"When I look back on my ordinary, ordinary life…

I see so much magic, though I missed it at the time."

-Jamie Cullum

N.E.W.T. Classes

"Wait, Harry, before you tell us, look up at the staff table! Who are those people?" Hermione was, of course, worried about her education. Harry never knew the names of some of her teachers. Professor Vector was the only professor's name he knew in those other classes she took.

Now that he was properly paying attention to the Head Table, he noticed that there were two wizards on McGonagall's left that he didn't recognize, along with a witch a couple more seats down. He noticed all the others. Slughorn, Sprout, and Flitwick were still here. Hagrid, Sinistra, and Trelawney all sat together at the right end of the table. Before he could get a chance to ask them if they knew any of the newcomers, he saw Minerva get up from her chair, conjure up a stack of parchments, and hand them to Professor Slughorn.

The Potions Master made his way down the rows, handing out the schedules. When he got to the foursome, he stopped for moment, gave Harry an admiring, yet concerned look, and moved on. "I'm so glad I have less classes this year!"

"Ronald! I can't believe you dropped a class!"

"It's ok, Hermione. I don't much fancy working for the Ministry, so I don't need to be an Auror."

"Cheers." Harry agreed, wishing he had dropped a class or two. "What are you taking this year?" He peered over to look at Ron's schedule.

"Defense, Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions. Nothing more, nothing less." He looked very proud of himself.

"I still can't believe you. I'm taking seven classes, and you're only taking four!" Hermione did not look so proud.

"Hey, someone's gotta take care of the room, make very romantic plans all the time –"

"Yeah. Playing Quidditch, eating, and sleeping are all very romantic." Hermione retorted, but not as seriously as she used to. The two of them looked at each other, smiled, and almost started snuggling right at the table. Ginny then spoke up.

"My classes weren't too bad last year, I mean, with the Carrows walking around all the time. I'm still taking five, though. I can't believe I'm in class with Ron, but I'm still in Herbology, though."

"We have the same schedule!" Harry was a little too ecstatic. Noticing his own glee, he dropped his demeanor a tad, remembering why he was so somber to begin with. Ginny grabbed his hand.

"I have an idea. How about the four of us have dinner out on the lawn tonight. We can nick some food from the kitchens, say hi to the house elves, and go sit under the stars. It looks like it's going to be a beautiful night, and Harry can tell us about whatever happened to him this morning."

Harry smiled.

Ginny's plan sounded perfect. Luckily, Harry had an open period before a double Defense class. As always, the only person who had to go to class was Hermione, who headed off to Arithmancy. Therefore, the other three made their way back to the common room to relax. Upon arriving, they once again realized that Harry and Ron really didn't know anyone. As such, everyone looked at them like conquering heroes, and Harry felt like he was going to have to live up to something that people had created in their minds. And as he had so many times the last couple days, he repeated to himself, "Focus on your N.E.W.T.'s. Focus on Ginny. Focus on your N.E.W.T.'s. Focus on Ginny." He said his mantra until he found himself in his dormitory.

Unbidden, the Three Daughters crept back into his troubled mind. However, before anything solid could form, Cedrella spoke up.

"Is Ginny your Lady?"

"Huh? Oh, hi Ced. Yes, she is."

"What is troubling you?"

"I just want to be normal." He checked to make sure no one was coming up. "It looks like that's not going to happen this year."

"Why is that?"

"Unless you know who or where the Three Daughters are, then I have a bad feeling about the next several months."

"The witch at the shop I was kept spoke of it in whispers."

"WHAT?" Harry hadn't been paying the correct amount of attention until now. "She knows about it?"

"I am only an owl. I have no idea what its importance is. However, I was always kept in the back, as I was priced too high. Sometimes, she would be using her fire to speak to a wizard, and a young one by the sound of it."

"Thanks, Ced! I mean. I'm not any closer, but at least I can ask someone." At that moment, three things happened: Harry gave a final hoot, Cedrella responded in kind, and Ron came up the stairs.

"What were you doing, mate?"

Knowing what he meant, Harry quickly answered. "Oh, just humming a muggle song. I think it's stuck in my head because I was doing the same thing the other day when Ginny walked in."

"Oh." Ron rummaged around the room, not searching for anything, but simply acclimating himself again to his old dormitory before setting off back to his own private room.

Harry had come to a conclusion of sorts about this new mystery. Gone were the days of operating completely alone. Granted, he assumed there were certain things he was going to have to do on his own, or at least keep secret to himself, but now he was not going to sit there putting only himself and his friends in harm's way. He conjured parchment and quill from thin air and sat down to write.

Dear Kingsley,

I'm not sure if you even receive post this way now that you are Minister. However, I need to ask you for advice and help. There is a situation here at Hogwarts, and Minerva will probably be getting in touch with you regardless, and we need your help. I want you to write me back, confirming that it is you writing, and we will go from there. Thank you for your time.

In fellowship,

Harry

"So, you up for a delivery?"

"Yes, Harry." Cedrella popped out of her cage, which was never closed, grabbed the envelope out of his hand without hesitation or waiting for an address to be written on it, and stood on the perch staring. "Where am I going?"

"Kingsley Shacklebot. He's the Minister of Magic. I'm not really sure how you do that, but try your best."

"I will succeed."

Harry thought that this pronouncement was a little much, but appreciated the confidence and dedication nonetheless. With yet another task done on yet another first day of school, Harry lied down on his bed, allowing his new problems to wash over him without the threat of an angry outburst or emotional upheaval. However, upon opening his eyes, realizing he had dozed off, and checking his watch, he scrambled out of bed, grabbed his schoolbag and raced down the stairs only to run into Ginny.

"Whoa, slow down. It's ok. I was just coming up to get you." She was rubbing his arm and smiling. "Ready for your first Defense class?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." They both started howling. Harry rarely made jokes these days, and when he did, it was almost always something concerning the recent fall of Voldemort or the celebrity status that went along with it. After they turned into their third corridor, Harry saw Ron waiting against the wall, and Hermione appearing seconds later. She jumped into his arms, kissed for a second, then made off towards class hand-in-hand.

Harry smiled.

The four of them took seats at two side-by-side tables. As Harry looked around the room, again noticing people who were Ginny's friends and not his, he saw that there were more students than he remembered. Before he could ask Ginny about it, get anything out of his bag, or get comfortable in his chair, the door to the office opened and in strode a man who, Harry thought, belonged in front of a camera or on a Quidditch Pitch.

He was dressed in midnight blue robes that seemed to have just been bought off the rack. His hair looked like Sirius had worn his in his youth. It looked completely intentional and yet strands fell like they were growing of their own accord. He wasn't a large or built man, but his stature, gait, smiling, and winking made him seem like a man who had more confidence than was ever necessary. "Hello, class." WHAT? Harry thought in his mind, but some of his classmates made audible responses, Ron's being the loudest. He's American? Harry looked around to see what other people thought, but it seemed that most of the female students had been confounded or imperiused. "I will take your faces to mean that you were not expecting this at all."

"You're a yank!" Ron said.

"Well spotted. My name is Julius MacDonald. I was born near Leicester, but my family moved to the states when I was very young. I grew up in a city called Dallas, but attended the Colonial Establishment in Roswell. I wish I could tell you stories about what the muggles think we're doing out there, but now is not the time for such joking."

"Yeah? When is the time for that?" Ron, sarcastically, was definitely not impressed with the new teacher.

"Well, Mr. Weasley, I find that test years are the toughest, and every once and awhile we will have hours to have fun. If I can't keep you sane, y'all won't do as well on your tests. Oh, but we still raise our hands if we wanna speak in class." He added.

Harry and Ginny started smirking. His accent wasn't that "wild, wild west" kind that Harry had seen on television, but some of the words he said were new. After about twenty minutes of introduction and overview, Professor MacDonald went steamrolling right into the curriculum. The class was going to be separated into six projects. The first five being solo projects, and the final one, due weeks before their N.E.W.T.'s, would be a group effort. After taking notes, about nothing to do with Defense and everything to do project-making, the bell rang, and the foursome made their bewildered way down to the dungeons.

"Oho! Harry, m'boy, it's good to see you again." Slughorn clapped him on the shoulder and made his way back to the desk while they found themselves a table that fit them all. Harry, like he always did, glanced around the room first and saw that this might have been the most difficult class for this particular year. There were only eleven students (all of whom were in Defense just before), including Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but Slughorn didn't seem to notice. Throughout the class, he lectured as if speaking to a grand hall of hundreds of listeners.

The students found out that this class would be project-based as well. The odd thing was that neither teacher had explained what the projects actually entailed. After lunch and another break, they left Ron in the common room and headed down to Herbology. There was a sign posted that stated the class would be held in Greenhouse Six. Harry opened the door first to see Professor Sprout, in her usual dung-stained clothing, pouring over some pots at her private table. However, and he realized he had stopped when Ginny ran into the back of him, there was another person standing at the table.

"Neville?"

"Harry! I was so glad to see that you three were going for your N.E.W.T.'s!"

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, I didn't exactly have a full year last year, so I have to do a little private tutoring with McGonagall, and then I get to take my tests around Halloween. In the meantime, though, I'm Professor Sprout's Teaching Assistant!"

"Whoa! You have a job. Congratulations, Nev."

"Thanks, Ginny. Yeah, she's retiring at the end of the year. Turns out most of the staff was sticking around just until You-Know-Who was gone, but a few of them said that they wanted to teach you guys as well."

"This is weird." Harry stated the obvious before taking his place between Hermione and Ginny. Again, the class was going to be project-based. Sprout, however, at least explained why.

"N.E.W.T. level classes prepare you for the next step in the magical world. Your classes, therefore, are more practical. Classes such as Defense, Potions, and Herbology will be entirely practical, with minimal essays and tests, if not none. Charms, Transfiguration, Runes, Arithmancy, and others will still be theoretical." With his first day done, Harry wanted nothing more than to crash into his bed. He did exactly that.

With Ginny in his arms the whole time.

After a few hours, though, they had to wake up for dinner. Cedrella did them one better. Around seven, Harry heard tapping on the window and let her in, taking the letter from her claws. "Thanks, Ced."

"That was English. I see that you have been working on separating the two?"

Harry just nodded. A response, in English or Owl, was not smart with someone else paying attention. "It's from Kingsley!"

"You know how many people get personal correspondence from the Minister? Without the seal or anything?"

"I don't know."

"I love you, Harry." He didn't understand. Instead, he opened the letter and read silently, not letting Ginny see it either.

Harry,

You lived with Snuffles for much less than time than you should have done. I hope that is sufficient. (It is, thought Harry). Now, you are correct, Minerva contacted me about the writing on the wall. She also told me that she has no idea what it means, but that you and a certain portrait have a few thoughts.

I do not want you to feel the need to disclose everything. You owe nothing to anyone in this world, or the next. However, you did ask for help, and I will be here, at the Ministry, whenever you are in need of it.

In fellowship,

Kingsley

p.s. I hate all that official title stuff. I appreciate you using my name.

"So? When's the picnic?" Harry was smiling.