Chapter 8 –Surprises Of An Unexpected Variety

Harry watched the blur of green that sped along outside the window as the Hogwarts Express made its way through the countryside. His face was pressed up against the glass, which his breath was rapidly fogging up. Soon his view would be obscured. Ginny, now in her seventh year, had been made a prefect. It had come as a surprise that Hermione was not appointed Head Girl, but Professor McGonagall had explained, at the beginning of the term, that the head boy and girl had been chosen from the seventh years for the sake of continuality.

So with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stuck patrolling the corridors, Harry was alone for the meantime. He knew he could well just get up and find someone else to sit with, it wasn't as if he was lacking friends. Yet Harry was alone for the first time in weeks, and found that he didn't mind this at all. It gave him a chance to think, for a start, something that he needed, especially after the last couple of days.

Harry pulled his face from the glass, and wiped at the window with his sleeve, straightening his glasses with the other hand. The familiar green of fields and trees began to flash by once more, periodically interspersed with flashes of red, or yellow that might have been barns, or tractors. It was the first time he could remember not looking forward to being back at Hogwarts.

It wasn't as if he disliked the place now. No, on the contrary, he relished being back after the events of last year. To tell the truth, it had been odd, the first few weeks, months even: Walking into the Great Hall, his mind conjuring the image of tables strewn with the bodies of the fallen, the innocent.

But we won, he had tried to keep reminding himself. We won, and that's why we even can come back. He wouldn't even let himself consider what the alternative could have been. He wouldn't be completing his NEWTS, that much was for sure. It had been hardest to Ron, and Ginny too, who had lost their brother. He knew they never walked down that corridor any more. Even though it had been completely rebuild, they always avoided it.

But eventually, they'd all had to come to terms with it. They had to accept that Hogwarts would never be the same as it was all those years ago. Dumbledore would never smile benevolently down at them from the staff table, his eyes twinkling with the promise of safety and protection. They would never again complain about a particularly unfair potions lesson with Snape again (though Ron would definitely not see this as something to dwell upon).

They'd just had to accept that Hogwarts had changed, times had changed, and move on, make new memories.

But this wasn't the reason Harry longed to be back at The Burrow. It was because his father and Sirius were there, and where they were, he wanted to be. It's not unreasonable, is it, Harry wondered, that I want to see my dad? That I want to talk to the father I never knew? The weekend had rushed by, more quickly than any before, and Harry had been presented no opportunity to talk to his father alone. And by the time we go back, they'll be long gone, back to their own time, and I'll never see them again.

Letting out a deep sigh, Harry stood up, stretching his stiff limbs. What was it that Dumbledore had once said?"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." There's no use in moping about something I can't change. Harry couldn't count the number of times he had learnt that lesson.

He would go and find one of the others. Neville and Luna were sure to be nearby, and a distraction was just what he needed. Harry headed to the compartment door, stumbling over something (though when he looked down, he couldn't work out what this might have been) and eventually managing to get out of the door.

But one conversation would have been nice.

---

"To everyone who spent Christmas away from Hogwarts, welcome back." Professor McGonagall's voice rang out through the quiet hall. "And to everyone, I hope your holidays were enjoyable." Hermione was amused to see the grins Harry and Ron shared across the table. Obviously they'd had a good time.

Hermione had been invited to The Burrow, but spent Christmas with her family instead. Though she had missed the splendour of a Hogwarts winter, and the crowded joviality at The Burrow, she had been glad to spend time with her parents. Since their return from Australia, she had realised how close she had been co loosing them completely, and was determined never to let this happen.

However much they couldn't comprehend Hermione's life in the wizarding world (or the wizarding and witching world, and she preferred to think of it) they loved and supported their only daughter, so she wasn't going to let anything change that.

Hermione directed her attention back to Professor McGonagall, who had continued to address the students.

"…and you can find the full list pinned to Mr. Filch's door. On another note, it has been discussed and decided upon that the eighth years shall be given extra privileges this term. Because in normal circumstances, you would be out of school by now, and especially as you have chosen to spend this year studying of your own free will, eighth years shall be permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade outside the usual scheduled weekends."

With this, there was a scattered burst of cheering and applause from the eight years that had returned for the year. Looking around though, Hermione could see several pouts on the faces of sixth and seventh years. The noise quietened down as the headmistress held up a hand to regain order.

"After much deliberation, we have also decided to award this privilege to head boy and girl, and the seventh year prefects."

She had to pause for a few moments due to the large amount of whooping that had erupted around the hall, then raised her voice in order to continue.

"…Provided you are of at least seventeen years of age, and after I receive a signed letter of consent from a parent or guardian."

The muttering had grown louder, though Hermione suspected that most of the noise was coming from Ron, who was doing looked a cross between a jig and a war dance with his arms. He and Harry had started discussing the extent to which they could abuse this privilege, and Hermione had to resort to elbowing Ron in the ribs, and asking if he knew the meaning of whispering.

Hermione caught Ginny's eye and flashed a grin at her as McGonagall started to talk again. Since her friend was a prefect, she could join them in Hogsmeade too. Hermione suspected that Harry was particularly pleased about this, though she was pretty sure he would have found a way to smuggle her out of the castle anyway.

"But first, a few rules must be made clear."

Ron, amongst several other people, let out a groan.

"Firstly, you may not leave the Hogwarts grounds during lesson time. Secondly, you may not leave the village or apparate elsewhere form there. Thirdly, if you intend to go out in the evenings from Sunday to Thursday, you must return to school by ten O'clock." Another groan threatened to break out, but McGonagall didn't pause. "However there shall be no curfew on Fridays and Saturdays." The groan was abruptly morphed into a cheer.

"A notice will be put up tomorrow, detailing these rules, and the floo connection to Hogsmeade. Please remember, if you are caught breaking and of these rules, or abusing this generous privilege, I will not hesitate to remove it."

Less than a minute later, the Great Hall had dissolved into excited chatter, and the tables had filled up with food.

"Well it looks like this term is going to be interesting. I just hope we'll have time for all our work, not to mention all the NEWT revision we have to do," Hermione joined in her friends' conversation, ignoring the rolled eyes and snorts that this comment received.

---

"What the…bloody hell!"

"Ron! Don't swear," came Hermione's scolding voice, as the Fat Lady's portrait swung shut behind them.

"It wasn't me!" The redhead had opened his mouth in a disbelieving fashion, and quickly turned his head, searching for the source of the noise. "I can't believe you'd just assume it was me!" His eyes came to rest on Harry, who was at back of the group.

"Hey, don't look at me!" Harry's voice was just as indignant.

Sirius received a sharp prod in the ribs, as James hissed, "Well done, idiot," in his ear.

"But…but…look at it!" Sirius whispered back, gesturing with his head at what stood before them."

He had been expecting to step into the Gryffindor common room when they came in through the portrait hole, but once he and James had managed to scramble though in the invisibility cloak without anyone noticing (a feat worthy of medals, and lots of chocolate, Sirius thought), and looked up, that was not what he had seen. Instead of a mass of armchairs and the roaring fire, they were standing at the entrance of a corridor about the same length as the common room he had expected to see.

Once he was able to see between the others that were mostly blocking his view, he saw that a tapestry adorned the end of the corridor, depicting a large lion in red and gold. There was a staircase to either side of the tapestry, which Sirius recognised to be those leading up to the dormitories. And that was the extent of what he recognised.

"Oh no! I completely forgot I was supposed to go and speak to Professor Sprout right after dinner!" The panic stricken boy – Neville, Sirius remembered them calling him, provide a very much welcome distraction as he pushed back through the slightly congested patch of corridor and hurried back to the portrait hole. By the time he had tripped over his own feet and managed to scramble out, the oddity of the moment before had been forgotten.

Now that they had reached the middle of the corridor, Sirius could see that were was a wooden door to each side. One read "Eighth Year Boys" and the other "Eighth Year Girls". How odd. There were quite a few oddities Sirius had noticed around Hogwarts, come to think of it, and they were none too subtle. Why is there an extra year anyway? He wondered, optional too? And I could have sworn that half of the west wing looked completely rebuilt from the carriage.

They had entered the one marked "boys" after Harry and Ron. Hermione had disappeared into the other, followed by two other girls, and Ginny was yet to return from some prefect duties or other.

The room they entered looked, unsurprisingly, like a semicircle. Like half of what used to be the Gryffindor common room, except there stood five four poster beds hung with red and gold, instead of the usual disarray of armchairs and book strewn tables. A door lay to one side, which presumably lead to the bathroom.

As he watched Harry slump on the bed closest to that door on the right, and Ron on the one beside him, Sirius felt a nudge in his ribs. "Now, d'ya reckon?" a voice breathed into his ear.

"May as well get it over with," he whispered back. But we may as well do with some hint of style, he added to himself.

Ron had opened his trunk and was busy rummaging through the contents, whilst Harry spoke to him, still sitting at the centre of his bed. As he talked, his exes fixed on his friend, Sirius and James had perched themselves carefully on the end of it, and removed the cloak.

"…and we can just go down to The Three Broomsticks whenever we want!"

"Well as long as it's not Madam Pudifoot's, that place frankly makes me nauseous." Sirius added in a conversational tone.

Two heads whipped around to stare at James and him. Two pairs of eyes widened, took in their presence, and they were seemingly unable to speak.

"Does that place even exist any more?" James raised an eyebrow.

"But James, on the other hand," Sirius continued, as if he wasn't being regarded in astonishment, "He enjoys taking his girls there on a regular basis." He winked at his friend. Winding him up was so incredibly fun.

"They drag me there, more like. But hey, a date's a date. At least I actually take them out, as opposed to just kissing random girls in hallways like somebody I know."

Hmph, the cheek of it. Sirius was saved from having to think of a suitably cutting response (which was good, because he couldn't) when both Harry and Ron spoke at once.

"What…how…?"

"I'll…uh…I'm just going to fetch Hermione."

Ron reappeared with both Hermione and Ginny in tow less than a minute later. Their reaction was ver different from the boys' however. Whilst Ginny just rolled her eyes, Hermione tutted and shook her head with a smile playing at her lips. "And why didn't I guess this would happen?" She spoke as much to herself as to the rest of the room. "Well…we'll have to let Professor McGonagall know."

She was interrupted by an indignant Ron. "Hermione! You don't have to report everyone that breaks the rules, you know! They're not technically students anyway; they don't have any rules to break!"

Hmm, I never really thought about what we'd do once we actually got here. Glancing over at James, Sirius was sure, from the expression on his face, that his friend hadn't had the foresight to plan ahead either.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione waited for Ron to finish ranting about how much of a goody-goody she was. Ginny, in the meantime, plopped herself down beside Harry.

"If you're quite finished, Ron?" Sirius made a mental note never to cross Hermione. If her wand work is as scathing as her tone, none of us would stand a chance. "I wasn't worried about the rules; I just thought it would be rather ridiculous for Sirius and James to have to sit in this dormitory until they can go home, when they clearly wanted to actually see Hogwarts. Let's face it; they're bound to sneak out at some point or another." She cast an apologetic look at them both, but Sirius merely shrugged his shoulders and smiled in a 'well you're right, we would' kind of way.

"And then what happens if they get caught? It's not as if they can be of much use finding a way back to their time if they're stuck here, and you really think McGonagall won't be of any use? If anyone will know about this type of thing, it's her. Besides, if they just appeared to be, say, overseas students, they can join in with lessons as well as come out with us to Hogsmeade."

Sirius had to stifle a laugh as she grossed her arms, her stony gaze inviting Ron, whose ears now resembled a fire engine, to challenger her.

---

An hour later, the four boys were back in the dormitory again. When they entered, Neville had been unpacking, and on Harry's instruction, they had told him what was going on. Being the only other occupant of the dorm meant that it was safer to tell him than to not, and it gave them a safe place to talk, too, without having to be constantly on guard.

James had a completely new identity now, as did Sirius, no Paddy, who was standing in front of the mirror, examining his face. His new name, Paddy Donovan, was a brilliant stroke of genius, in James' opinion. Of course, he was the one who had thought of it.

After Minerva got over her initial shock at seeing two students that she taught decades ago, and who were now dead, standing in her office, she had switched to her efficiency mode. James was still surprised that she was headmistress, and the question that had risen up in his mind at the feast had returned again: What happened to Dumbledore? Many of the portraits covering the walls of the headmistress' office were empty, however, and none of those who remained were the benign headmaster.

Harry had suggested Polyjuice Potion; they could become Dean and Seamus. Admittedly, the idea sounded pretty darn brilliant at first, but then they had to consider the implications of the potion. It would be difficult to obtain the ingredients, they would need a large supply, they knew nothing of the people they would become, and what about the real Dean and Seamus?

They had eventually decided on semi-permanent glamour charms instead, at Hermione's suggestion. Nobody could deny it, the girl had brains. Their faces, hair, and names had been changed just enough, but luckily their bodies had been left unchanged because apparently their stature was of little consequence. It was their voices Hermione had been worried about, but there was nothing they could really do about that unless you included trying to force Sirius to speak in an Irish accent, at which he failed miserably.

The glamours were far more efficient that Polyjuice Potion would have been. The charms only needed to be re-cast once a week, unlike the potion which they would have needed to take exactly once an hour, without fail. Will we even be here as long as a week? James wondered. Part of him hoped that they would.

Paddy's, it's just brilliant really, and to think he wanted to be called Stephen or something, usually long, dark hair, was now the completely opposite of how it had once been. It was short now, well not too short, it was still kind of shaggy, and blonde. Blonde! It wasn't a Lucius Malfoy kind of blonde though, it was a nice honeyish colour, and not looking like Lucius Malfoy was always a good thing. His features had been changed too, but only slightly so that people wouldn't recognize him. To James he still looked like Sirius, just a bit…distorted. His grey eyes were blue, and he had a dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks. These were the subject of his grumblings as he turned this way and that in front of the mirror.

"Freckles! Why freckles? Sirius Black does not have freckles!" he moaned, eliciting a "hmph" from Ron's end of the room.

"Shut up, Pads, there's nothing wrong with freckles. You still look like a sex god." James rolled his eyes and continued, "Now stop complaining and go to bed, you bloody temperamental Irish man."

With snorts of laughter from Ron and Harry, Sirius did manage to pull himself away from the mirror. Half way to his bed, James and Sirius had the two in between Neville's that stood on the side furthest from the bathroom door, and Harry and Ron's, he stopped short. "I don't have any pyjamas." James hadn't actually noticed that he had none, since he was sleeping in his boxers. But Sirius had a point.

McGonagall taken set of robes for each of them from her lost property cupboard (who knew she had one of those?) and transfigured them to the right sizes. They were to borrow shirts, trousers and ties from Harry and Ron, who each had a spare set or two. But they hadn't thought of anything else, like pyjamas, and casual clothes apart from the one set they had been wearing under the invisibility cloak. Come to think of it, I might need some clean underwear sometime this week, as well. I wonder if Scourgify works on clothes.

However, James was quite exhausted, and frankly couldn't be bothered to think of all the technicalities. He was Paul James now, and Paul James, with his brown hair and lack of glasses, wanted to go to sleep. As he pulled the curtains shut around his bed, cutting off the rest of the room as Harry rooted through his trunk to find pyjamas and Sirius continued with his melodrama, James contemplated the blank slate of a life he had in front of him, even if it might be only there for a few days.

He stared up at the top of his bed, looking at the folds of the scarlet material as it hung from the wood. Usually he would need his glasses to see that far, but now the image was sharp and perfect. The wonders of new magical technology, he thought to himself. All it had taken was a couple of charms.

Maybe I can get used to this.

---

This is the part where we magically forget that I haven't updated since school started. When you take English Lit and History A levels, it really does kill any will you might have to write in any free time you manage to scrape between writing essays. But it's the holidays in two weeks, so perhaps you won't have to wait as long next time.

Anyway, Merry Christmas everyone, and I hope you enjoyed the update! And reviews are always nice, hint hint if only to threaten with lynching if I don't update sooner next time.

PS. No offence intended to Irish people or anything!

PPS. Unless you're Carl.