Sunday, April 7th, 1996, 01h00.

It's been two hours since Voldemort's escape from the Ministry of Magic, and a triumphant thrill remains burning within Harry. He feels as lively as ever, regardless of sitting here in the early hours of the morning awaiting Dumbledore's arrival. Minutes pass by before the Headmaster finally floos back into his office, arriving amidst flames of green.

"Thank you," says Dumbledore, after receiving applause from many a portrait. He then takes a seat behind his desk to face Harry. "In light of recent events, Cornelius Fudge is preparing to step down as Minister of Magic. The Wizengamot has also reached a unanimous decision to revoke your expulsion status."

Harry scoffs. "How does that even make sense from their point of view? Aren't they under the impression that I've been sitting all year with the Dursleys? What's the point of letting a supposedly ignorant fifth-year return six weeks before the O.W.L. exams?"

"Think about the impression you'd make by passing your O.W.L.s with such an absurdly short time for preparation. Their guess is that you've been trying to study while at the Dursleys. Of course, this gives them the impression that you have zero practical experience other than duelling..."

"And yet, this 'ignorant fifteen year old' held off Lord Voldemort," says Harry. "I suppose I'll be needing to cram it out with the practicals from tomorrow onwards. How's everyone doing after last night's showdown?"

"Could be worse," says Dumbledore, "I had to convince Mrs. Weasley to let her children gain experience alongside us. I daresay they've been useful on the battlefield; more numbers meant a greater distraction for Voldemort's group."

"How's Neville doing, sir? And I'm not talking about his physical injuries."

"Ah," Dumbledore pauses for thought before continuing, "That is a good question. On the one hand, he's fairly excited to be getting his own wand, seeing as Augusta Longbottom has finally taken pride in her grandson. On the other hand, though, neither of them can fathom your actions as reported by Neville to his grandmother this morning. What happened out there between you and Bellatrix Lestrange, Harry?"

The office remains a shade of blue from the early morning sky, and Harry's smile can be seen through the dim candlelight. "If I told you, sir, you'd think me absolutely insane."

"No, I wouldn't."

Harry shifts in his seat before responding. "My whole family is dead save for the Dursleys... But now that Sirius has come into my life, I just feel the need to, I dunno—"

"Strengthen the Black family?" asks the portrait of Phineas Nigellus nearby. "A very noble cause, young Potter, but a very foolish one if you think Bellatrix to be redeemable."

"Everyone is capable of change, Phineas," says Dumbledore.

"If what Mr. Potter has been saying before your arrival is correct, Dumbledore, then Bellatrix would never leave her Master's side. Now that the Dark Lord has been exposed, my deranged descendant would certainly grovel at his feet even further. She would beg forgiveness for failing her mission."

"Or," says Harry, "she's secretly feeling betrayed at being left behind for Azkaban. Fifteen years of devoted waiting, then she gets out for a good few months only to be abandoned for Crouch Jr. Everyone has their limits, including your so-called 'deranged descendant', Professor Black."

"But Azkaban would be a walk in the park for her now, seeing as the dementors are on the Dark Lord's side. They'll either abandon the prison or give the Death Eaters an easier stay," says Phineas.

"Nothing you say will make me hate Bellatrix," says Harry.

"If you're that dedicated to strengthening this family line," says Phineas, "then rather watch my, perhaps-not-entirely-worthless, great-great-grandson's back. He's reckless and nearly got both of you killed with his 'clever scheme'."

"Thank you, Phineas," says Dumbledore, before turning to address Harry. "You may have heard some of this before, but allow me to offer you a more complete explanation. I guessed, fifteen years ago, that your scar might be a potential connection between you and Voldemort. It soon became apparent that my guess was correct, as they usually tend to be. That scar had given you warnings whenever Voldemort was close to you, or whenever he felt powerful emotions."

"I'm listening," says Harry, leaning back and folding his arms. "It's become more pronounced since the graveyard, right?"

"Exactly, now that Voldemort has returned to his own body, with his full powers, that connection is as potent as ever. More recently, however, is the question of when Voldemort might have discovered this connection between the two of you."

Harry furrows his brows before rubbing his chin. "Hmm, it could have been the night I saw Nagini attack Mr. Weasley. You said it was more than just a simple case of using Occlumency to block."

"That I did, and I stand by what I've said before. From that moment on, your dreams of the windowless corridor had escalated, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then Voldemort was leading you on in the hopes of going to the Department of Mysteries." Dumbledore smiles before carrying on. "Of course, he was operating at a slow pace; gradually goading you while finalizing his plans for an ambush."

"And what a reversal last night turned out to be," mutters Harry.

"But you already know all this, including why I've initially planned on minimising contact with you throughout the year."

"I was a risk," says Harry, "even with my Occlumency efforts."

"I could not, however, choose to ignore you after everything that's transpired since the Triwizard Tournament. Call it a mixture of caution and common sense, if you'd like."

"There was no need to think I'd break down in despair from everything that's happened thus far, sir. Nobody, and nothing, breaks me."

"You were closer to despair than you'd admit, and that is why Miss Granger took it upon herself to care for you. Few people can say that they're surrounded by as much affection as you are, Harry. I almost pity Voldemort for the stark contrast he'd no doubt experienced inside your mind. You do know that I'd strongly advise against using the Unforgivables, correct?"

"Sorry, sir, I couldn't help it."

"But for Voldemort to have gone from such hatred in your mind to such pure love and affection... It's like night and day, and that is why I believe he will never attempt to possess you again."

"He probably thinks me an advanced Legilimens or something, given how I lured him into a sense of control. Is that why you said he'll be the one employing Occlumency now?" asks Harry, after sitting upright in his seat.

"Yes, especially considering the consequences of leaving your connection unguarded. Once again, he fails to understand that which he deems irrelevant. Voldemort fails to understand the importance of love and affection. The same force which drove Lily to sacrifice herself for your survival. Love is the power that Voldemort knows not."

"What about last night's Priori Incantatem?" asks Harry.

"I was quite surprised to see a glaring error in the reversal of Voldemort's victims. Tom Riddle, his father, was not supposed to be there at all. Never mind the point at which he'd emerged from the wand."

"Alyssa guessed that it was the Veil of Death which played some role in that. She said her uncle didn't wish to let himself be seen, probably to avoid us telling his wife about his fate."

"And so they had... swapped?" asks Dumbledore, noting the look of triumph on Harry's face. "Yes, I am asking you a question now, Harry. Death is a subject of much mystery, even in the wizarding world."

"That's what Alyssa had said too, yes. She also mentioned something about Voldemort killing his father with a different wand."

"That's exactly what we'll be discussing in the near future. You see, I've obtained quite a collection of memories over the years, all of them connecting to Tom Marvolo Riddle in some way."

"Can we view them now, sir?"

"Patience, there will come a time for all that. Right now, your O.W.L.s take priority." Dumbledore stands up from his seat. "It seems you've overlooked something, Harry. Surely you'd like to inquire about the prophecy?"

"I was hoping you'd know what it said."

"And I certainly do," says Dumbledore, "But have you ever wondered why exactly Voldemort targeted your family? Why he chose to kill you? It's because of the very same prophecy you both sought out last night. Voldemort, however, had only heard half of it. You see, it was Professor Trelawney herself who went into one of her trance-like recitals." Dumbledore proceeds to inform Harry of Trelawney's interview at the Hog's Head; though he omits the part about Snape being the eavesdropper, which Harry's unaware of.

"So he wanted to hear it in full, after all this time?" asks Harry.

"Exactly, and that was the bulk of his plans since his 'rebirth'. You're an uncertainty in his eyes, and Voldemort never liked uncertainties; with the exception of things he deems irrelevant You, however, are clearly something he'd rather not overlook again." Dumbledore approaches his Pensieve where a memory of Trelawney's recital is soon played.

Once finished, Harry's expression remains thoughtful. They now discuss what the prophecy might have meant, and that Neville was another potential candidate for Voldemort's attack.

"So why'd he choose me, specifically? Why couldn't he have gone after Neville? Why the hell was it my parents who were murdered!?"

"Harry, calm down, you're overthinking this whole scenario. Voldemort would never have gone after Neville Longbottom first. Tom Marvolo Riddle identified far more with you, the Half-Blood, than a Pureblood child."

Harry lets out a lengthy groan. "That... makes sense, I suppose."

"Right," says Dumbledore, "And coming back to what I've said earlier, love is the power that Voldemort knows not. He could have turned around when Lily pleaded to have you spared. But from that day on, you were marked as Voldemort's equal; by his own hand. Had he heard the complete prophecy, well, I cannot be sure of how events would have transpired thereafter."

"About the end of the prophecy..." Harry stands up from his seat. "How exactly am I going to kill a man who's got so much more experience than me? We can't even duel without triggering a reaction of our wands. I don't like to say this in front of others but... it's just been luck so far. Hermione's right that duelling Voldemort would be like suicide."

"You will find out when the time is right," says Dumbledore, "It'd be best not to dwell on such thoughts now. Not when there are O.W.L. exams that are certain to affect your future, and especially not after this arduous year you've endured."

"Then I'll wait," says Harry, "and when the 'time is right' I'll do whatever it takes to put down that rabid animal."

Dumbledore's expression saddens a fair bit. "You've grown into a very mature man, Harry, and it's a true shame that events have conspired against you. That is why I feel that you should have been a Prefect, especially considering how well you've handled your responsibilities this year."

"The only way I can become a Prefect is to fail my O.W.L.s and restart fifth year. But that'd break my friends' hearts, especially Hermione's." Harry looks to the floor and sighs. "I can't bear to disappoint her after everything we've been through."

"It's past two o'clock already," says a misty-eyed Dumbledore, "I'd suggest getting some rest for what could be an eventful day ahead."

Harry grabs his Invisibility Cloak from a nearby table before exiting Dumbledore's Office. No matter what, he simply cannot bring himself to feel sleepy. The thrill of last night keeps him wide awake en route to the Room of Requirement. Regardless of it being exposed, Harry reuses the D.A. area before entering the bedroom at the far rear wall. Nobody would be patrolling around this time of the night, and none would suspect anyone of taking shelter in this room now.

By the time Harry wakes up, his watch shows that it's just after half past nine. He smiles, knowing that many students have remained at school for this Easter holidays. Then he gets cleaned and has breakfast before exiting the Room of Requirement. Many corridors and staircases remain empty, though, as everyone's still in the Great Hall. Eventually, Harry stands on the marble steps of the entrance hall; looking around, he then spots Umbridge's Educational Decrees hanging about.

"To hell with this rubbish, Bombarda!"

The loud explosion causes quite a stir in the Great Hall, as students are told to remain calm. Minutes later sees Umbridge hurrying out to find the cause of the commotion.

"What? Who's responsible for this destruction?" she asks, standing in the midst of many scattered Educational Decrees.

"That would be me, Professor," says Harry, causing Umbridge to turn wildly on the spot. Her expression a mix of surprise, anger, and fear. "Have you seen this morning's paper? I haven't, though, but I can assume your time here is up. There's no denying the fact that Voldemort and some Death Eaters invaded your precious Ministry."

"I don't know what trickery you have done to get Cornelius to resign—"

"There is no trickery, there is only the truth," Harry descends the steps to stand face-to-face with Umbridge. "Like you've scarred my friend's hand: I must not tell lies, correct?"

"Act smug now, Potter, for this is a temporary victory," Umbridge folds her arms while smiling. "Who needs Cornelius, anyway? The world of politics is beyond your understanding, child. Even should you try and show what I did to the Mudblood's hand; the Ministry values me far too much to care. Nothing will happen, and that is the reality of life. By all means, assault me now if you'd like, hero."

She may be an annoying toad of a woman, but Umbridge's words reek of the truth. Unwilling to tarnish his own image, Harry forcibly remains calm. "So, who's next in line to succeed Fudge?"

"That would be Rufus Scrimgeour," says Umbridge, "He's a hardhead, 'proactive Head of the Aurors' and all that. But at the end of the day, he's still a politician. So, enjoy your recompense from the dimwit Cornelius using Ministry coffers, Potter. I, however, shall be taking leave and awaiting Rufus' letter of confirmation. That is to confirm me continuing my duties as Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic."

"I'd suggest leaving now," says Harry, playing the same game as Umbridge by faking a smile. "Before the ridicule hits you."

Umbridge gives Harry an appraising look, as if trying to judge the boy she's hardly known. As she turns around to re-enter the Great Hall, Harry swiftly adds: "You're going to end up just like Fudge, you know. Content and secure in your position until true justice wins out. People like you, well, they get a little too comfortable," Harry shakes his head while smiling. "It's only a matter of time until you do something so stupid that it'll cost you everything."

"Wishful thinking, Mr. Potter, but I know how to play the game."

"One day the game is going to play you, and when that happens... I'll be there. You will slip up, mark my words," says Harry, letting Umbridge push open the double doors to return to her breakfast. To his surprise, it's only minutes until the Great Hall goes silent for an announcement. Harry, who remains standing in the entrance hall, overhears Umbridge addressing the room.

"Students and staff, it has been a privilege to teach and guide this school—" She pauses as the Great Hall erupts into jeers, boos, and chants of 'QUIT!' "—through a tumultuous year of uncertainty. But, now that events have revealed a certain wizard's return, I believe there is much work to be done at the Ministry. Therefore, in the interest of preserving our governing body and guiding us forward; I, Dolores Jane Umbridge, hereby announce my resignation as Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

While the Great Hall erupts into jeers and laughter, Harry finds himself approached by Professor Dumbledore.

"I must admit that this has been a slight surprise," he says, before Harry smiles.

"Part of me wants to humiliate her for all she's done. I'm in no way forgiving this evil woman, but neither am I going to waste my efforts on a fruitless task. It's like Uncle Vernon used to say, 'you gotta play the game to win the game.' Humiliating and going after Umbridge now would be a short term bit of fun. But, in the long run, she's bound to slip up, and that'll be the start of my revenge."

"How do you propose Dolores Umbridge might 'slip up'?" asks Dumbledore, even though Harry reckons he's got speculations of his own.

"She'll get even more cosier in her post over time. I can't be too sure of what's to come, but people like her, well... they do slip up. I just know there's going to come something that will put her in her place. So, I'll wait."

The Great Hall's doors soon open as Umbridge walks out. She barely acknowledges Dumbledore or Harry while climbing the marble steps. Neither does she care for a most disappointed and praising Filch on the grand staircase.

"I expect that she'll be clearing her office and using the floo network to return to the Ministry," says Dumbledore. "Then I'll have that fireplace disconnected like the rest of the school." He now turns to smile at Harry. "I have a pleasant surprise for you, and for everyone else. Let's give them a few minutes to arrive, shall we?"

"What surprise?" asks Harry.

"Wait and see."

Fifteen minutes pass by before the castle's entrance doors open up, and Harry gasps as Lupin, Moody, and Tonks happily enter.

"Wotcher, little big hero Dark Lord fighter!"

"Potter," greets Moody. "It's good to see you, hard lad."

"Hello, Harry! Meet your substitute Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers until the exams," says Lupin. "That'll be the three of us, of course. Gotta reverse the damage wrought across your curriculum by the Ministry. Oh, and before you ask, we've got the 'cycles' covered."

"Yeah," adds Tonks, "We'll be teaching together, or sometimes two of us, or just one. That ought to give Remus over here ample opportunity to stay away when it's, well, you know..."

As ecstatic as Harry appears, he's equally concerned too. "But, wait, isn't the position—"

"Jinxed?" asks Dumbledore. "Professors Lupin and Moody had previously quit, yes, but they're relatively unharmed."

"No curse or jinx can stop me from showing you young sponges of knowledge what's what!" says Tonks, her hair a lovely shade of purple. "Besides, we'll only be around for under three months. Gonna be a real cram-fest, though, so let's hope you can all keep up."

"And before you ask," says Lupin, "Sirius is busy at the Ministry. Yep, we've sent him to deliver Dumbledore's letter regarding Hogwarts and Hogsmeade's Auror patrols. There needs to be around a handful of Aurors here, at least. But, hey, that's Tonks' department, literally."

Harry opens his mouth to speak but then stops. All he can do is stand and beam with a smile at the older trio before him.

"I think we've left him speechless," says Tonks, "Aren't you starving, Harry? Or have you already had breakfast? Or... should I sit you right beside me and dish your food in front of everyone?"

"Very funny; the House Elves got me sorted with food elsewhere already," he responds, "So, um, shall we enter the Great Hall?"

"Let the Headmaster lead the way," replies Tonks, before Dumbledore steps through the double doors. As expected, many students show their relief with loud cheers and applause. Then comes a moment of bemused silence as Lupin, Moody and Tonks file into the Great Hall. Harry, meanwhile, stands in the doorway; mostly unnoticed as everyone eyes Dumbledore standing at his owl lectern.

"The very best of mornings to you all!" he greets, grinning while opening his arms wide. "Firstly, I'd like to wish each and every one of you gathered here today a Happy Easter. This, of course, extends to our few students who've chosen to spend the holidays in the company of their families. Yes, we must never forget the importance of our loved ones. And here, at Hogwarts, we must stand together in the face of adversity."

Dumbledore now gestures towards the three arrivals who've taken their seats at the staff table. Lupin and Moody sit near Hagrid while Tonks sits herself beside a most pleased Professor Sprout.

"Allow me to introduce, and reintroduce, our Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers who'll be taking you until the end of the school year. Please give a warm welcome to Professors Lupin, Moody, and the lovely Miss Nymphadora Tonks."

Most of the Great Hall, with the exception of the pro-Umbridge Slytherin minority, gives a loud round of applause. To Harry's relief, the general public still remains unaware of Lupin's condition. A fact that has the Professor appearing noticeably relieved as well.

"As everyone in this Hall now knows, Lord Voldemort had indeed been sighted in the Ministry of Magic. I am sure you have all perused through your newspapers, and are deeply concerned over these revelations. These are dangerous times we live in, and I cannot emphasize that strongly enough. Each of us are obliged to care for ourselves in addition to our fellow staff and students. In light of recent events, the castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the past few hours."

Dumbledore sweeps his gaze over the silent crowd before continuing:

"Carelessness remains a prominent threat; I must, therefore, urge you to abide by any security restrictions imposed by your teachers. It is of paramount importance that you remain within the castle after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside this castle, to report it to a member of the staff immediately. The Ministry is also preparing to station some of their Aurors in and around this school, as well as Hogsmeade."

He observes the frightened crowd before carrying on with his speech.

"But, let us not refrain ourselves from enjoying these holidays. Hogwarts is as safe a home as there'll ever be. Now then, just a few announcements: Curfew for all students is now at sunset, regardless of your year. Also, I'm pleased to announce the reinstatement of Madam Hooch as both Flying Instructor and our Quidditch Referee. Speaking of which, I believe we are all in favour of a rematch, correct? Gryffindor against Slytherin will take place on the second Saturday of May. The Quidditch Cup will be up for grabs once more, and all points from the previous final are hereby nullified."

Just over a quarter of the Slytherin table erupts into loud protests. Their boos, jeers, and yells of 'UNFAIR!' are simply smiled at by Dumbledore. Meanwhile, the rest of the school applauds his decision while various Slytherins discreetly seem in favour as well.

"That will be all, thank you. Oh, and should any of you happen to spot Mr. Harry Potter in or around the school, please refrain from bombarding him with questions."

Harry remains seated on the marble steps for over half an hour until students start trickling out of the Great Hall. Some appear to be familiar faces while others are relatively unknown to him. All, however, stand and gape at the Boy-Who-Lived blasting away Umbridge's Educational Decrees.

"What the hell is causing that racket? Why's nobody stopping whoever that is—" Draco Malfoy barges through the crowd of ten gathered outside the Great Hall. Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle soon flank him as they spot Harry, who's dressed in uniform.

"Don't look at me like that," says Harry, holding his wand upright for the group to behold. "Like it? I think it's pretty tough. Why not ask your daddy what happened when I duelled the Dark Lord? Oh, wait, daddy's in jail."

"He'll be out soon," says Malfoy, his tone laced with fury. "The dementors have abandoned Azkaban; you can't land my father in prison..."

"You're dead, Potter," says Nott, drawing his wand alongside his peers. "We're going to make you pay for what you did to our fathers." He looks around, checking to see if any member of the staff is within sight. "Think you're a big man now, eh? Headmaster and the Headmaster's pet come running back into school? Absolutely pathetic!"

"Come at me then," says Harry, opening his arms wide while standing on the marble steps. "I duelled Lord Voldemort! You losers are nothing compared to that. I blocked spells from your daddy dearest deceptive Death Eaters. Dunno where your father was, though, Goyle. Probably wasn't even considered to attack the Ministry."

"Let's get Potter!" says Goyle, while the crowd at the door try to barge their way back into the Great Hall.

"Quickly," adds Crabbe, "Nobody from the teachers is looking!"

"Petrificus Totalus!" shouts Nott.

"Stupefy!" adds Goyle.

"Furnunculus!" yells Crabbe.

"Locomotor Mortis!" says Malfoy.

"Protego!" Harry blocks their attacks before speaking. "The problem is, you're messing with the wrong Slytherin." He sprints past the group before exiting the castle. "Let's take this in the courtyard, bitches!"

More students hurry out the Great Hall to view the commotion as Malfoy's group races out the front doors. At this point, Harry spots a few D.A. members angrily drawing their wands. Soon, a battle ensues with Malfoy's group taking on the Patils, Terry Boot, and Ernie Macmillan.

"No Inquisitorial Squad anymore, eh?" asks Ernie. "Deduct points for this, Expelliarmus!"

"Depulso!" adds Padma. "Been waiting to get these brats all year."

Back and forth goes the action until two seventh-year Slytherins, Fawley and Rowle, reinforce Malfoy's group. They immediately take to casting non-verbal spells which catch the Patils, Terry, and Ernie, off-guard. Now it's six-on-one before Harry sees his Slytherin girls exiting the doors. Then comes more students and, finally, a few teachers.

"You're going to pay for humiliating their fathers, Potter," says the burly Fawley.

"Their dads humiliated themselves last night," replies Harry, standing in the centre of the courtyard.

"What is going on out here?" asks Professor Flitwick. "Put those wands away at once—"

"You're not so tough, Potter!" The seventh-year pair ignore Flitwick as they cast non-verbal stunners at Harry, who deflects them with a non-verbal shield charm.

"What makes you think I'm scared of a bunch of losers like you? Seventh year my arse! I can do that too, you know." He grins before swiftly firing a non-verbal disarming charm that catches Fawley off-guard. Then comes a non-verbal banishing charm which knocks back Rowle, Crabbe, and Goyle.

"What the heck, Harry?" asks Parvati. "Where'd you learn to do all that?"

"Yeah, man!" adds Terry. "How'd you manage non-verbal casting? That's N.E.W.T. level stuff."

"I fought Lord Voldemort, so this is absolutely nothing," says Harry, enjoying the expressions on many a student's (and Flitwick's) face. "Come on, daddy's boys, you spoke so tough earlier."

"He's trying to attack us, Professor!" says Malfoy, although Flitwick immediately reprimands Harry's attackers.

"As far as I'm aware, Mr. Malfoy, your group tried to attack Mr. Potter."

"Deduct points, sir!" says Harry, earning himself an open-mouthed look from Ernie.

"They're in your House, remember? The heck?"

"I don't accumulate points with such blatant corruption," mutters Harry, smiling as Flitwick deducts 10 points from each of the six attacking Slytherins.

"And 20 points to Slytherin, Mr. Potter, for such a marvellous show of non-verbal magic. Considering your lack of attendance, this is most surprising!"

Professors Lupin, Moody, and Tonks soon make their way through the growing crowd at the front double doors.

"I don't even need to ask," says Moody, looking from Harry to Malfoy's group. "Keep this up, you three, and you'll end up no different than your fathers! Goyle, your dad got lucky he wasn't at the Ministry last night."

"Oh great!" says Nott, scowling as Tonks approaches Harry. "Another 'teacher' favouring Potter. Is everyone gonna fuss over this bloody—" He goes mute as Harry casts a non-verbal silencing charm.

"Finite Incantatem!" Malfoy reverses the charm before leading his group away. Their expressions only worsened upon receiving three nights' worth of detention.

"You alright, Harry?" asks Tonks, while Flitwick and Lupin disperse the growing crowd at the doors.

"Yes, Professor Tonks, I'm perfectly fine."

"Oh, come off it," laughs Tonks. "Now you're making me sound old."

"Okay, I'm fine, Nymphadora."

"It's Professor Tonks to you, Mr. Potter," she says. "Don't make me deduct points from your precious green House." Tonks spots the five girls standing nearby. "Are you ladies just going to stand and stare?"

Before Harry can even think properly, he's swarmed by Daphne, Tracey, Millicent, Sally-Anne, and Pansy. All five surrounding him in the tightest of group hugs.

"Are you trying to kill me? Oh, I see, you're working for Voldemort now, eh—OUCH! Let go of my hair, Daphne."

"AAH, HOLY HELL BUT DID WE MISS YOU, BOY!" replies Daphne, refusing to let go until Pansy yanks her away.

"You're looking much better as well, Harry," says a beaming Pansy. "So, I guess Granger has been taking good care of you after all. No more sad, broken-down looking baby Potter, no, sir."

"Now there's no more reason for you girls to dislike my Hermione anymore. She's been helping me cope through this terrible year."

"Did you snog and do the deed with her?" asks Daphne, who giggles upon seeing Harry's expression. "I'll take that as a 'no' then."

"Did you really do all that stuff in the papers?" asks a startled Sally-Anne. "There's no way."

"I didn't even read the papers yet," admits Harry. "Don't tell me they're on my case again?"

"No, no, no!" says Millicent. "They're very praising of you now, Harry, extremely much so. It's like a totally different bunch of people are running the Daily Prophet."

"Nah, it's the same people," says Pansy, "I know it is." She then lowers her voice while pulling Harry into another bear hug. "I'm so glad that mom wasn't with last night. But it's only a matter of time until she's called into action... I really, really hope it's nothing too bad."

"Voldemort's low on the Death Eater count now," says Harry, "He'll be cautious for quite a while. So, let's forget all that and enjoy the Easter holidays."

Daphne, however, remains utterly excitable while almost bouncing on the heels of her shoes. "So, how was it? What does the Dark Lord look like? Is he really strong? What spells did you use to fight someone like him? What was all the fighting about, anyway? I like your wand! Is that your new one? Didn't Pansy say you said it looks like the Dark Lord's one?"

"Too many questions," says Sally-Anne. "You're going to explode his brain, silly. Here's my question: What's the deal with you and school now, Harry? Are you in fifth-year?"

"That's a great question," admits Millicent, as the five girls appear truly concerned. "If you fail your O.W.L.s, it won't be that embarrassing. Everyone will understand that it's because you're out of time, Harry, but we want you in sixth-year next year."

"But, if our Harry Dark Lord warrior does pass, then it'll raise quite a few eyebrows," says Pansy, her green eyes narrowed while staring into Harry's. "Nobody knows for certain that you've been in school this whole time, Mr. Weasley. So, how are you gonna explain passing your exams which are around the corner?"

"I am the Boy-Who-Lived, simple as that. No explanations needed."

"Yes!" exclaims Tracey. "That's the confident Harry that we remember, and that we all adore. He's the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Do-His-Exams now."

Standing quite amazed nearby, the group of four D.A. members turn to leave, but stop as Harry calls them over. Padma, Parvati, Terry, and Ernie now approach the six Slytherins in the corner of the courtyard.

"No more snide rubbish," says Harry, "From now on, we Slytherins won't hold ourselves too high above the rest. I mean; sure, we're still better, but there's no reason not to have allies. So, you four, shake hands with my girls and make peace for anything they may have said or done before."

"Look at this guy," says Padma, "He comes back and thinks he owns the school."

"But he does own the school now," replies Parvati, shaking hands with each of Harry's friends. "Coolest damn Snake we've ever seen."

"No hard feelings over those 20 points I deducted last month, Macmillan?" asks a haughty Pansy. "The Inquisitorial Squad was stupid fun while it lasted."

"Fine, we got that 20 back for helping Professor McGonagall out anyway," says Ernie, shaking hands with Pansy.

"I suspect that you were on Harry's side the whole time," says Terry, looking at a smug Pansy. "No wonder he didn't get caught. You saved his arse."

"Granger did her bit too," says Pansy, "Let's not disregard Harry's love... or one of his loves, though."

"Yeah," adds Tracey. "He's so horny that he can't just pick one girl. It's gotta be, uh, how many, now again?"

"My heart is big enough for all my loves," says Harry, grinning as Pansy smiles. "Ah, it's so lovely to officially be back."

"Where is Granger, anyway?" asks Pansy, "I didn't see her at breakfast."

"She and the other fighters are probably having a lie in," says Harry, "Last night was absolutely insane. And no, I'm not in the mood to discuss why everything went down. Maybe the papers will shed some light someday."

"Alright, the welcoming novelty of our Harry is over," says Pansy, "Your theory's on point, right, baby Potter?"

"Yeah, pretty much so."

"Then, to the greenhouses we go! I don't care what you have to say about relaxation or whatever." Pansy grabs Harry by the arm before leading him all the way to the Herbology greenhouses. Here, they spend the next two hours revising for the O.W.L.

"Man, I've really missed out!"

"Shut up and study," says Pansy, as the girls bring all manner of plants his way. "Yeah, sure, Granger said you were trying to do some practice in that special room, but you're ill-prepared. At least your Incendio is on point, as Professor Sprout hinted that that may come in our exam."

"I've really missed you girls—"

"Shut up and study," says Daphne, before turning Harry to face a small fanged geranium atop the table. "This might also come in our O.W.L."

"Revise, boy, revise!" insists Pansy, standing right beside Harry as they browse through the many plants left out for students to study. By midday, Ron, Neville, and Hermione enter the greenhouse.

"Look, it's your babysitter, Harry," says Pansy, though she smiles at a freshly-woken Hermione. "Had lunch yet, Granger?"

"I sure did, Pansy, but would it kill you to use my first name?"

"You are 'Granger' to me, Granger. It is what it is, Granger."

"Blimey, the whole gang's here," says Ron.

Meanwhile, Neville no longer feels intimidated by Pansy. "I'm studying right here, say whatever you want," he walks past a scoffing Pansy as she looks him up and down.

"Someone's grown big balls since last night," she says, "Fine, act tough, Longbottom. But don't forget who's the real man around school. That'd be my baby Potter."

"Argh, I really don't like that nickname," says Neville, whose new wand sticks out from his trousers pocket. "My gran bought me a new wand, Harry, it's 13 inches of cherry with a unicorn hair core."

"About last night, Neville—"

Pansy looks from Harry to Neville before raising her brows. "That sentence sounds highly suspicious, but okay. What happened last night between the two of you?"

"Oh shoosh, you minx," whispers Hermione in Pansy's ear. "It's certainly not what you might think."

"Forget about it," says Neville, "But, if we all meet again on the battlefield; I'm going to attack her on sight, understand? It doesn't matter if she potentially likes you. Do we have an understanding, Harry?"

"What in heck are they talking about now?" asks Millicent.

"I've never seen Longbottom so serious," replies Sally-Anne. "What's got his knickers in a twist?"

"Do we have an understanding?" repeats Neville. "This is very personal to me, as I'm sure most of Dumbledore's Army already knows."

"Fine," replies Harry calmly. "Go ahead and attack her if you meet again. But don't expect to simply go in and not be tortured, killed or heavily wounded. Now, I'm going to study on that side of the greenhouse." He smiles before heading to the far left while Neville takes up the far right corner to revise. The girls and Ron, meanwhile, stand in its centre.

"Seriously, what the hell was that about?" asks Tracey. "Do tell us right now, anyone! Did our Harry just get told off by Longbottom?"

"Surely that cannot be," mutters Pansy, eyeing the grinning Harry in disbelief. "Longbottom's a wuss."

Ron and Hermione proceed to inform the girls of the strange dynamic between Harry Potter and Bellatrix Lestrange. As expected, the girls are all but lost for words. "Are you friggen kidding me, Weasley?" asks Pansy. "Even my mom says one should be wary around that Lestrange bitch."

"Hey, don't question me about what goes on in Harry's head. You girls have spent more time with him than I have," says Ron.

"Excuse me for a moment..." Pansy hurries over to stand behind Harry (who's keenly inspecting another plant). "Explain yourself, Mister. Do you have a kink for strong Death Eater women?" She lowers her voice. "Like, maybe, Bellatrix Lestrange or my mom? Huh? Talk fast, baby Potter."

"She calls me that too, you know. Bella, that is," Harry grins at Pansy's expression of him shortening Bellatrix's name. "Neville seeks to fight her again; well, good luck with that, hahaha! I like Bellatrix."

"Why? Does she turn you on?" asks Pansy, standing with her arms folded. "Granger, me, and Delacour... I know you like tough gals. But, Bellatrix Lestrange is a whole different beast, Harry. Don't tell me you imagine yourself rolling around in bed with her? Typical horny adolescent boy perving on older ladies."

"She's Sirius' cousin, so that makes her like an auntie to me," says Harry, "So I like her no matter what, and I don't care what she's done before."

"But she's pure evil," says Pansy, leaning forward and looking left at Harry.

"So? Your mum's a Death Eater but I don't hold that against you, do I?"

"Point taken," Pansy adopts a thoughtful expression while still looking at Harry. "Just be careful with those ideas; Longbottom's got good reason to hate Lestrange's guts. It probably won't be too long until the whole lot are out of jail again. Now shut up and study."

Hours later, the group of Harry, Pansy, Daphne, Tracey, Millicent, Sally-Anne, Ron, and Hermione make their way back to the entrance hall. Along the way, every student waves or tries their best to get a word in with Harry, who's surrounded by his group as they eventually enter the Great Hall.

"Hey, hey," says Yasmin, running over to hug Harry near the Slytherin table. "Why didn't I see you earlier today, huh? Look at you, all growing up and fighting friggen You-Know-Who! The rest of us D.A. folks missed all the action at the Ministry!"

Cedric and Cho come hurrying over too, both in smiles. "Well done, Harry!" says Cedric, fervently shaking his hand. "Cho and I wish we were there to stick it to the Death Eaters. Oh well, gotta move forward and look to the future, right?"

"Right," says Harry, "I assure you that there'll be plenty of action coming up. The way things are going, it's bound to be all-out war eventually."

"Good thing Cedric's on his way to becoming an Auror then," says Cho, "They'll never know what hit 'em when Mr. Head Boy shows them who's boss. Best Hufflepuff in the Department, he'll be."

"Actually," says Tonks, coming up from behind the group. "I'm the best Badger in the office, sorry. But hey, you can always work towards second place, Head Boy."

"Yes, Professor," replies Cedric, as Tonks walks down the aisle with her head held high. "That's a fascinating woman; you wouldn't say she's an Auror at first glance."

"Oh yeah!" says Harry, snapping his fingers upon remembering something. "I forgot to say that I owe all of Dumbledore's Army an apology. For not getting to the Patronus part that you were all so eagerly anticipating. I'll see if I can ask—"

"Of course, Harry!" says Lupin, now entering the Great Hall. "You folks are talking so loud here I could hear you from the entrance hall. I suppose it's only fair that our, fourth-year and above, Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons practice the Patronus. Have you heard about the dementors abandoning Azkaban? I've always said they were unreliable scum."

Moody now enters the Hall; his wooden leg clearly heard upon his arrival. "All the more reason to get in as much practice as we can. With three of us teaching, I reckon we can squeeze in about two classes for each of the years per week. And we'll rotate the joining too, so... Gryffindor-Slytherin, Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw, Gryffindor-Hufflepuff... you get what I mean, right?"

"That sounds fantastic!" says Cho, "It'll be like continuing Dumbledore's Army again. I really can't wait!"

"Hey, calm down," laughs Cedric, turning around and walking with his arm around her shoulders. "It's still holidays, remember? Wouldn't be fair to have classes now."

Cho takes a moment to turn around and look at Hermione. "I'm not completely forgiving you for Marietta, but I suppose I can't sympathize much with her. I mean, Harry would've been locked away for life if they'd caught him upstairs."

"Edgecombe's a selfish bitch for that snitching," says Harry, "But go and give her the emotional support she needs nowadays."

Cedric and Cho return to the Ravenclaw table while Lupin speaks to Harry's group:

"O.W.L. revision or not," he says, as Moody begins walking down the aisle. "I'm sure all of our staff members realise the importance of training you students to actually defend yourselves. The Ministry has wrought more damage on your safety than you'd admit. An entire year wasted on that stupid Defensive Magical Theory rubbish."

"It's definitely rubbish!" says Hermione, "That book should be burned, scrapped, or used as toilet paper."

Daphne turns to look at Hermione while gasping. "Wow, you know it's dead serious when Granger, of all people, hates a textbook."

"How's your hand doing, Granger?" asks Pansy, "If I could find out where Umbridge stays..." She lowers her voice, "Maybe mom can track her and—"

"Oh gosh no!" says Hermione. "I'm fine, honestly. The scars will fade away over time, much like Edgecombe's damned face. Hers, though, will take far longer to heal."

"Anyway," says Lupin, "we'll negotiate your timetables for the rest of this year. Might be a bit awkward with some shuffling around, but it's for your benefit. Have a good dinner!"

As Lupin walks down the aisle, Harry turns to look at Hermione. "So, um, I don't wanna use you to show off or anything but... would you mind—"

"Consider it a yes," says Hermione, "And I don't give a crap about what anyone else thinks. Ron?"

"I'm sitting by Lavender," he replies, "You go ahead and stick it to the bad Slytherins."

The group of seven now make their way to the end of the Slytherin table; a spot that Harry's sorely missed over this entire year. Now it's Millicent, Tracey, and Daphne sitting with their backs to the Gryffindor table while Sally-Anne, Pansy, Harry, and Hermione sit facing them.

"This feels so strange," says Hermione, especially as she notes the countless heads turned her way. "Feels great, actually!"

"Embrace your naughty side, Granger, that's a good snuggle Muggle wuggle," says Pansy. Harry, meanwhile, leans forward while looking to his right and down the Slytherin table. His brows raised as if challenging anyone to speak out.

As expected, the anti-Potter minority stab their forks while eating; their expressions conveying nothing but the utmost disgust at Hermione's presence. But it's not all doom and gloom, however, as many friendly faces seem relatively unfazed by a Muggleborn at their table. Amongst the friendly crowd is Irma Flint, who happily waves at Harry.

Minutes later sees a few Daily Prophet owls swooping down upon the tables. Their presence at dinner suggests today's arrival of an Evening Prophet, which doesn't always happen.

"The Evening Prophet!" says Tracey, "Cool! I guess there's news they were just so darn eager to print out. Paper's quite thin, though; I wonder why they didn't just leave it for tomorrow morning?"

"Oh my God," sighs Hermione, having already finished reading the front page article of her newspaper. "This is never going to end. We are never ever gonna hear the end of this from Harry..."

She then proceeds to loudly re-read the article entitled HARRY POTTER: THE CHOSEN ONE which speculates about last night's battle involving an alleged prophecy between Harry and Voldemort. Although details are extremely vague, they're enough to have the general public believe in this new title. Harry, meanwhile, adopts a smile so smug that all his girls sit with head in hands. He then stuffs food in his mouth as everyone in the Great Hall glances more than a few times at him. Soon, Hermione balls her first while looking at Harry.

"Will you stop eating so darn loud already? Really!"

"The Chosen One does not chew with his mouth closed."

"Oh my gosh," sighs Pansy, before letting out a loud groan against her hand. "Kritz-kritz-kritz in my ears all night long!"

They may act annoyed, but it's clear that the girls have truly missed their Harry. The latter savours his dinner while basking in the countless students hurrying over to speak with him. Eventually, once their bellies are full, students begin filing out the Great Hall. Harry, however, politely apologizes to his group.

"Could you tell all my fellow loyal Slytherins that I'll be spending the night at Gryffindor?"

"The what now?" asks Millicent, whose expression of shock is shared throughout the group. "Oh, I see, you're wanting to fraternize with the enemy..."

"Enough of that rubbish," replies Harry, "I'm done insulting Gryffindor; and you can thank Hermione for that."

"Forever so dramatic," says Hermione, hooking her arm around Harry's. "You do know that we almost never allow others into our common room, right? It's a tradition of Hogwarts, as outlined in—"

"Hogwarts, A History," recites Pansy. "Yes, we are all well aware of that... Polyjuice Babe."

"But I fought off and chased away Voldemort from the Ministry," says Harry, as the group walks across the entrance hall. "That's bravery worthy of a Gryffindor."

"Yeah," says Daphne, "You're a bloody Scarlet Snake now, boy. Spy on them Lions good for us, alright?"

Harry laughs while climbing the staircase alongside Hermione; both heading towards the seventh floor of the castle.