Back to Witches and Wizards and Magical Beasts
The weather did not improve as they neared Hogwarts. Rain would spatter the windows half-heartedly, then disappear in favour of a feeble ray of sunlight. Seconds later, however, the rain would reappear again. By the time darkness fell and lamps came on inside the carriages, they had changed into their uniforms.
Harry found himself sitting with his forehead pressed against the window, trying to get a first distant glimpse of Hogwarts. He already knew his efforts would be in vain - it was a moonless night and the rain-streaked window was grimy - but that didn't stop him from trying. He knew Ginny was sitting silently beside him even before she spoke. He seemed to be very keenly aware of her presence at all times, these days.
"Penny for your thoughts?" she asked him quietly.
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, not quite sure whether he should tell her the honest truth. When their eyes met, however, he knew the words would come tumbling out.
"Just remembering," he said just as quietly. "The school used to be my home, oh, about a hundred years ago now. But when everything happened ... Well, let's just say I'm in two minds about being back."
She smiled gently and lean forward to wrap her arms around one of his, and rested her chin on his shoulder. "Just remember you're not facing it alone. We're all here with you. I'm here with you."
"You're here with Michael Corner," Harry muttered. She went to move away, but he lay a hand gently on her knee and squeezed it. "I'm sorry, Gin. That was uncalled for."
She sighed. "But that doesn't make it any less true."
As the train began to slow, the racket out in the corridor began to increase exponentially as everyone scrambled to get their luggage and pets together, ready to disembark. Ron and Hermione were out in the corridor, doing what they could to supervise this, though there was no making order of this madness. Lucky for all of them, Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, had taken somewhat of a shine to Lily. He allowed her to pick him up off the floor, holding him tight in her arms. Pigwidgeon, of course, was another story.
"I'll take that owl, if you like," Luna said, reaching out for the cage.
"Oh. Uh, thanks, Luna," Harry said, handing her the cage and hoisting Hedwig's more securely into his arms. To his children, he said, "You good, Al? Lily?"
"Yep," Al said, dragging his trunk behind him.
"Uh, yeah," Lily said a little awkwardly.
While Luna and Neville headed down the corridor, Harry found himself pausing in the carriage doorway. He glanced to Ginny, shrugging. She rolled her eyes in response - he might be the adult in this situation, but he was still a typical dad. The man had no idea about anything.
"Lily?" Ginny asked gently. "Is everything -"
"- It's just, I kindofdon'thaveanything," the girl said quickly.
Ginny frowned, then asked, "You don't have what, Lily?"
Blinking back tears, Lily said, "Anything."
"Anything?" Harry asked. "What -"
"- I managed to get my hands on a set of robes," Lily told them. "But, I don't have ..."
Almost as a reflex, Ginny found herself pulling the girl into a hug. Gently, she said, "Don't worry, Lily. We'll get you sorted. We just need to get to the Castle first."
They shuffled out of the compartment feeling the first sting of the night air on their faces as they joined the crowd in the corridor. Slowly, they moved towards the doors. Harry could smell the pine trees that lined the path down to the lake. It was almost too familiar for his liking. It reminded him of the time before war. Of course, this was the time before the war.
He stepped down onto the platform and looked around, listening for Hagrid's familiar voice. But the man was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a quite brisk female voice was calling out, "First-years line up over here, please! All first-years to me!"
It took Harry a minute to recognise the prominent chin and severe haircut of Professor Grubbly-Plank.
"Where's Hagrid?" Lily asked, approaching her father with a frown. "Where is he?"
"I don't know," Ginny said, lugging her trunk out of the train with great difficulty. "We'd better move, though. We're blocking the door."
"Oh, yeah..." Harry muttered.
By some minor miracle, Harry, Ginny, Lily and Al managed to stay together as they moved along the platform and out through the station. Harry kept squinting through the darkness for a glimpse of Hagrid. He had to see him - seeing Hagrid on the platform was the one thing that never failed to remind him he was home. It was one fo the things he looked forward to the most. But there was no sign of him.
"He can't have gone, right?" Lily asked Ginny as they shuffled through a narrow doorway to the road outside with the rest of the students. "He wouldn't leave without telling anyone."
"He'll be fine, Lily," he heard Ginny reassuring her.
He went to say something to his daughter, to reassure her that Hagrid was, in fact, okay, but the expression on his son's face stopped him from saying anything at all. In front of them stood a hundred or so horseless stagecoaches that always took the students above first year up to the castle. Harry glanced at them out of the corner of his eyes, then did a double-take. It suddenly occurred to him why Al looked so pale.
The coaches were not horseless. They never had been. Al was seeing Thestrals for the very first time.
"... Dad?" he asked hesitantly, his voice barely audible.
"Don't be afraid of them, Al," Harry said comfortingly. He put an arm around Al's shoulders and said, "They're really gentle creatures."
Still staring at the Thestral with fear in his eyes, Al said, "But why can I see them?"
Ginny frowned, approaching the boys with Lily and Neville in tow. "See what?"
"It's nothing," Harry said, smiling to divert their attention. "Let's get a carriage, yeah?"
He headed for the nearest carriage, standing by the door as Ginny and the kids climbed in. In the distance, he could see Ron and Hermione emerging from the crowd. He waved a hand in the air to get their attention. As they approached, Harry began to realise just how tense he was.
"Where's Pig?" Ron asked.
"Luna's got him," Harry said. "There she is. Hey! Luna! Over here!"
Ron shot him a funny look as he called out of her, but Harry didn't pay him any attention.
As he climbed into the carriage after Al, Ron asked, "Where d'you reckon Hagrid is?"
"He's fine," Harry said distractedly.
"Yeah, but where -"
"- Where's Hermione?" Harry cut over his best friend.
Ron looked to Al, who shrugged. "He's got a one-track mind when he's on mission. You kind of get used to it."
"Hagrid is fine, though. Right?" Ron asked, concern written all over his face.
"Still famous for his awful cooking," Al confirmed happily. "And showing truly poor judgement when it comes to creatures."
Outside the carriage, they heard Harry sigh, "There she is."
They heard Hermione speaking before they saw her. "Malfoy was being absolutely foul to a first-year back there. I swear I'm going to report him, he's only had his badge three minutes and he's using it to bully people worse than ever." As she climbed into the carriage, she added, "Where's Crookshanks?"
"Right here," Lily said, appearing behind her with Ginny and Luna in tow.
"Oh, thanks," Hermione said, still a little uncomfortable with Lily.
"Here you are," Luna said, passing Pigwidgeon's cage to Ron. "He's a sweet little owl, isn't he?"
"Er, yeah," Ron said awkwardly. "I guess."
As Harry climbed into the carriage and sat down beside Al, his son asked, "What are those things?"
"What things?" Ginny asked, closing the door of the carriage.
Al shrugged. "The horse things pulling the carriages."
Ron gave his nephew a perplexed look. "What are you talking about?"
Quietly, Harry said, "They can't see them."
"See what, Harry?" Hermione asked, frowning.
"The thestrals," Luna said in a dreamy voice. To Al, she added, "You're not going mad, or anything. I can see them, too."
"Can you?" Al said desperately, looking at Luna with something suspiciously like hope in his eyes.
"Oh yes," she said. "I've been able to see them ever since my first day here. They've always pulled the carriages. Don't worry. You're just as sane as I am."
Not overly reassured, Al looked back to his father who shrugged. There was clearly more to be said, but this wasn't the time or the place to be saying it. Instead, Harry and Al sat side-by-side, resolutely looking anywhere but at the other occupants of the carriage.
"Did everyone see that Grubbly-Plank woman?" Ginny asked, realising someone needed to change the subject before anyone caught on that something seriously weird was happening here. "What's she doing back here? Hagrid hasn't left. Has he?"
The last question was directed very deliberately toward Harry. He looked anywhere but at her, deliberately keeping himself out of this conversation. He knew exactly where Hagrid was, of course - but there was no way he could have known about it yet.
"I'll be quite glad if he has," Luna said. "He isn't a very good teacher, is he?"
"Yes, he is!" Ron, Ginny, Al and Lily all said angrily.
If anyone noticed their new 'transfer students' acting oddly, no one said anything. They were too distracted by Luna, who said, "Well, we in Ravenclaw think he's a bit of a joke."
"You've got a rubbish sense of humour then," Ron snapped.
Just as Harry remembered from the first time, Luna wasn't bothered in the slightest by Ron's rude outburst. She seemed content to watch him for a while as though he were a mildly interesting television programme.
As the carriage travelled through Hogsmeade and toward the school grounds, Harry found himself getting more and more tense. It certainly wasn't his first visit back to castle since the events of the end of the war, but that didn't make it any easier. Especially since now, from this point of view, the war was still to come.
Beside him, Al locked eyes with his sister and his mother. Wordlessly, Ginny pulled herself out of her seat and manoeuvred herself across the carriage, swapping places with Al so that she was now seated on Harry's left. Without so much as taking his eyes off the window he'd been staring out during their journey, Harry reached over and grasped her hand tightly in his own.
"It's okay," she murmured just loud enough for him alone to hear. "I've got you."
As they passed between the tall stone pillars topped with winged boards on either side of the gates to the school grounds, Harry's whole demeanour changed. Where he had once leaned forward to try and see wether there were any lights on in Hagrid's cabin by the Forbidden Forest, he now sat with his eyes closed and muscles rigid, one hand gripping Ginny's for dear life and the other gripping his wand to tightly his knuckles were white.
"D -" Lily began, but glares from Ginny, Ron and Hermione quickly had her stopping herself mid-word. Awkwardly, she said, "Uh, Harry? Is everything, um, you know ..."
It took him a few seconds, but eventually he let out a deep breath and opened his eyes. "I'm fine, I promise."
"You don't make promises," she countered in exactly the way James had several weeks before.
"I do now."
Luna and Neville looked interestedly between Harry and Lily, both knowing there was something significant going on here, but neither able to understand just what was actually being said. All the while, Hogwarts Castle loomed ever closer: a towering mass of turrets, jet black against the dark sky, here and there a window blazing fiery bright above them.
Mercifully, the carriage jingled to a halt at the stone steps leading up to the oak front doors. Harry took a deep, steadying breath, then found himself the first to climb out of the carriage.
Ignoring what was happening behind him, he found himself reaching out to gently pet the strange, skeletal-looking thestral standing quietly in the chill night air. The thestral looked back at him, its blank white eyes gleaming in the moonlight.
Beside him, Ron shot him a worried glance.
"They're peaceful creatures," Harry said quietly. "Friendly, even."
"Sure," Ron said, clearly unconvinced. "But - and don't take this the wrong way, mate - but from where I'm standing, there's nothing there."
Harry sighed in a way that suddenly reminded Ron he was a grown man, not the teenager he appeared to be. With resignation in his voice, Harry said, "You'll see them soon enough."
When Harry moved toward the castle, Ron found himself calling out, "What does that mean?"
It was Al who gave him the very unwelcome answer. Approaching his uncle with his sister by his side, he said, "You can only see thestrals if you've seen death."
"Death?" Ron echoed, his jaw slightly slack. "As in - you mean -"
"- Death," Al repeated, staring into the thestral's eyes.
Hermione appeared then, with concern written all over her face. "Al, you're not saying -"
"- Actually, Aunt Hermione," he said, dropping his voice so only they could hear him, "yes, I am."
"But Harry said it's all over," she countered.
Al nodded. "It is. But ... well, last year I, uh ..." He floundered for a minute, before he sighed. "It's complicated."
Inside the castle, the Entrance Hall was ablaze with torches and echoing with footsteps as the students crossed the flagged stone floor for the double doors to the right, leading to the Great Hall and the start-of-term feast.
The four long house tables in the Great Hall were filling up under the starless black ceiling, which was just like the sky they could glimpse through the high windows. Candles floated in midair all along the tables, illuminating the silvery ghosts who were dotted about the Hall and the faces of the students talking eagerly, exchanging summer news, shouting greetings at friends from other houses, eyeing one another's new haircuts and robes.
About halfway down the Gryffindor table, James was talking animatedly with Lee Jordan and the Weasley twins. Harry had a small surge in pride when he saw his son wave a hand at some fellow students, who shrugged and continued further along the table.
"Hey, Al!" James called happily, waving his brother over. "Over here!"
Al, Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Neville all took seats in the area the others had clearly been saving for them. Harry clapped James on the shoulder good-naturedly and said, "We'll be back in a minute, yeah?"
James' jaw dropped when he turned around and saw his sister. "What - Lily?"
Without so much as batting an eyelid, she reached out and flicked his ear in a way she knew would hurt. .Through clenched teeth, she hissed, "Hi, jerk. Thanks for getting me sent back in time. I really loved my summer at the Manor."
James frowned at Al, asking, "What was she doing at the Manor?"
"I dunno, do I? It was your good-for-nothing spell!" Al retorted.
"Boys..."
Harry inclined his head toward the staff table, silently indicating for Lily to follow him. Ginny's words - probably something to the effect of 'knock it off,' or 'you'll get yourselves killed' - faded away as they headed toward the staff table. Harry couldn't help but notice people putting their heads together to whisper as he passed. He made a point of holding his head high and not looking at anyone, making it very clear to everyone that he really didn't care. Lily, however, couldn't help but feel uncomfortable at the amount of eyes suddenly on them.
As they approached the head table, Harry made eye contact with Professor McGonagall. The look on his face must have said it all - she met them as they hit the three stairs separating the head table from the four house tables.
"Potter," Professor McGonagall said, approaching them cautiously.
"Minerva," he greeted her, forgetting where they were for a moment. "Uh - Professor McGonagall. Sorry."
The usually stoic Head of Gryffindor house was taken aback for a moment, but she recovered quickly. Observing Lily closely, she said, "Am I to assume this is the ... daughter Albus had mentioned?"
Lily stepped forward, a hand outstretched. Happily, she said, "I'm Lily. Really looking forward to Transfiguration class, Professor. I'm the one Potter who won't wind up in your bad books."
"Prewett," Harry and Professor McGonagall said quickly.
"Oh, right. Prewett, then."
Minerva McGonagall looked over her shoulder quickly, looking to see if the first-years had arrived from their trip across the Great Lake. Distractedly, she told Harry and Lily, "Right. Ms Prewett. A bed will be made available for you in Gryffindor Tower. I'll sort out your class schedule in the morning."
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said.
She nodded to him curtly, and then she was gone.
Back at the table, Harry slipped into a seat between Ron and Neville. On the other side of the table, Lily sat between her brothers.
"Hagrid's not here," Ron told Harry anxiously. "He can't have left. Right?"
"Of course he hasn't," Harry said firmly.
Quietly, Hermione asked him, "He's not hurt, or anything, is he?"
"No," Harry said. "He's fine, Hermione. It's just temporary."
"But where is he, then?"
Harry didn't have a chance to tell her he couldn't say anymore. James leaned across the table, saying, "I have a better question for you. Who's that?"
Harry knew what he was going to see even before his eyes travelled in the direction his son was pointing. He first saw Professor Dumbledore, sitting in his high-backed golden chair at the centre of the long staff table, wearing deep-purple robes scattered with silvery stars and a matching hat. Dumbledore's head was inclined towards the woman sitting next to him, who was talking into his ear.
The Ministry Hag. She was squat, with short, curly, mouse-brown hair with an awful pink headband that matched the fluffy pink cardigan she was wearing over her robes. When she turned her face slightly to take a sip from her goblet, he saw the toadlike face and prominent, pouchy eyes that he'd left behind in another lifetime.
"Umbridge," he groaned.
"Who?" Lily asked, as Al said, "I've never heard you talk about her before."
"When does he talk about anything?" James demanded of his brother, who waved a hand at him tiredly.
"She works for Fudge," Harry told Hermione, who frowned.
"What on earth is she doing here, then?"
Ron, however, just smirked. "Nice cardigan."
Lily agreed with her uncle, adding, "Some people have no taste."
"No," Hermione said, finally tearing her eyes away from the staff table. Looking to Harry with concern, she said, "Surely not."
He just shrugged.
"That's -"
"- Don't, Hermione," he said tiredly. Rubbing a hand on his temple again, he added, "Just ... please. Not tonight."
Hermione looked at him with concern, but she'd got the message. She said no more on the topic, though. Instead, they watched a long line of scared-looking first-years follow Professor McGonagall through the Great Hall. When they arrived at the very front of the Hall, the buzz of talk faded away. The first-years lined up in front of the staff table facing the rest of the students. Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat and its stool carefully in front of them, then stood back.
The whole school waited with bated breath. When the rip near the hat's brim opened wide like a mouth, the Sorting Hat burst into song:
In time of old when I was new
And Hogwarts barely started
The founders of our noble school
Thought never to be parted:
United by a common goal,
They had the selfsame yearning,
To make the world's best magic school
And pass along their learning.
'Together we will build and teach!'
The four good friends decided
And never did they dream that they
Might some day be divided,
For were there such friends anywhere
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?
Unless it was the second pair
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?
So how could it have gone so wrong?
How could such friendships fail?
Why, I was there and so can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale.
Said Slytherin, 'We'll teach just those
Whose ancestry is purest.'
Said Ravenclaw, 'We'll teach those whole
Intelligence is surest.'
Said Gryffindor, 'We'll teach all those
With brave deeds to their name.'
Said Hufflepuff, 'I'll teach the lot,
And treat them all the same.'
These differences caused little strife
When first they came to light,
For each of the four founders had
A house in which they might
Take only those they wanted, so,
For instance, Slytherin
Took only pure-blood wizards
Of great cunning, just like him
And only those of sharpest mind
Were taught by Ravenclaw
While the bravest and the boldest
Went to daring Gryffindor.
Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,
And taught them all she knew,
Thus the houses and their founders
Retained friendships firm and true.
So Hogwarts worked in harmony
For several happy years,
But then discord crept among us
Feeding on our faults and fears.
The houses that, like pillars four,
Had once held up our school,
Now turned upon each other and,
Divided, sought to rule.
And for a while it seemed the school
Must meet an early end,
What with duelling and with fighting
And the clash of friend on friend
And at last there came a morning
When old Slytherin departed
And though the fighting then died out
He left us quite downhearted.
And never since the founders four
Were whittled down to three
Have the houses been united
As they once were meant to be.
And now the Sorting Hat is here
And you all know the score:
I sort you into houses
Because that is what I'm for,
But this year I'll go further,
Listen closely to my song:
Though condemned I am to split you
Still I worry that it's wrong,
Though I must fulfil my duty
And must quarter every year
Still I wonder whether Sorting
May not bring the end I fear.
Oh, know the perils, read the signs,
The warning history shows,
For our Hogwarts is in danger
From external, deadly foes
And we must unite inside her
Or we'll crumble from within
I have told you, I have warned you ...
Let the Sorting now begin.
Three sets of young Potter eyes looked at Harry. James was frowning, Al was thoughtful, and Lily - well, she was just confused. As applause broke out around them (thought it was punctuated with muttering and whispers), she asked hesitantly, "Dad?"
"There's a lot you don't know," Harry told the three of them. "I promise I will explain everything. Just, after the feast."
Oblivious as always, Ron said conversationally, "Branched out a bit this year, hasn't it?"
It was the first time they had heard the Sorting Hat give a warning. It was sobering, to say the least - even for Harry, who knew it was coming.
"I wonder if it's ever given warnings before?" Hermione said, anxious.
"Yes, indeed," Nearly Headless Nick said knowledgeably, leaning across James towards her.
"Urgh, Nick!" James excalimed, leaning back as far as he could to get out of the ghost's way. It was incredibly uncomfortable, after all, to have a ghost lean through you.
Nick paused, throwing him a look.
"Uh - hi," James said awkwardly. "I'm James. H-Harry's, uh, told me a lot about you."
"Mhmm," Nick said, very unconvinced. Turning back to Hermione, he said, "The Hat feels itself honour-bound to give the school due warning whenever it feels -"
Nick looked up then, seeing the warning look Professor McGonagall was throwing the students. He placed a transparent finger to his lips and sat primly upright again, watching patiently as the Sorting began.
Harry zoned out for most of the Sorting. The longer they were there, the more tense he got. He was sitting uncomfortably close to the spot in the very centre of the Great Hall where he had faced Lord Voldemort for the final time nearly twenty-three years ago. He did everything in his power to take a deep breath in, and force the air out. He kept running his mantra through his head: I'm not fifteen. I live in a big, blue house out in the countryside with my wife and my kids. My kids are going to be fine. They are going to keep their heads down, and study, and come out of this unscathed. We are all going to be okay.
As the last of the first-years was Sorted into Hufflepuff, Professor McGonagall picked up the Hat and stool and marched them away as Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet. Whatever complicated feelings might be running through his head, the sight of Dumbledore standing before them all was soothing. Harry closed his eyes and waited for his mentor to speak. Across the table, his kids were staring up at the headmaster with wonderment and awe in their eyes.
"To our newcomers," Dumbledore said in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "welcome! To our old hands - welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"
Harry had to stop himself from laughing out loud as Ron let out an audible groan at the sight of the food appearing on the table. The five long tables were groaning under plates of pies and dishes of vegetables, bread and sauces and flagons of pumpkin juice.
"Excellent," James said, rubbing his hands together in glee. It was comical, the sight of James and Ron in perfect unison, both picking up the nearest plates of food and piling them onto their plates, watched wistfully by Nearly Headless Nick.
"So, uh, Sir de Mimsy-Porpington," Al said, dishing some mashed potatoes onto his plate like a civilised human. "You were saying something about the Hat giving warnings?"
"Oh, yes," Nick said, turning to look Al in the eye. "Yes, I was ..."
"Al. Al Prewett."
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," Nick said. Turning back to the topic at hand, he continued, "I have heard the Hat give several warnings before, always at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: stand together, be strong from within."
"Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?" Ron said, his mouth full of food.
"I beg your pardon?" Nick said politely, while Hermione threw him a disgusted look.
Ron, however, gave an enormous swallow and said, "How can it know if the school's in danger if it's a Hat?"
"Well, it lives in the Headmaster's office, right?" Al said. "One would think it probably picks things up there."
Lily frowned. "I think a better question is why do we need to be told to stand together?"
Harry sighed. "This is a different world, Lily. It's ... complicated."
"So that's why Al's here, then."
Ron frowned at Harry. "What does that mean?"
"Oh, him?" James said conversationally. "Oh, he's a sn -"
Harry picked up a bread roll and pegged it at James' head. "I've already warned you about that, James. Do it again and I swear to God I will set your moth -"
"- Hey, Harry," Fred said, leaning over toward them and intentionally raising his voice to cut Harry off. "Can you pass me the the potatoes?"
Harry forced himself to take a deep breath and paint a smile on his face. He picked up the dish and passed it to Fred, giving him a friendly nod.
"So the Hat wants all the houses to be friends?" Ron said. He glanced to the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was holding court. "Fat chance."
"Well, now you shouldn't take that attitude," Nick said reprovingly. "Peaceful co-operation, that's the key. We ghosts, though we belong to separate houses, maintain links of friendship. In spit of the competitiveness between Gryffindor and Slytherin, I would never dream of seeking an argument with the Bloody Baron."
"Tried it once," James muttered into his goblet. "It's not worth it."
Missing this, Ron scoffed to Nick, "Only because you're terrified of him."
Nearly Headless Nick recoiled, affronted. "Terrified? I hope I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs in my veins -"
"- Blood?" said Ron. "Surely you haven't still got -?"
"- It's a figure of speech!" Nick cried, floating up in the air. "I assume I am still allowed to enjoy the use of whichever words I like, even if the pleasures of eating and drinking are denied me! But I am quite used to students poking fun at my death, I assure you!"
"Nick, he wasn't -"
Unfortunately for them all, Hermione's protests fell on deaf ears. Nick floated away, straightening his feathered hat and swept away from them to the other end of the table, coming to rest between the Creevey brothers, Colin and Dennis. While Ron and Hermione kept up an argument over Ron's unacceptable behaviour ("What? I'm not allowed to ask a simple question?"), Harry found himself unable to tear his eyes away from Colin Creevey.
In another lifetime, Harry would have dug in to the steak and kidney pie he'd heaped onto his plate, then he'd been working his way through a large plateful of his favourite treacle tart. Tonight, however, he wanted to do nothing more than get the hell out of there. Just as he got to the point of needing to get the hell out of there, Dumbledore rose to his feet once more. The talking around them ceased immediately, and Harry found himself locking eyes with the Headmaster. With one nod of his head, Dumbledore managed to calm Harry down again.
"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," the Headmaster said. "First-years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students - and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too." (Harry did not fail to notice James and Lily exchanging smirks. They would definitely be talking about that later).
"Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred-and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr Filch's office door." (Three sets of Potter eyes landed on the Weasley twins after that one).
"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."
Though Ron and Hermione both sent him slightly panicked looks - Dumbledore hadn't said how long Grubbly-Plank would be teaching, after all - he was doing everything in his power now to send a death glare in the Ministry Hag's direction. A bright pink movement out of the corner of his eyes caught Harry's attention as Dumbledore went to continue on with his speech, and he had to stop himself from going for his wand. There was a moment when nobody quite understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then that distinctive "Hem hem," rang out and made him shudder. He would never forget that little noise. A very cynical part of his mind took a moment to wonder whether it would be a whole new part of his ever-increasing nightmares.
Around the Great Hall, the students were locking eyes with their friends. None were sure what was happening. All they knew was that this was highly unusual. Nobody interrupts Professor Dumbledore, after all. The staff, on the other hand, did not hide their disapproval nearly as well as Professor Dumbledore, who sat down smartly and looked alertly to the woman in pink - Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair and Professor McGonagall's mouth was as thin as anyone had ever seen it. (Which, when you considered Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley's exploits - let alone those of their children twenty years from now - was really saying something).
"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."
Harry couldn't help but actually shudder at the sound of her high-pitched voice. Hermione and Ron both looked at him with concern, but he didn't acknowledge them. Instead, he focused very hard on a brick in the wall just above toad-face's head. From the outside, it appeared as though he were watching her. In reality, however, he was again repeating a mantra in his head.
I survived her once. I will survive her again.
She gave another throat clearing cough ("hem hem") and continued. "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!"
On the other side of the table, James, Al and Lily frowned at each other. In unison, they muttered disbelievingly, "Seriously?"
Around them, Harry knew none of the students looked happy. He remembered this part quite distinctly. In fact, most of his classmates looked rather taken-aback at being addressed as though they were five years old.
"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"
Harry found himself doing his best to ignore the horrified looks the Wesley twins were shooting at him from across the table. Though he was still staring straight ahead, he couldn't help but catch sight of them pretending to vomit all over the table. Like many of the students around them, Harry found himself barely concealing a grin.
Distinctly, Harry heard Ginny - who was sitting on with her friends several feet away - say, "I'd really rather not."
"I'll be her friend as long as I don't have to borrow that cardigan," Parvati Patil whispered to Lavender Brown, who fell into a silent fit of giggles.
Professor Umbridge cleared her throat again ("hem hem"), but when she continued, some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike and now her words had a dull learned-by-heart sound to them.
"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."
She paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members. It escaped no-one's notice that none of the teachers acknowledged what was supposed to be a sign of respect. In fact, Professor McGonagall's dark eyebrows had contracted so that she looked positively hawklike. It reminded James of the first time he'd been caught sneaking into the Chamber of Secrets as a third year. The future Headmistress did not buy his excuse that he just wanted to observe the skeleton of the basilisk for himself, in person. (She'd been even less happy when, six months later, he was caught again. Apparently she did not believe he had an interest in amateur archeology. And, she'd very quickly pointed out, he definitely did not seek approval for an archehaeological dig on a historically significant site.)
"Hem hem. Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and chance, between tradition and innovation..."
Around the Great Hall, students attention was no longer on this bland speech. Over on the Ravenclaw table, Cho Chang was chatting animatedly with her friends. A few seats away from them, Luna Lovegood had got out The Quibbler again. Meanwhile, at the Hufflepuff table, Ernie McMillan was one of the few still appearing to be listening. But he was glassy-eyed - how much he was actually taking in would be debatable.
From where Harry was sitting - doing his best to continue staring at that same brick in the wall just above his head - it looked like the only students still truly concentrating on the speech were himself, Hermione and - oddly - his own three children.
"... because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgement. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what out to be preserves, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."
When she finally sat down, Professor Dumbledore got the attention back to the right place by clapping. Maybe half a dozen students joined in, but they clapped twice and stopped. By the time the Headmaster was on his feet again, all eye were back on him.
"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he said, bowing to her. "Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held ..."
"Yes, it certainly was illuminating," Hermione said in a low voice.
"You're not telling me you enjoyed it?" Ron said quietly, turning a glazed face towards Hermione. "That was about the dullest speech I've ever heard, and I grew up with Percy."
"Oh, just you wait," Harry said with a sigh. "On the other side of this madness ... Well, by the end of it we'd turned it into a drinking game. Every time you're mentioned, you take a swig. Speaking of which, I could really use some firewhiskey right about now..."
She looked at Harry with serious concern, but Hermione's words were directed toward Ron. "I said illuminating, not enjoyable. It certainly explains a lot."
"Did it?" Ron responded. "Sounded like a load of waffle to me."
"There was some important points hidden in all the waffle," Harry said grimly.
"Was there?" Ron said blankly.
Hermione jumped in here. "How about: 'progress for progress's sake must be discouraged'? How about: 'pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited'?"
"Well, what does that mean?" Ron asked, impatient as always.
Hermione looked to Harry, as though waiting for him to confirm what she had already surmised. He gave her one nod, and her shoulders sagged. To Ron, he said, "It means the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts."
In the chaos and noise of the great clattering and banging all around them that signified Dumbledore's dismissing the school, three very confused sets of eyes landed on Harry. Al, James and Lily all opened their mouths to say something, but Harry merely held up a hand. They fell silent again then, waiting for him to speak.
"We will talk later."
"But -"
"- No 'buts,'" he said, rising from his own seat. "We're not going to do this here."
He made to leave them then, walking past Ron and Hermione who were trying to round up the first-years ("Hey - hey, you lot! Midgets!" "Ron!" "Well, they are, they're titchy ..." "I know, but you can't call them midgets!"). As he passed the shy looking group that approached, he felt someone fall into step beside him.
"I'm sorry I left you with the kids," Ginny said. "My friends sort of dragged me into a seat."
"It's no bother, really," Harry said. He was doing his best to ignore the whispering, staring and pointing that was happening as he passed. He kept his eyes fixed ahead as they wove their way through the crowd in the Entrance Hall.
"Is everything -?"
"I'm fine, Ginny," he insisted automatically.
He heard the annoyed noise she made in the back of her throat, but he didn't say anything. They walked side-by-side up the marble white staircase, took a couple of concealed short cuts and quickly found themselves having left most of the crowds behind.
He paused as they reached the end of the corridor to the Gryffindor common room. They hadn't quite reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, but that almost didn't matter. He didn't know the password.
"Uh ..." he said glumly.
"No password, no entrance," she said loftily.
Harry sighed in defeat.
Behind him, Ginny asked, "So are you ready to talk now?"
He took a couple of steps and leant back against the wall, sinking to the ground so his back was against it. Wordlessly, Ginny sat herself next to him and waited.
"We've had hundreds of passwords over the years," Harry said quietly. "Of all the things I don't quite remember, that's what I'm worried about. I can't remember the damn password."
Ginny said nothing. Right now, he just needed her to listen.
He drew a shuddery breath and whispered, "All it will take is one detention. Lily will stick up for someone when things start going sideways. And Al? He'll say something he knows is true, but she won't believe him. As for James - well, he'll make some smart-ass comment, or skip class. The same kind of crap he pulls at home. But this time, it won't just be Minerva chewing him out. It won't just be Nev making him wash the dishes down in the kitchens, or run punishment laps."
Willing himself not to let the tears spill out of his eyes, he said, "It'll be her. Her and that damned quill."
Without even realising she was doing it, Ginny found herself rubbing the back of his left hand comfortingly. She looked down, fully expecting to see the faded lines of the words I must not tell lies staring back at her. To her shock, however, his hand was perfectly intact.
"She's not touching our kids, Harry," she told him quietly and determinedly. "Or you."
He sighed. "It has to happen, Gin. I happened once, and it'll happen again."
"Or what?" she countered.
"You and I both know what happens when you mess with the timeline. The boys — they almost erased themselves out of existence."
"We'll be more careful."
"No, we won't," he said. "Sure, we'll learn from our mistakes. But I can't rewrite history. I can't risk the future. Their future."
It was her turn to sigh now. She dropped her head onto his shoulder and said wistfully, "I wish we could."
"Me too, Gin. Me too."