"Thank god you're alright!"
Surprised by a sudden assault of brunette curls and the pressure against his torso, Harry stumbled backwards, right into the wooden wall of the coach while reaching for his wand. He had not expected an ambush before the Hogwarts Express had even cleared Gasworks Tunnel half a mile past Kings Cross and therefore was caught completely off guard. The Gryffindor had been trying to cope with the unexpected sadness of leaving his family for the first time, so it took his mind a moment to realise that the spoken words and the attack didn't match and a few more to realise that it was actually Hermione squeezing the air out of him.
"Good to see you as well."
"Oh, I was so worried about you…"
"Why?" Harry wanted to know as she missed his sarcasm. He was more than a little confused by Hermione's behaviour and the fact that she was still latched onto him. They had exchanged a couple letters over the summer holidays, but Harry couldn't remember the last time they talked about something besides classes. "I actually had a decent summer for once."
"But the Prophet wrote that you were at the World Cup during the riots and I was worried…"
"Hermione, I wasn't even in Europe during that. My family took me on a weekend trip to New York as a birthday present. We were on the Statue of Liberty and the Empire State Building, saw Times Square, were aboard USS Intrepid and visited the Central Park. I even got to fly on the Concorde, which was totally wicked."
"You were not there?" the Gryffindor witch echoed deflated and finally released her death grip on him. At least now Harry knew what had gotten his friend so worked up. The campgrounds surrounding England's new National Quidditch Stadium had become a killing ground, with more than four hundred dead and two thousand wounded. His Aunt had warned a few people, including Auror veteran Alastor Moody and George Hammer, the current head of the office, but even the bolstered security had not been enough to protect the gargantuan crowd of Quidditch fans. He was glad to have avoided the riots, even if it had meant missing the World Cup. Besides, Ireland's landslide victory had not even been interesting on the wireless, since the Green Army had secured a comfortable 200 point lead 30 minutes into the game, completely slaughtering the Bulgarians for a final 470 to 190.
"The only accurate thing the Prophet wrote about me the entire summer was that my aunt kinda adopted me."
"How can you be kinda adopted? Either you are or you are not."
"I mean, technically she adopted me… But that doesn't make her my mum… Don't get me wrong, Andi is great, but after the Dementor memory last year I don't think I will ever be able to call anyone else Mum…" Harry mumbled and rubbed his neck. It felt strange to be talking to Hermione after the last half year, when so much had happened. The letters had helped to mend a few bridges, but he was no longer the same person as before the Easter break and he got the impression that she had changed as well. They were still friends, but it'd take time for things to be like before. "C'mon, this really isn't the best place to talk."
With that, Harry led her to the compartment he, Katie and Leanne had commandeered. After the greetings were exchanged, he noticed Hedwig glaring at Hermione just as she sat down, yellow eyes following every step.
"Uhm, did something happen between you and Hedwig."
Before his friend could reply, Katie and Leanne shared a look and giggled. It took him a second to notice the double meaning while Hermione remained oblivious for once.
"When she first showed up, she carried no letter and I asked if she lost it. I mean, it was a perfectly reasonable question considering other people's owls usually do not appear without a letter on the French Riviera because she thought I needed to write you. Ever since Hedwig has been that way... I think she is insulted."
The owl in question barked, puffed her chest and spread her wings, as if to say "damn right I am!" That gesture made everyone in the compartment laugh, although Hermione was pouting a little.
"Don't you have a meeting to attend, Miss Prefect?" Leanne asked with mock sternness once she noticed the train had branched off the East Coast Main Line. It had left any sign of muggle railroads behind and was currently winding its way through a clearly magical maze of tunnels and passages in outer London, far too tight for regular trains.
"Of course, I will be going to this very official meeting then. Being a prefect is a very important responsibility after all. If you find me passed out next to a bottle of Firewhiskey, tell Dad that the prefect meetings are just as he described them."
After Katie danced out of the compartment and had struck a pose to emphasise the silver badge pinned to her shirt, Leanne dropped the pout and pulled a deck of cards from her backpack.
"You know how to play Rummy?"
"Uhm, yes…" Hermione replied, not entirely sure what to say after Katie's joke. The black haired girl chose to ignore her unease and began dealing the cards.
"Be careful, that one is absolutely ruthless when it comes to card games. Oh and never challenge her to a swordfight, she totally trashed Katie with a mace," Harry warned his friend while Leanne did her best to look innocent, which failed spectacularly as she had already picked up her hand and been eyeing the cards with a calculating expression.
"A mace?"
"It was a warhammer."
"Warhammer?" Hermione echoed again, her mouth still wide open.
"It's completely harmless. My Aunt has a totally wicked training room with all kinds of stuff, from benches for weightlifting to a weapon rack and enchanted protection gear. You can take a full force axe swing to the arm and it won't even bruise," Harry quickly explained, even if it meant stopping Leanne's antics. He really didn't want Hermione to get the wrong impression when it came to the Tonks.
"When Katie got the badge, I challenged her to a duel for it. I wanted a water fight, mind you, but then Dora said she'd take care of it. The next day a pair of paintball markers were waiting for us, complete with a transfigured set which looked like the town square in a Western. That one ended with three draws, so we tried something else," the older girl added as if she was talking about Fortescue's newest sundae and not melee combat.
"Dora?"
"My cousin, who's simply the best. Dora taught me how to swim and then took me to the beach, to the movie theatre and we played a lot of football…" the wizard trailed off with a wide grin on his face.
"Sounds like you had a great holiday…"
"The best" Harry repeated with unhinged enthusiasm.
"Then why does the Prophet make your family sound like they are dark witches in training, planning a coup d'etat?"
"To be honest, I haven't read that rag after the special issue about Andi's "takeover of the Wizengamot", but she pissed off quite a few of the old purebloods when she got the Lady Black title and then the Malfoy divorce came out so she isn't the most popular person right now."
"That's an underestimation if I've ever heard one. There were ninety-seven articles about Andromeda and Nymeria…"
"Nymphadora, although you ought to call her Dora or Tonks," Harry pointed out, happily recalling the many times his cousin had been complaining about her mother's idea of a good name. The Tonks were definitely far from the average family, but he wouldn't change a single thing about them. "If they couldn't even get that straight, what does that say about their articles?"
"Nothing good," Hermione conceded after a short pause. "Are you happy there?"
"Yes, definitely the best summer I've had. It is a little strange that adults really care about me, but they are really going out of their way to make me feel welcome," Harry said and blushed, not very comfortable talking about the subject.
"You definitely look better…" Hermione began but paused as her cheeks reddened.
"Your new haircut is rather striking as well," the wizard quipped, flicking one of the brown curls back at his friend. While still a mess rivalling his own, cutting it to shoulder length made it stand up at odd angles instead of being dragged down by its own weight. Leanne just sniggered, watching the two younger students make fools out of themselves.
"Well, the new glasses and clothes are nice, but I meant you look… lighter, happier..." the brunette stuttered.
"You should have seen him when he got Sirius' letter on the last day of the term. He was practically bouncing around the Express," Leanne threw in.
"What exactly happened last year? Your letter only said that Sirius was innocent and got some cousin of his to take care of you... Which was not reassuring, at all."
And so Harry retold the events which led to Sirius escaping and Pettigrew being kissed as well as the adult's reactions to his dumbfounded friend.
"What's worse, Sirius thinks that there was no trial, but when Aunt Andi poked around in the Ministry archives she found out that they tried him in absence and used his shocked ramblings as a confession of guilt. Dumbledore even testified that Sirius was the secret keeper when he cast the Fidelius-charm because he didn't know that there was a switch afterwards."
"I take that you aren't the headmaster's largest fan right now."
"Not really… I mean, he did everything right, but it still led to the wrong results. But some of our adventures at Hogwarts… You know that we have been through a lot if smuggling a dragon was one of the harmless things."
"Wait, dragon smuggling?" Leanne cut in. "You definitely forgot to mention that."
"Remember the one morning when Gryffindor suddenly had 150 points missing? Hagrid had gotten himself a baby dragon and we helped him get it away before he was thrown into jail over it. Of course, Malfoy had to be a dick and managed to get us and Neville into trouble."
"Was that the reason for the wraith detention in the Forbidden Forest?"
"Yeah. Not one of my brightest moments…"
"My parents didn't like it either," Hermione admitted meekly.
"You told your parents about that?"
"That… and everything else. Not that I intended to, mind you, but I was really tired and it just slipped out..."
"Oh..."
"They were not very happy about it, even wanted to take me out of Hogwarts, but there's really no other choice. Every Muggleborn has to get at least three OWLs before they can decide to leave the magical world, otherwise, the Ministry will obliviate anything past our eleventh birthday and they are not gentle about it. Brain damage is a rather common result."
"And after you take the OWLs?" Harry asked, not really wanting to know the answer. Even if he wasn't as close with them as before, he couldn't imagine Hogwarts without Ron or Hermione. The well-meant nagging and the wet dreams about the Cannons were just part of his experience at the magical castle and without them, something would be missing, even if both could be annoying at times.
"I don't know, it really depends on the next two years. And afterwards, I can quit at any point although I really don't want to… I become an adult in the magical world 19 days after our sixth year starts so I'm pretty sure I could find a way to get around my parents, but I can't imagine doing that any more than imagining leaving all of this behind..."
At this point, Harry had no idea what he was supposed to say, so he decided to try something that had worked well on him during the summer and pulled his friend into a sideways hug. Really, what else could he do?
"I mean, I understand where my parents are coming from… From what we have seen Hogwarts doesn't have the best track record with Voldemort, the basilisk and the dementors… But I don't want to leave Hogwarts… I don't want to leave you… I, I like it here… I don't think I'd ever fit in back in the normal world, I never did before… I love them, I really do, but choosing between them and..." Hermione rambled on, her eyes glistening with unshed tears but she managed to avoid crying by clinging to the seeker's arm and burrowing her head between him and the fabric of the seat. Half a year ago, that move would have had him flinching, but after a summer with Dora had changed his opinion on and reaction to hugs. Although he really could have done without being poked with nipple-tipped fingers.
"Hermione, sometimes you don't think things through. Even if you didn't go to Hogwarts, you can still use magic once you are of age. And we can still be friends," Harry offered carefully. While he couldn't do anything about most of her problems, he could reassure her of one thing. After all, thanks to her academic frenzy, he had experienced the anxiety about losing a friend just a few months earlier. And yet he didn't feel like rubbing that into his friend's face since apparently, her summer had been far worse than his.
"But we wouldn't see each other anymore…"
"Hermione, there's this thing called apparation, which moves you 500 miles in like a second."
"But you need to be of age to get a license."
"You said it yourself, this will be an issue for 19 days, then you are an adult. Besides, worst case I ask Dora to bring me over to your house."
"She would do that?" the brunette asked with a glimmer of hope sparkling in her brown eyes.
"Granger… Hermione, Tonks took us to France at least twenty times this summer and then popped across half of Western Europe because she felt like eating an authentic Italian Pizza from Napoli or Tarte Flambee from Strasbourg, I doubt she would mind taking the twenty seconds to drop her favourite cousin off at your doorstep," Leanne cut in. She had enjoyed the beach trips and spent quite a lot of time talking to the Metamorph, glad to get another adult perspective on the life in magical Britain. Her mother had moved from Singapore before it declared its independence in the sixties and was now working for British Rail while her father ran a plumbing service in Rochester, so Katie's father had been the only one she could have talked to about magic before.
"You have been to France? Twenty times?"
With that, the conversation moved to lighter topics as the train made its way to Scotland. Katie made her way back to their compartment soon afterwards and the girls made it clear that Harry had no luck when it came to card games. The older Tonks dominating everyone else at strategy games he could live with, but after ten rounds were played and he hadn't won once, Harry began to resent his bad luck and was glad when the lunch trolley arrived. Honeydukes' chocolate might not make him win every game, but it definitely lifted his spirits.
Being completely drenched from the rain, the Great Hall was felt like the best place in the world. Harry sat down near one of the large fireplaces and basked in its warmth as Katie and Hermione chose seats next to him. A few drying and warming charms took care of their imminent problems, although his first attempt was a little too enthusiastic and ended with a scorched robe. While more and more students made their way to their House tables, the three Gryffindors watched as the Professors seated themselves. However, just as Snape was about to take his customary chair, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher reached inside the sleeve of his tattered coat and gave the Slytherin a jerky shake of the head, his hand still resting on his wand. They faced off for a long moment before Snape hissed something and stalked down the elevated row of chairs, fuming and trying to gain as much distance as possible from the new teacher.
"Well, whoever that is, Leanne is going to like him."
"Who's the other new teacher?" Hermione wanted to know, ignoring Katie's remark and nodded towards a blonde woman about to sit down.
"Isn't that last year's head girl?"
Harry tried to get a better look at the young witch but the fifth table was rather far away from his seat and he couldn't see the faces there very well.
"Oh my God, that really Penelope. I wonder what she will be teaching."
"History obviously, although she is sitting in Snape's chair," Katie pointed out.
"But that's only because the new Defence teacher scared Snape off…"
Whatever else Hermione intend to say was cut off by Professor McGonagall leading a wet batch of first years into the Hall, all of them staring at the enchanted ceiling in awe. A few of them were leaving a trail of water behind, positively drenched as if they had not only been through a rainstorm but through the lake itself after their boat had capsized and shaking badly.
"Why has no one dried them off? The water has to be freezing." Hermione asked a little too loud, causing more than one student to turn towards her. "They have to be freezing."
"So? If I understood Harry correctly, and I'm sure I have, the teachers sent four firsties and a man without a wand to hunt down some monster which was actually a shade of Vol-Voldemort. Do you really think that something as mundane as hypothermia would bother them?" Katie asked and Harry began counting down for the inevitable eruption of Mt Granger. But to his surprise, the accustomed reaction when someone badmouthed a teacher never came.
"But… Right. Well, at least we ought to make sure that the new Gryffindors don't die before the feast is over."
It was strange to see that side of his friend and Harry decided that it didn't suit her at all. Hermione should the eager girl trying to learn everything about magic, not the broody pessimist. That used to be his job but apparently, her parents' words have had more impact than he first thought. Then the Sorting Hat sang about a year filled with trials and hardships to overcome by working together and Harry just knew that he would get buggered once more. A wave of crushing dread washed over him as he realised that the jokes he made about ending up in the tournament may very well become real if even a bloody hat deemed it necessary to issue warnings.
"Why is Neville staring at you like you had eaten his toad and not a plate of shepherd's pie?" Hermione wanted to know once Harry had finished his second helping of Treacle Tart and felt like he was about to burst.
"I have no idea, haven't seen him once during the holidays. No letters either."
Looking up the Gryffindor table, Harry noticed that both Ron and Neville shooting him dark looks. He had sent his redheaded friend a letter only to receive no response, so what was this about? And what had gotten Neville's knickers in a twist? The boy was staring at him with undiluted hatred as if he wished that looks could kill. Well, at least Malfoy had not tired to start some trouble...
"Now that we are all fed and watered, may I have your attention please?" Dumbledore's magically amplified voice echoed through the Great Hall, stopping all conversations instantly. "It is a great pleasure to welcome Alastor Moody, former Head Auror and instructor at the MLE Academy as your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."
The following applause was moderate, with the Slytherins and quite a few Ravenclaws not participating. Meanwhile, Harry tried to get a better look at the man Dora had gushed about quite often. He had known that Mad-Eye was supposed to be scarred, but with the veteran of two civil wars now looking up and at the student body, he could see just how much Moody had been through if his face was any indicator. Missing the tip of his nose, an ear and a lot of hair would be enough to prove his worth, but the mess that was his skin made anything Harry had been through look like a scraped knee. Entire chunks of skin were missing while other places were deformed by scar tissue and badly healed wounds. Yet the old man had a challenging expression on his face, daring anyone to try something.
"And I am sure most of you are familiar with the second addition to the teaching staff, Miss Penelope Clearwater. She will take over Muggle Studies after proving her superior skill over Professor Burbage, who has transferred to Dublin Academy."
This time the applause was even more sparse since no one knew how to react to that announcement. Most students were surprised that you could actually become a Professor that way, although quite a few did not care about the subject at all. After all, it was just Muggle Studies. Yet Dumbledore and the young teacher seemed both unfussed by the rather frosty welcome. Harry had no idea what to expect from Penelope, but as a Muggleborn she ought to be better than what he had seen of Burbage during the last term.
"It is also a great honour announce that the Triwizard Tournament will return and Hogwarts will be the host…"
While the headmaster explained the basics of the competition, Harry couldn't find a reason to be happy about the entire thing. For one, it had gotten Quidditch cancelled and the Gryffindor seeker was dying to try out some of the plays he had seen during the World Cup. Second, he doubted that the age restriction would stop anyone from entering, considering that the last time something had been "protected" in the Castle, the security measures could be circumvented by a group of first years. And lastly, who in their right mind would design a school competition where every second contestant died? Even the gladiators in the Colosseum had better odds than that.
"Our guests will arrive on the 30th of October, while the Champions will be chosen on All Hallows' Eve…"
If Harry had needed another sign that he would end up in the bloody tournament, there it was.
AN:
In case you are wondering why there's no "Dumbledore rushes Harry to his office on some flimsy excuse" scene: Canon Dumbledore preferred the hands-off approach, watching things unfold from a distance instead of forcing a confrontation where he gets trash-talked by a teenager. The man outlived the two darkest wizards of his age, so he is certainly not an impulsive idiot. Also, no Sorting Hat song because once you've read a few fics, they tend to become repetitive.