Chapter Seven: A New School Year


It had been a very long couple of months for Harry since Willow – Professor Rosenberg, I should be saying– had whisked him away from Privet Drive. The new teacher had been providing all of them, but especially Harry, Remus, and Sirius, with Muggle-made nutritional drinks and supplements to promote muscle growth. He'd also been visited by Mr. Giles on occasion, usually in the company of a Slayer or two to test his reflexes.

Ron and Hermione tended to stay away from these lessons, and Harry had been meaning to talk to them about that. For some reason, Harry got the idea that Hermione in particular didn't trust anyone from the Council, including Professor Rosenberg.

Mrs. Weasley had not been quite as gracious about Willow's criticism of her as Harry had initially hoped. She had told the younger witch that while she was appreciative of her thoughtfulness for Lance, she felt that Willow was sticking her nose where it didn't belong.

What followed was a shouting match for the ages, with Professor Rosenberg taking the stance that Lance was her family just as much as he was Mrs. Weasley's, and Ron's mum had shouted back that Willow was too young to talk back to her about familial responsibilities. That had then led into an extended tirade about growing up in Sunnydale, which shocked Mrs. Weasley into silence. Being a Sunnydale survivor gave Professor Rosenberg some credit in almost everyone's eyes, and Molly Weasley was no exception to that effect.

In the end, a truce had been called, with both sides agreeing to find common ground for family's sake rather than continue arguing. Ginny ended up winning a few galleons from Ron, Fred, and George. The twins who had each bet that their mum would come out on top, Ron had bet on Professor Rosenberg – earning him some glares from Hermione – while Ginny had taken long odds on a draw.

Two days before the start of term, Harry found himself in his room, talking with Ron and Hermione about what the latter had learned about the Council.

"It's really fascinating, though there are a lot of gaps and clear omissions. But from what I can tell, a single girl, usually an adolescent, was chosen to fight against vampires, demons, and other dark creatures. I'm not sure how these girls were chosen, but there's no record of a witch becoming a Slayer, and a new one is only called when the old one has died. So it's clear that whatever this group claiming to be the Watcher's Council is, they're obviously something else entirely."

"How do you figure, Hermione?" Ron asked, not sounding all that interested.

"Well, isn't it obvious? 'One girl in all the world' is a Slayer. Only one at a time. And you've been training with several different people, all claiming to be Slayers, Harry. They're probably just a group trying to scam you somehow. Trying to take advantage of your fame. Or they could be in league with You-Know-Who."

"No, Hermione, you've got it all wrong," Harry protested. "I don't know how there's more than one Slayer, but there is. There are a LOT of them. And if they wanted to hurt me or take advantage of me, they wouldn't be training me to fight better."

"He's got a point, Hermione. Maybe something happened and changed the rules," Ron said neutrally.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't see how that's possible. Granted, the source of Slayer power is a mystery, and if they're working with other wandless witches and wizards, then they may have magic that we don't know about. But whoever these people are, they survived Sunnydale, which is a point in their favor."

"Remind me again what makes Sunnydale so special?" Ron asked.

"Sunnydale," Hermione explained patiently, as if to a small child, "was built on top of some sort of mystical convergence of energy. Like Hogwarts, only darker, more evil energy. Monsters and dark creatures were drawn there like magnets. At least, until the town became a giant crater."

"It's called a Hellmouth," Harry said. "And there are at least two others. One in Cleveland, and another in Washington DC."

Hermione gasped. "I thought Hellmouths were just legends! If they're real, and if Professor Rosenberg grew up on one… Harry, she's dangerous. That kind of energy taints magic. She's probably done terrible things, and I can't even imagine what-"

"Hermione!" Harry shouted. "Just stop, okay? Look, I've spent time with her. Gotten to know her. She's made mistakes. Some big mistakes. But she's moved past them and is making an effort to do good. And she's going to be teaching us things that I doubt any Ministry teacher would allow."

"And that's another point for worry!" Hermione protested. "Hellmouths can supposedly interfere with a lot of spells, so have done anything over there and gone unnoticed by the Ministry. And as for her assigned textbooks..."

"What? You mean that she didn't assign any?" Ron said brightly. "What's so bad about that?"

"We're going to be getting them, Ron! But she's going to be handing them out with no warning or notice as to what we'll be needing to study! I'm telling you, she's dangerous!"

"And I'm telling you," Harry said, "that you're overreacting, Hermione. Just let it go, okay? We'll see soon enough once term starts. And if she did beat up Snape, then she can't be all that bad."

To Harry's surprise, Hermione smiled. "There is that," she conceded.


It was morning on September 1st, and Willow was all set for her journey to Hogwarts. She'd triple-checked to make sure that she was fully packed, and she'd done some extra research to get all the necessary books for all of her students in each of seven years, and she'd caught up on the recent history of Hogwarts, of Harry Potter, and of the goings-on surrounding related people and things.

Willow had left for King's Cross station early while Harry and the others were still asleep. She didn't want to arrive with any students and seem like she was showing favoritism. She had made a conscious decision to wear a black turtleneck sweater, black jeans, and black running shoes instead of more traditional wizard clothing. Function would be more important than form for her class, and robes were not well-suited for combat.

She'd been practicing with her wand, and found it a bit cumbersome at first, but it soon became second nature to her. Wandless magic was easier for her, but she felt competent enough to teach both styles to those that were suited to either one. Her wand was now hidden away in a pocket in a navy-blue denim jacket, and her belongings had been shrunken down to fit in her pants pocket.

She'd found her way onto Platform 9 ¾ easily enough, and was fascinated by the scene on the other side. A few students and their families had also arrived early, and Willow got a few glances from some curious students and parents. Some younger students didn't pay her much mind, but a few older students and their families seemed unsure if she was an older student or a very young professor or some sort of hired help. Willow smiled, liking the feeling. That's me. Willow Rosenberg, Enigma Extraordinaire!

While she waited, Willow decided to stand on the non-magical side of the station and help students and their families get onto the platform if they were having difficulties. By the time 10:30 came around, Willow moved onto the platform itself and helped some of the students move their luggage onto the train.

At a quarter to eleven, Willow boarded the train and looked for an empty compartment where she could situate herself until the train got underway. She wasn't sure if she'd wander the train and get to know the students or if she'd wait until classes started to assess her charges. She didn't want to develop favorites before term started, but she didn't want to go in blind, either.

As the whistle blew, and the Hogwarts Express began to depart, her compartment door opened to reveal three boys who looked to be about Harry's age. "Oh. Sorry. We thought this compartment was empty," one of them said.

Willow smiled gently. "That's okay. I don't mind the company. That is, unless you mind the company. I'm sort of new, and if you don't want to talk to a complete stranger, I'd understand. But I certainly wouldn't mind getting to know you all."

The boys all smiled and sat down with her. "Thanks. It's getting a bit hectic out there. I'm Justin Finch-Fletchley," one of the boys said.

"I'm Ernie. Ernie Macmillan," another boy said. "And this is Zacharias Smith."

"A pleasure to meet you all. I'm Willow Rosenberg. Are you guys all housemates?"

"Sure are!" Zacharias Smith said proudly. "Hufflepuffs until the end!"

"Hufflepuff," Willow repeated. "That's the house that values loyalty and fairness, right?"

"That it is," Ernie Macmillan said with equal pride. "Good, strong qualities. It's sad how few people care about such things. Sure, Gryffindors are all noble and brave, and Ravenclaws are the supposed brains of the school, but nobody really takes time to recognize Hufflepuff. Except for Cedric," he said softly.

"Rest his soul," Justin said equally softly.

Willow smiled. "I don't think fairness and loyalty are things to be taken lightly at all. They may not stand out quite as much, but they're incredibly important. But what about Slytherin House? How do they overshadow you?"

"Oh, they don't count," Zacharias said quickly. "Evil gits, the lot of them. No good witch or wizard ever came out of that house."

"Is that so?" Willow asked. "Why is that the case?"

"Well," Ernie said, "Slytherins are all about cunning and ambition, not to mention purity of blood. Leads them towards a ruthless bent, if you know what I mean."

Willow's face became stern. "That's no reason to hate the entire house. Take me for example. I was the runt of my class for a long time. I lived in everyone's shadow, and I would have done anything to escape that position. I yearned for glory, and I worked hard to achieve it. But I didn't do bad stuff to get where I am now. I helped people, and I let my ambition drive me forward in that.

"And," Willow added wistfully, "I fell in love with the sweetest soul I could have ever hoped to meet. Kind, loyal, gentle to a fault. Probably would have been a Hufflepuff."

Justin whistled lowly. "A Slytherin and a Hufflepuff? I don't see that happening here. Maybe in America, but not here. What happened to your boyfriend? Why isn't he here?"

Willow laughed, but her eyes were sad. "Not a boy. Her name was Tara, and she died."

"Oh," all three boys said at once. "I'm sorry," they said in unison.

"Really, we didn't know," Zacharias said.

"It's okay, really. It's in the past, and I'm here now. And I carry a bit of her with me all the time, wherever I go. Whenever my ambition threatens to get the better of me and take me too far, I think of Tara, and I remember her kindness, and that keeps me rooted in reality. So don't ever take fairness and loyalty for granted. Unsung heroes may not get their glory, but if you're half the Hufflepuffs you make yourself out to be, you won't care as much for glory as you will for doing the right thing."

Ernie made a show of clapping his hands. "Thank you, Willow. Really, thank you. It's not often that anyone really appreciates anyone from Hufflepuff, let alone the house as a whole."

Willow smiled. "Glad to be of help. But don't get used to calling me 'Willow.'"

"Why not?" Zacharias said a bit hotly. "Something wrong with your name?"

"Nope," Willow said brightly. "Just that you don't want to be calling one of your teachers by her first name."

"What? You're joking," Zacharias blurted out.

"No, I am not," Willow said, the warmth draining from her face and her voice. "I'm glad to talk with students and get to know them, but I'm here for the very serious business of teaching you how to defend yourselves. I don't take that lightly, and neither should you."

"Zach, take it easy," Justin said to his housemate. "Sorry about that, Professor. It's just that you look a lot younger than we'd expect a professor to be, and you were really casual with us and… Well, you gave us words of encouragement. We're not too used to that, I guess, unless it's from Professor Sprout. Our Head of House," he said to clarify.

"I see. Well, we have a long train ride ahead of us, and I'm not all that familiar with current events, so maybe you could help me to get caught up?"

"Yeah, we could do that," Ernie said. "But Zach here is probably going to go on and on about Quidditch."

Willow snickered. "Right, you all really do fly around on brooms, don't you? I'd be up for learning more about that."

Justin and Ernie groaned as Zacharias looked smug in victory.

The next few hours passed quickly as the three students talked with their new Professor and told her about their past few years at Hogwarts. Ernie had to patrol the corridors for a while, as he was a prefect, but he came back often enough to contribute. For her part, Willow told the three British boys stories about the United States that were new to them.

As the sun began to set, while Ernie was out patrolling the corridors, the compartment door opened to reveal a pale-haired boy with a badge like Ernie's, only green instead of yellow, flanked by two large masses that bore a passing resemblance to human beings. The boy in the center actually looked a bit like Spike, assuming he was a kid wearing a silly-looking robe.

"Hello there," Willow said brightly. "May we help you?"

"Well, let's see," the pale-haired boy drawled, and Willow immediately regretted ever comparing him to Spike. "You're wearing Muggle clothing so close to Hogsmeade, and you're not from around here, given your accent, which makes me think you're a stowaway. And I'm a prefect, which means that you have to start showing a bit more respect or else… What's so funny?"

Willow couldn't help herself, and she started laughing uncontrollably. "Oh, Gods! You really are full of yourself, aren't you? Wow! I have no idea who you think you are, but you're a total idiot, you know that? I mean, if you want to abuse your authority, then at least be a little less obvious about it. And approaching a complete stranger with a superior attitude… You're just begging to have your ass handed to you, kid. I almost feel sorry for you."

The pale-haired boy was stunned into silence. "Who the Hell are you?" he asked, unable to say anything else.

"That," Justin said, trying to keep from laughing himself, "would be Professor Willow Rosenberg. And she actually had good things to say about Slytherin House, you know. But now that she's met you…"

"Wait a minute," Willow said. "You are the best male student Slytherin had to offer for the prefect's post? You seem to have mistaken arrogance for ambition. Best see to that and be patient when stalking your prey. You're acting brash and brazenly, as if you've won before you've started. Not the kind of thing a cunning Slytherin should be displaying if he's proud of his house. Are we clear, Mister…?"

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Perhaps you've heard of me? Or maybe my father, Lucius Malfoy?" the boy said with what dignity he could still muster.

"Hm, the names do sound familiar," Willow said honestly, recalling that this boy's father was a Death Eater. "Thank you for the information. Move along now."

The Slytherin prefect simply blinked. "What?"

"I said move along. Go away. Vamoose. Skedaddle. Get out of here. What part of this don't you understand, Mister Malfoy? And please, take your two henchmen with you." It was painfully obvious that they were nothing more than cronies, but Willow still felt a pang of guilt for insulting the silent students.

Malfoy looked as though he'd been slapped across the face. "My apologies, Professor,"he said, drawing out the last word for maximum sarcastic effect before leaving the area.

Justin and Zacharias looked at each other silently for a moment before exploding into thanks and compliments and expressions of awe at Willow's ability to stand up to Malfoy.

"Really, he just needed to be put in his place. I can handle people like him, don't you worry. I'd be more concerned about his father, considering what I've heard."

"What have you heard about Lucius Malfoy?" Justin asked a bit nervously.

"That he's a Death Eater," Willow said simply. "That he was present shortly after Voldemort was revived, and that he tried to covertly open the Chamber of Secrets about two years ago by passing off a dangerous artifact to an innocent student. Did I miss something?"

"Er, well," Zacharias said, as if unsure of what to say.

"Go on," Willow said. "Speak your mind. I won't bite, I promise."

"Well, it's just that… You don't believe Potter about You-Know-Who. Do you?"

Willow sighed. They'd been reading the Daily Prophet, or their parents had. "I do believe it. There was a powerful ritual used to revive Voldemort, and I could sense it all the way on the other side of the ocean. It took a little while, but I figured out the details, and Harry's story filled in the blanks. I may be younger than your other teachers, but don't think I'm inexperienced.

"I've fought against evils that no person should have to face, and I've survived horrors that would give most people nightmares. I've had to live with nightmares while awake and asleep for most of my life. And when I see signs that a powerful murderer is getting ready to kill again, don't you dare think I take that lightly. Do you understand me, Mister Smith?"

The student paled and recoiled in his seat. It was obvious that Willow had truly just gone from a friend to his teacher in the span of a few seconds. "Y-yes. I understand. It's just… The Ministry would tell us if he was back!"

"Why would they?" Willow shot back. "The Ministry is full of people who are paid a lot of money to keep silent about such things. You know that Lucius Malfoy is rich, right? So are a lot of old pureblood families. You know, the kinds of families that support Voldemort," she said, ignoring the shudders at the mention of the name. "If the Ministry can take money from 'upstanding citizens' while getting to pretend that they don't have anything to worry about, they're going to be stupid and do just that. Do you follow?"

Zacharias seemed to be struggling to find a response, but Justin nodded. "Yeah, I think I get what you're trying to say, Professor. And please don't ever let me make you angry. Detention with you would probably be…" Justin trailed off as he realized how closely he was speaking with a Professor.

"Don't worry. You haven't seen me angry yet. If I do get angry, you will know it without a doubt. I'm just dedicated and focused. And I don't intend to let anyone, be they from the Ministry or anywhere else, stand in the way of me getting you all ready to fight for your lives. That is my number one priority: keeping you all alive for as long as possible."

Silence greeted that statement. A moment later Ernie came back and took his seat. "Sorry I was away for so long. What'd I miss?"

Willow looked at the Hufflepuff prefect and smiled gently. "Nothing, Ernie. Are we almost there?"

"Yup! About another half hour or so. Might want to throw a cloak on, though. It's probably a lot colder than it is in here."

"I can protect myself from the elements, but I appreciate the thought," Willow said kindly.

The next half hour passed in silence, and the three Hufflepuffs exited the compartment once the train came to a stop at Hogsmeade Station.


Willow exited the train shortly afterwards, walking a short distance until she saw a flock of coaches, each drawn by creatures that Willow recognized as thestrals. Willow lamented that she could see the creatures, which only appeared to those who had seen death, but she did appreciate their alien looks as something unique and wonderful.

Once she boarded a coach, it took off without waiting for any others. She noticed the student-coaches traveled in a slightly different direction from her own, and Willow found herself at a side entrance to the Great Hall.

Exiting the coach, Willow entered the castle to find herself right at the staff table. She made her way to a seat near the left end that was labeled 'Prof. Rosenberg' and sat down. She recognized the small professor with the squeaky voice and the sallow-faced man, Snape. Dumbledore was unmistakable, and McGonagall was going to the Entrance Hall to fetch the first years, or so Willow guessed. The large man with the great bushy beard was nowhere to be seen.

There were a number of other Professors that Willow didn't recognize, but one in particular stood out. She wore a pink cardigan and had a bow in her hair, and Willow was suddenly afraid. The woman looked like a toad, which was too close to a frog for her tastes.

The older students took their seats at four long tables, presumably one for each house, while McGonagall entered from the side with the first years who had yet to be sorted.

Professor McGonagall placed an ancient-looking pointed hat on a stool in the center of the room, and it began to sing…

"In times of old when I was new
And Hogwarts barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted:
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning,
To make the world's best magic school
And pass along their learning.
'Together we will build and teach!'
The four good friends decided
And never did they dream that they
Might someday be divided,
For were there such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?
Unless it was the other pair
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there and so can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale.
Said Slytherin, 'We'll teach just those
Whose ancestry is purest.'
Said Ravenclaw, 'We'll teach those whose
Intelligence is surest.'
Said Gryffindor, 'We'll teach all those
With brave deeds to their name,'
Said Hufflepuff, 'I'll teach the lot,
And treat them just the same.'
These differences caused little strife
When first they came to light,
For each of the four founders had
A House in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so,
For instance, Slytherin
Took only pure-blood wizards
Of great cunning, just like him,
And only those of sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw
While the bravest and the boldest
Went to daring Gryffindor.
Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,
And taught them all she knew,
Thus the Houses and their founders
Retained friendships firm and true.
So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy years,
But then discord crept among us
Feeding on our faults and fears.
The Houses that, like pillars four,
Had once held up our school,
Now turned upon each other and,
Divided sought to rule.
And for a while, it seemed the school
Must meet an early end,
What with dueling and with fighting
And the clash of friend on friend
And at last there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting then died out
He left us quite downhearted.
And never since the founders four
Were whittled down to three
Have the Houses been united
As they once were meant to be.
And now the Sorting Hat is here
And you all know the score:
I sort you into Houses
Because that is what I'm for,
But this year I'll go further,
Listen closely to my song:
Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it's wrong,
Though I must fulfill my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes.
And we must unite inside her
Or we'll crumble from within
I have told you, I have warned you. …
Let the Sorting now begin."

Applause broke out amongst the students and faculty, along with a lot of mumbling, no doubt about the dark tidings that the Hat had mentioned. For her part, Willow made sure to applaud loudly and deliberately.

As she watched the students sorted into houses, Willow wondered why the school went along with the tradition at all, especially after the Sorting Hat's warnings. The system seemed to encourage rivalry and enmity, if the students on the train had been any indication. She made a mental note to make a special effort to treat all of her students equally, regardless of house.

Finally, all of the new students were sorted, and Dumbledore rose to his feet. "To our newcomers, welcome! To our old hands – welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

A round of laughter rippled through the room, and Willow was shocked to see an astounding volume of food appear in front of her. And then the smell of it all hit her. So good. Must eat. Stop thinking. Get food, Rosenberg. Stick it in your mouth, chew, swallow, repeat.

And the food was truly amazing! Willow wondered if this food could even fill a Slayer's stomach, it was so good. She tried to keep her table manners about her, but she found herself reaching for a dish once or twice that broke decorum ever so slightly. Thankfully, none of the staff seemed inclined to give her a hard time. Not yet, at least.

At last, the food disappeared, and Dumbledore began to speak once again. He gave warnings about the Forbidden Forest, magic in the corridors, and banned items. Standard stuff really.

But then…

"We have two changes in staff this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Rosenberg, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was some scattered applause, mostly from the Hufflepuff table. Willow waved a bit and smiled at the thought of the students she'd met telling their housemates good things about her.

"In addition," Dumbledore went on, "Undersecretary Umbridge, of the Ministry of Magic, will be residing at Hogwarts as an observer on behalf of the Department of Magical Education." Almost no one applauded this time, save for Dumbledore himself.

"Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on-"

He was interrupted by the Umbridge woman, who was clearing her throat as if wanting to address the student body. Dumbledore, graciously enough, allowed her to do so.

Willow only listened to the woman's speech to know her enemy, but it soon became clear that while the students were ignoring her simpering, falsely sweet words of welcome, there was a lot of hidden evil in her words. She was a spy and an agent of the status quo, Willow was certain. She'd have to make a supreme effort to keep from flaying the bitch.

Finally, the gathering ended, and Willow helped usher the students out of the Great Hall before finding her way to her office, which had a side room to double as her living space.

Collapsing on a soft bed, Willow tried to assimilate all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. "This is gonna be a long, long year."


A/N: Quotes for Dumbledore and the Sorting Hat are directly from 'The Sorting Hat's New Song' in HP Book Five.