ron answered.
"Insulting a prefect?" Malfoy asked, quirking an eyebrow. "You don't want a detention …"
"You can't do anything," Hermione said. "Report, and I'll counter."
They all turned to Daphne, who sighed in exasperation.
"This is beneath me," she said.
"Daph," Malfoy began.
"I think 'Greengrass' will do fine," she said.
There came the sound of marching feet; they turned to see Fred and George Weasley, walking in step. Without breaking stride, each drew their wand on Malfoy; his robes turned hot pink and he flew into the air with a yelp as though hoisted from the ankle by a troll.
Harry, Ron and Hermione laughed; Neville chuckled weakly, and even Daphne swallowed a snigger.
"I think I'm really getting the hang of Recolorations," Fred said brightly.
Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward menacingly; Daphne drew her wand and it gave a sound like a firecracker.
"Am I the only one," she said, "who remembers the part where there are four prefects here and it's the very first day of classes? So help me if you cretins cost me my badge, but none of you has ever seen me angry." And she turned tail and stalked off.
"Liberacorpus," George said, dropping Malfoy on his head.
Harry stared the remaining Slytherins down, but the fight seemed to have gone out of them, and they walked off without further complaint.
"Thanks for that," Neville said.
"No worries," Fred said.
"All part of our Git Levitation Service," George said.
"Why don't you stand up for yourself?" Hermione said. "You're a prefect now, you need to exert some authority."
"I don't know what I was thinking, accepting that badge," Neville said. "Daphne got hers partly because she's, you know, important, in society, and Malfoy said they probably only offered it to me so Gryffindor would have someone to try to match."
"That's ridiculous," Harry said. "Malfoy's just being a git."
"Is it?" Neville asked, turning tortured eyes on him. "Is it really? Because I can't think of a single other reason why I might get picked rather than you or Ron!"
Harry cast around; he couldn't think of one either. "Neville. You once told me you thought you should be in Hufflepuff, but the Hat Sorted you in here. Why?"
"Because it's just a hat?" Neville suggested.
"Because it saw, deep within you, the potential for courage," Harry ad-libbed. "So the next time you see Malfoy, you stand up for yourself and Gryffindor, prove the Hat and Professor McGonagall and everyone else who believes in you right, and tell those slimy snakes what's what!"
The Weasleys cheered; Hermione frowned.
"Snakes aren't slimy, Harry, those are slugs," she said.
"Tomayto, tomahto," Fred said, and he and his twin went off to sit with some friends at the Gryffindor table.
Among the fifth-years and a few others, Lavender was the centre of attention; she had a small wireless radio, playing teeny wizard pop music. The rest of their year was clustered around as she showed it off.
"I got it for my birthday," she said. "It can tune into international stations and even Muggle channels, when it's outside Hogwarts." Parvati turned the tuning dial experimentally.
"Crikey, that's a lot of spiders!" said the radio, in a thick accent.
A shadow fell over them: McGonagall, looking severe and with a bundle of timetables in hand.
"Miss Brown," she said. "That device is bothering your classmates."
"No no, it's fine," various people insisted.
"Oh, please, Professor," Lavender said. "I just got it for my birthday. I can turn it right down, see?" And she lowered the volume until it was barely audible under the babble of conversations around the Hall.
"Hmm," McGonagall said. "See it stays that way. It will not, of course, accompany you in classes." And she handed out the timetables.
"Guess we get to find out about Llywarch soon enough," Ron said, reading his: Monday began with a DADA double, followed by a free, Charms, and double History.
"Do you think she might be part goblin?" Harry asked. "Those ears …"
"Not ugly enough," Ron said. "Maybe a pixie?"
