This chapter is dedicated to Ddraig, a fine chap I encountered at one point.
Harry held the Prefect badge in his hand, pondering what it meant for the year.
Everything was packed and they were ready to depart Grimmauld Place to head to King's Cross station in very shortly.
Yesterday had marked when the letters were supposed to be received, which was very surprising when his had the fifth year Prefect badge for him. That alone wasn't the surprising part, but the lack of hostility from Ron who simply congratulated him and said he earned it.
Shaking his head at remembering yesterday, he put the badge back in his trunk, knowing probably why Dumbledore had him be this year's Prefect.
Showing a desire to better himself was just part of it, the other part likely being that a Prefect leading the study group for defense would be harder for Umbridge to complain about.
Harry was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door.
"Come in."
The door opened and Sirius came in, looking nervous.
"Hey, Harry." He said quietly.
Harry got up and looked straight into his godfather's eyes, seeing how uncomfortable he was.
"Hey, Padfoot." He smiled.
Shifting his stance somewhat, Sirius started speaking. "Got used to you being around and now your off to school. Feels strange." He added the last part absent-mindedly.
Harry rolled his eyes slightly. "You gave me that mirror, remember?" Harry reminded him, said mirror being in his trunk with a cushioning charm on it.
"I know," Sirius said, "But still."
Harry stepped forward and gave Sirius a hug, reassuring him that everything was ok.
"Don't worry, Sirius, everything's fine. I'm obviously coming back for winter break."
Sirius patted his shoulder and let him go, grin on his face.
"You sure you don't want me going with you?" he asked, "I can go as Padfoot." He offered.
Harry scowled at Sirius offering that again.
"Your trial is in a week, I don't need you doing something stupid," Harry said sternly, "Read a book or something, or better yet, train some so you can kick my arse next time."
Sirius snorted at the last part, but nodded his understanding. "Alright, alright, I'll behave. Merlin, that Prefect badge has turned you into Remus, I swear. I've failed, Prongs," He looked up with false despair, "He's succumbed to being responsible."
Harry shook his head at his godfather's antics, knowing he'd be dramatic for effect.
He turned to grab his trunk and did so after shrinking it, putting it in his jacket pocket.
The two of them left the room and went down the stairs to meet up with everyone else, the Weasley kids and Hermione already there.
The twins were the first to speaking, both in sync.
"Finally." They said.
"The dog has separation anxiety." Harry shrugged, grinning when he heard Sirius scoff.
Harry looked towards the "escorts" for them, Moody, Tonks and Remus, the latter two smirking at the situation.
"Remus," Harry said, "You sure you're not needed here? We don't want him pissing on the floor."
Sirius shot a glare at Harry, muttering under his breath.
"No more jokes," Moody cut in, "We're on a tight schedule. Arse in front, Potter."
Harry mock saluted the aged Auror. "Sir, yes sir."
Moody snorted and went through the front door, pushing it open and stepping out, bowler hat on his head to cover his eye.
The rest of them followed, with Remus at the back and Tonks in the middle.
Harry gave one last look towards, Grimmauld Place, before turning his sights on the next hurdle he had to get through.
School.
King's Cross, oh how I've missed you. Harry thought, smiling at the entrance to 9 3/4.
Fred and George went first, their trunks being carried by them as they went through.
Ron and Ginny went second, followed shortly by Hermione. Harry sat back for a moment and smiled at Remus and gave Moody a nod, before rushing towards the entrance, disappearing from the sight of his escorts.
After crossing the barrier, he blinked and smiled at the Hogwarts Express, walking briskly to catch up with the others.
He got on the train, grabbing the side rail for support to hoist himself up into the train.
He saw Hermione gesture to speak with him, leaning towards him.
"We'll need to get our robes on and badges, Harry," She said, making her way to an unused compartment, "The Prefect compartment is at the front." She then ducked into the compartment, shutting it closed.
Harry and Ron stood outside awkwardly, making sure no one tried to enter mistakenly.
Ron gave Harry a look, glancing around to make sure no one was within earshot.
"I'm sorry about last year, Harry," He said quietly, taking a deep breath, "I was a bad friend."
Harry raised his brows in surprise at the timing.
"Odd timing," He said unnecessarily, "Why now?"
"This summer, Hermione, me thinking to myself, I don't bloody know," Ron threw his hands up, "I felt like a right bastard and I needed to get it off my chest."
"Language, Ronald." They heard Hermione's muffled voice through the door.
"Hush, disembodied voice," Harry said, "we're talking here."
Harry snickered when he heard a huff of irritation from Hermione.
Harry then turned to Ron, giving him a nod. "Apology accepted." He said simply, looking over Ron's shoulder and spotting Ginny.
Said girl tapped Ron on the shoulder, causing him to turn around. "I found a compartment." She said, pointing towards one.
"Alright," Ron said, following his sister, but turned his head towards Harry and gave him a slight wave.
Harry turned towards the compartment door and saw it creak open a moment later, Hermione coming out with her robes on and badge displayed on the front.
"Your turn." Hermione said simply, walking out of the compartment.
Harry went in and shut the door, pulling his shrunken trunk out and removing the shrinking charm with a flick of his hand, taking out his robes and putting them on. He finished putting the Prefect badge on and left the compartment, dragging the closed trunk behind him.
"Ready?" Hermione asked, glancing at him.
"Yeah." Harry said simply, shifting his grip on the trunk slightly, "To the front?"
Hermione nodded and turned, heading towards the front of the train, Harry following.
They got to the Prefect's compartment and opened it, Harry recognizing a few people, the most noteworthy being Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson.
The latter gave him a scowl, while Malfoy gave a half-hearted, subdued glare, very little heat behind it.
What has him down? Harry thought, confused by the lack of arrogance or confidence in the blond's demeanor.
Shrugging, Harry set his trunk in the storage above their heads and sat down, ignoring the looks he got. Hermione was sat beside him, reading a book.
Harry eventually got bored and sat up, feeling nature's call.
At Hermione's raised brow, Harry answered the unasked question.
"Loo." He said simply, opening the compartment and closing shut after exiting.
He walked down the corridor and got to the bathroom, opening it. He dropped his trousers and heard the door next to him open, which he shrugged off.
He eventually finished his business and washed his hands, opening the room to exit. He was caught off guard when the door next to him opened and someone walked out, straight into him.
His forehead struck the other person's and he stumbled and fell on top of the mysterious person, hearing a soft gasp.
He had his eyes shut and hissed in pain, having thrown his hands out to catch himself.
He was surprised when he felt a soft sensation that was definitely not the ground.
Why does this feel vaguely familiar? He thought to himself, opening his eyes.
What he saw had him gasp in shock.
Long blonde hair, pale face rapidly reddening, and icy blue eyes widened in shock.
Harry's mind was only able to conjure up two words for the situation, specifically where his hands were situated at.
"Oh shit." He stammered, getting off of her.
Daphne jumped up and backed away, her face red and her mouth moving but no words coming out.
Clearing his throat, Harry managed to speak through his shock.
"Greengrass?" he asked, keeping his voice barely steady.
Daphne still looked out of it and wasn't looking him in the eye, before her expression seemed to flatten and she glared at him.
"Watch where you're going, Potter," She said irritably, "You could have hurt me."
"Hurt you?" Harry scoffed, "Your forehead did more damage than a little tumble would have, and thanks, by the way, for cushioning my fall."
Daphne's face turned slightly pink, her eyes looking like they were as cold as a glacier.
"You should feel lucky," She snarked, rubbing her forehead where a mark was left, "That I didn't hex your bits off."
"I stand in awe at your mercy, my lady," He mock bowed, smirking as he made eye contact.
His Occlumency was helping him keep his composure, but he felt that the smile was a fragile one. He needed to keep calm. She was alive. They were alive. He could do this, even if she was pissed at the situation.
"Oh now you're a gentleman after you've had a feel." She said sarcastically, still glaring at him.
"You were the one that walked into me, Ms. Greengrass." He pointed out.
"Ms. Greengrass is it, Heir Black?" She raised a brow.
"I'm certain I wasn't operating in the capacity of the future Lord Black as I was in the loo," Harry said flatly, "I don't need an heir ring to piss whenever I please."
Harry didn't stop there though.
"But you're avoiding denying that you walked into me," Harry gestured to himself, "My hands didn't touch you, you touched my hands. As such, I am entitled to declaring aggrieved status on behalf on the attempt on life."
Daphne's glare intensified with each word he spoke, the sarcasm in his tone could almost be tasted in how thick he was laying it on.
"You felt me up," She growled, her Occlumency slipping slightly, "I didn't hurt you, you probably enjoyed it."
"Again," Harry grinned, eying how she was started to breath heavily, "You're using outrage to detract from the harsh reality that your thick forehead has left me horrifically scarred and maimed." He pointed at the faded scar on his forehead, "I shall carry this mark for the rest of my life."
Daphne loved being sarcastic when she was irritated at someone or about something, but she hated the few times he'd respond in kind and get the better of her.
This was one of those times.
Huffing, Daphne continued to glare at him, a smile dancing on his face.
"This was fun," Harry said brightly, turning around to leave, "We should do this again. First day of Hogsmeade?"
"Wha-" Daphne voiced in a shocked tone, not expecting the turn of events.
"Lunch at Madam Puddifoots? Gotcha. Later, Heiress Greengrass." He gave that last parting shot and rushed away from a completely shocked Daphne Greengrass.
Daphne stood in the corridor of the train for several moments, trying to figure out what the bloody hell just happened.
She'd been talking with Tracey and was thinking through plans on how to broach the topic of speaking to Potter, but she felt the need to use the bathroom. She'd told Tracey and had left to go, finishing up, then walking straight into what felt like a wall, smacking her head against something, then feeling a weight fall on her.
Of course, Harry bloody Potter was on top of her, his hands in a very personal area when he tried to stop his fall.
The ensuing conversation was infuriating, her entire demeanor thrown off by the raven haired boy.
Potter wasn't the skinny, spectacled boy that he was at the end of fourth year, he had filled out and judging by the firmness of his chest, fit.
The fact that she almost got lost in gazing at his eyes, seeming to glow slightly with and emerald fire, unsettled her.
She blinked a few times and shook herself, walking in a daze slightly back to her and Tracey's compartment.
Opening the door, she sat down in her seat, ignoring Tracey's look of question.
"Everything ok, Daph?" Tracey asked, looking concerned at her silence.
Daphne blinked and straightened up. "Yes, I'm fine. Just thinking of things."
Tracey gave her a speculative look, but shrugged and seemed to let it go, for now.
Daphne went back to her thoughts on Potter.
The nerve of him to make light of the situation. How was he, a boy, less embarrassed than she was? How dare he make a joke about going on a date to Hogsmeade? How dare he get the better of her in a verbal duel? And above all else...
Why did she find it exhilarating?
She'd almost been resigned to the prospect of making Potter an ally as an easy one, flash him a smile, get in his personal space, and so on. But that's not Potter, she discovered.
Potter was sharp, not just intelligent and regurgitating words and laws that he memorized, but actually capable of using his wits to get the better of her... almost like he knew how she thought or acted.
Could he be a Legilim- stop it, She chided herself, I didn't feel an intrusion and he wouldn't be able to do it wandlessly. Don't be daft.
She resigned herself to try and figure out a solution later. She had all year to get to know Potter and see if he'd be open to working with her family.
Hermione looked at Harry with concern, her friend's demeanor being more than a little disconcerting.
Harry had been closed off for the summer following what happened at the graveyard, something that had her feeling guilt all the way up to Harry's trial.
To find out he was the heir to the house of Black was different for her compared to literally everyone else in Grimmauld Place. She was a muggleborn and had just begun to understand the way Lordships worked, specifically the political sway the Blacks had.
She assumed, given what she heard from Sirius stating that Malfoy's mother was a Black, that said blond was avoiding antagonizing the two of them currently because he'd just had the title as the heir to House Black stripped out from under him without any warning at all.
But back to Harry, she could see a slight shift in his expression when he got back and sat down in the Gryffindor section of the compartment, his expression looking slightly vacant.
"Harry." She whispered to him, trying to get his attention after he was silent for several minutes.
He flinched slightly and turned to her, his eyes blinking repeatedly.
"Sorry, Hermione," He offered apologetically, "Just a bit lost in my thoughts."
Hermione glanced around and realized it wasn't a good environment to talk to him about what he was thinking, probably being something unpleasant.
"Are you ok?" She asked, looking directly into his eyes that seemed a little brighter than before.
Harry nodded and gave her a reassuring smile.
"I'm fine, just, memories," He discreetly gestured around, "You know?"
Hermione nodded her head in acknowledgement, understanding what he meant.
She saw Harry turn away from her and gaze off into nothingness, lost in his thoughts.
She desperately wanted to talk with him, but she still had that lingering fear that he'd do what she had always been frightened of and abandon her. The summer and his reaction had her crying at night in guilt and self hatred, cursing herself for not telling him anything, even if Dumbledore had given a rational reason for it.
Glancing around, she looked at the other Prefects and let her mind move to a more pleasant subject, her being made Prefect.
I can talk with Harry during patrols. She thought, hoping he'd open up to her some more over the year.
The train ground to a halt and the Prefects exited the compartment, heading out and separating to head to different carriages. Harry made his way to where Ron and Ginny were, seeing two other people he hadn't encountered since his return.
Neville and Luna.
Harry cleared his thoughts and approached their carriage, Hermione right behind him.
He got them and glanced at the thestral pulling the carriage, walking up and petting it when it tilted its head downward.
"Harry," Hermione asked, "What are you doing?"
Harry ignored her for a moment, sparing Luna a glance.
He stepped into the carriage and sat next to her, looking at Neville as well for a moment.
"You can see them too?" Harry asked her softly, not focusing on anything else.
"Yes," She replied quietly, looking at him quizzically, "You're Harry Potter."
"And you're-" Harry asked, leading on for her to answer.
"Luna Lovegood, but some people call me Loony."
"And I've been called mad." Harry chuckled, seeing Luna smile slightly.
Turning to Hermione, who was still standing out of the carriage, Harry gave her an exasperated look.
"Come on, Hermione," Harry said, "This is our ride to the mad house."
Hermione scowled, but got in.
"We're not mad." She huffed, glaring at him.
"Or worse, expelled." Harry pitched his voice to try and sound like she did in first year, talking about the troll.
Ron and Neville snorted slightly, trying to hide their amusement.
Hermione rolled her eyes and ignored it, glancing at Luna more closely, specifically her earrings and the magazine she was reading.
"What magazine is that?" Hermione asked confusedly, "I don't recognize it."
Oh here we go again. Harry thought, hoping he'd avoid this a second time since he and Hermione hadn't 'met' Luna yet.
The carriage was awkwardly quiet after the ensuing argument between Hermione and Luna occurred, everyone else remaining quiet throughout Hermione's crusade against the Quibbler, and the cold response by Luna on who the publisher is.
They got to their destination and they all got out, Hermione avoiding looking at Luna.
Luna made her way forward first, heading to the other Ravenclaw students.
Harry ran a hand through his hair and sighed at the rather frosty foundation set between Luna and Hermione, Luna's stance being understandable.
"I shouldn't have been as harsh," Hermione admitted, looking somewhat ashamed, "But you have to admit, that all does sound rather ridiculous."
"So does the concept of ghosts, stones that give immortality, basilisks, and soul sucking monsters," Harry said smoothly, looking at Hermione's now widened eyes, "We live in a wonderous and magical world, Hermione, some things might be true that neither of us could ever dream of."
Death. Fate. Master of Death. To name but a few.
"I suppose you're right," Hermione said quietly, the group making their way to the entrance, "I should apologize when I have the chance."
"She's a friend," Ginny pointed out, "I can tell her if you don't have the chance to, OWLs and all that."
Hermione gave her a thankful smile, the 5 of them reaching everyone else as they entered the Great Hall.
Harry's gaze swept over the room, multiple eyes turning to look at his.
He ignored the muttered whispers and walked with the others to the Gryffindor table, giving Daphne a discreet wink from across the hall when he turned to her, her face tightening in irritation.
Harry sat down at the table, ignoring the looks from everyone.
The others sat down and Harry turned to look at the head table, the sorting about to begin in a few minutes.
Sure enough, Professor McGonagall came in with the first years, Professor Grubbly-Plank trailing in the back.
The first years got situated at the front, Harry sparing a glance towards the elephant in the room, or more accurately, the toad.
Pink cardigan, looked like a pale toad, and he could almost smell the awful perfume just by thinking of it.
Umbridge still had a smug look on her face, just as she did the first time around when she interrupted Dumbledore to give her little speech.
Harry watched as the sorting finished and, just like before, Umbridge interrupted Dumbledore, much to the surprise everyone including Dumbledore.
Harry listened intently to what she said, just as Hermione was.
The Ministry has a vested interest in the school, so on and so forth.
Harry sighed in relief once he was able to eat, now that she finally stopped talking.
He dug in to his food, eating it with gusto, at least until a certain bushy-haired friend of his decided to commit the heinous crime of interrupting him.
"Did you catch all of that?" Hermione whispered to him, interrupting his eating.
Harry gave her a deadpanned look, biting into a morsel of treacle tart while still making direct eye contact.
"I caught everything." He hissed in Parseltongue, grinning when Hermione didn't even realize what he did.
"Don't be like Ron was," Hermione scowled, glancing at Room who was keeping up the effort to slow his eating somewhat after Hermione politely pointed it out, while Fred and George compared him to the pigs they raised at their home at times, specifically the red ones.
The honesty of brothers is irreplaceable when being an utter bastard to your relation.
Harry leaned forward and repeated himself.
"I caught everything." He said in English, taking another bite of food while still looking at her.
"Really?" Hermione asked skeptically, folding her arms over her chest.
"Really, Ms. Granger." Harry smiled, giving her a raised brow, "If you wish to progress in a fashion not aligned with the goals of the Ministry, it shall be prohibited." He used much of the words Umbridge used, but paraphrased.
Hermione blinked and leaned her head back, surprised that Harry listened through the whole speech.
"Now let me finish." He said, going back to his food.
Dinner was finished and Hermione rose from her seat, eying Harry speculatively.
"What?" Harry raised a brow.
"We need to help guide the first years to Gryffindor tower," Hermione rolled her eyes at the obvious statement she made, "Our patrols start tommorow."
"I'm sure Peeves can help them." Harry waved her concern off, smirking at the look of aggravation on her face.
"Harry Potter." She warned, groaning audibly when she saw him adopt a grin.
"Hermione Granger." He said in a chastising tone.
Hermione shook her head and began walking towards the front of the table, Harry following moments after, giving Fred and George a quick wave.
The students began to leave the hall to get back to their dormitories, the Prefects split between some walking with the students, while the other half was instructed to stay behind and guide the first years.
"First year Gryffindors," Hermione called out clearly, "Follow us to the dormitories." she gestured to herself and Harry.
A couple of the first years were starting at him, gawking slightly.
"Are you Harry Potter?" One of them, a girl with auburn hair, asked loudly.
Harry smirked and gave a look of false confusion.
"I keep getting asked if I'm Harry Potter, but I don't see how I resemble him."
"Harry." Hermione scolded him, "Don't tease them."
"See," Harry pointed dramatically, "Even my friend confuses me with him."
Most of the first years clued in and started laughing, Hermione shaking her head at her friend's antics.
"But yes, I'm Harry Potter, wizard extraordinaire, and your 5th year Prefect."
The first years were enthralled by his presentation, paying rapt attention.
"We'll be guiding you to the common room tonight and back here," He pointed to the entry into the Great Hall that they just exited, "For tomorrow morning. Be sure not to get lost. If you do get lost, the portraits will help guide you, just don't ask Sir Cadogan for directions. He's a bit mad."
He smiled as he saw each of them seem to focus on his every word, even Hermione looking impressed.
"I'll direct you now to Ms. Granger, the other Prefect, and she knows much more than I do about everything you need to know."
Hermione looked surprised at the abrupt shift to her, but she took it in stride and cleared her throat.
"Yes," She began, continuing to guide the first years forward, "Up here, we will be encountering the enchanted staircase. Be mindful of one of the steps."
Harry zoned out the rest of her explanation to the first years, letting his memory guide him to the common room.
They got to the Fat Lady and gave her the password, stressing to the first years that they needed to remember it, and entered as the portrait swing open.
They entered and Hermione pointed out certain parts of the common room and their dormitories, the boys on one side and the girls on the other end.
Harry spotted a few in his year lounging by the fireplace, specifically Dean and Seamus, the latter giving him a peculiar look.
Lovely. Harry thought sarcastically, knowing he'd need a dressing down.
Seamus at least seemed to have the decency to wait until the first years were directed to their dormitories by Hermione before approaching him.
"We tried talking with him," Ron said, glancing at Neville, "But, well." he trailed off.
"Let me hazard a guess," Harry said, putting his left hand on his chin, "Based on your expression, Dean looking uncomfortable, Neville and Ron trying to talk with you, I think you want to know whether I'm a lunatic or not, probably thinking I'm the Liar, Lunatic, Lordling."
Harry stated the stupid title by the Daily Prophet when the news dropped of him being the Black heir: Liar, Lunatic, or Lord.
"Yeah, pretty much." Seamus said, looking up at Harry, who was taller than he was last school year, "Me mam thinks Dumbledore's right mad now, gettin' old."
"And that would make me a liar," Harry shrugged dismissively, "If you're going to call me a liar, have the stones to actually say it instead of being a pussy."
Seamus glared at him and took a deep breath.
"You want to hear it then, eh? Here it goes, you're either a madman, or you fell for the shite Dumbledore told you to say."
"And you're the imbecilic spawn of an insufferable bitch." Harry said flatly, his head tilted slightly.
"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean, Potter?" He demanded, his face turning red in anger.
Harry chuckled mockingly.
"That answer is proof of why Jesus was not born in Ireland," His grin grew wider, his fingers flexing beneath the sleeve of his robes, "Couldn't find three wise men or a virgin."
Seamus clued into the double insult to him and his mother a moment later, his face twisting into a snarl as he drew his wand.
Harry's hand shot to his own and hit Seamus with a banishment charm with a casual flick of his wand, sending the boy into one of the couches with a heavy impact.
The cushioning stopped anything from being broken, but Seamus was still on the ground, coughing and trying to get air back into his lungs.
Everyone still in the room stared in shock, having not seen Harry move for his wand.
Harry casually approached Seamus, wand barely glowing at the tip with a red light.
Leaning down towards Seamus, Harry spoke to him.
"Don't try and attack me, Seamus," He said with a misleadingly soft tone, "You'll regret it. Don't call me a liar and don't call me insane."
Harry then stood up and left the room, not sparing anyone a glance as he went to his bed.
"Stop laughing, Tracey," Daphne growled, looking at her best friend on the ground, gasping for air from laughing, "It's not funny."
The other girls in their year were still in the common room, talking amongst themselves while the two of them walked straight to their dormitory and Daphne filled Tracey in on what happened.
"I don't think your dad's going to be happy that you tried to entrap Potter with your 'feminine wiles'." Tracey managed to get out through her giggles.
"Shut up," Daphne growled, throwing a pillow at her, "he walked into me."
"And I'm sure he's absolutely grateful that you cushioned his fall." Tracey kept laughing, much to the blonde's anger.
Daphne dragged her hand through a lock of her hair, gripping it tightly in irritation.
"I'm sure Potter will want to meet up again," Tracey grinned from ear to ear, "Have some more hands on inspection again."
Daphne started breathing heavily and closed her eyes, trying to refrain from killing her best friend.
"Stop."
Tracey put up her hands to placate her, genuinely trying to stop laughing. "Ok, I'll stop. But one last thing."
Daphne groaned audibly.
"What?" She sighed, resigned to hearing it.
"When's the date?" She asked, somehow maintaining a straight face.
Daphne flushed red in anger and started grumbling about nothing in particular, turning away from her friend.
"There, I'm done. We can talk seriously now." Tracey said, trying to reach for her friend.
Daphne pushed her hand away and scowled at her, calming down as she thought of what to say.
"Potter has a completely different personality from what it was we thought," Daphne began, shaking her head, "The trial wasn't a farce where he simply memorized the laws, he's dangerous." She whispered.
Tracey may not be as politically astute as Daphne was, but she was still the eldest child of a Lord and was educated as an heir was expected, even if her mum was a muggleborn.
"Why would he hide that?" Tracey asked, "Why wouldn't he be in Slytherin if he hid that since first year? That's surely something our House would respect."
"Remember who all is in Slytherin," Daphne pointed out, "Risk assessment dictates that you avoid sleeping near people who have a vested interest in killing or beating you down."
Tracey raised a brow at her.
"That's something we," She gestured between the two of them, "Would be taught. Potter was muggle raised."
"Are you sure about that?" Daphne countered, "Potter likely met Black at one point. There's no other reason for him to fight for a trial to get a supposed Death Eater, and one who was the reason for his parents' deaths, acquitted."
Tracey huffed in annoyance.
"Why do you always seem to find things? Merlin, I think I know how my dad feels when he talks with your's."
Daphne smirked at that, knowing that her father and Tracey's were friends in school just like the two of them are.
"But back to Potter," Daphne said, "He made a grand show of being on bad terms with Dumbledore, but that may have been a ruse. I'll know more about him when I have more time to speak with him."
"Madam Puddifoots?" Tracey snickered, yelping when Daphne slapped her on the shoulder.
"No, not a date," She growled, getting up, "After a class, I'll speak with him."
"I'd recommend after Potions," Tracey said simply, "Wait til he's on his way to Divination after lunch."
"Whyyy?" Daphne dragged the word, raising a brow in question.
"Divination is a load of tripe," Tracey shrugged, "He won't be too worked up if he's late. Plus," She added with a grin, "There's more than one broom cupboard to duck into if you get the chance for a more private discussion."
Daphne growled and stormed away, muttering under her breath.
"This is what happens when your best friend reads romance novels."
Albus Dumbledore looked at the two teachers in the Headmaster's office, if you could even call one of them a 'teacher'.
"Severus, Dolores," He inclined his head in acknowledgement at the arrival of the second, "There is something, as members of staff this pertains to, that you should know."
"Yes?" Severus drawled, his expression a bored one, "Is it related to what you mentioned earlier in the summer?"
Dumbledore nodded an affirmative, turning towards Dolores.
"As you have not held a teaching position before," Dumbledore explained kindly, "It would be quite a hurdle to handle O.W.L and N.E.W.T students for this year, so the staff and I, before you were appointed, devised a means to help reduce the strain upon the defense position."
"And that is?" Umbridge asked, looking suspicious of anything the old man thought of.
"A study group headed by a Prefect will help students with any issues they have that would be tedious for you. But don't fret," He added, noticing her about to say something, "This Prefect has been top of his year in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Severus will be overseeing it, as he has a Defense Mastery."
Severus showed no sign of acknowledging what Dumbledore said, aside from a slight thinning of his lips.
Umbridge looked between Dumbledore and Snape, looking like she was trying to formulate a response.
"Who is the student?" She asked sweetly, fixing Dumbledore with a look.
"Harry Potter, of course."
Umbridge's eyes widened in surprise, before she schooled her features.
"Potter, hmnn. That is surprising. Are you certain that he is a proper choice? Is Professor Snape a good member of staff to oversee it?"
Dumbledore had been prepared for Umbridge to call his judgement into question and answered smoothly in response.
"Professor Snape is a diligent educator who is very competent in the fields he is certified in. No injuries will occur under his watch, the accident rate for first year students in potions has consistently lowered since he took up the position after the retirement of Professor Slughorn."
A harsh and oftentimes spiteful man he may be, but Severus Snape was a competent individual that took incompetence as a personal insult and put the fear of Merlin in students concerning any amateur mistakes in a very dangerous field of magical education.
"And what of Mr. Potter?" Umbridge seemed to switch targets, not looking at Snape, "He has his OWLs this year."
Strange. Dumbledore thought, keeping his expression neutral. She did not attempt to attack his character or trustworthiness, perhaps I am indeed right about Cornelius wishing to sniff for a means to target me. Good.With Cornelius, and by extension Umbridge, targeting him as the focus, the students will find it easier for this year, the calm before the storm.
"A letter was sent to him over the summer," Dumbledore lied smoothly, betraying no deception, "He accepted it, wishing to help any students that would need it."
Dumbledore had left a message with the Prefect badge sent to Harry, telling him the plan for any questioning about the details of his position as the head of the defense study group.
Umbridge frowned and seemed to accept what he said.
"Very well, anything that eases the burden on my part would be welcome, even it isn't necessary."
Dumbledore painted a smile on his face and dismissed her, turning to Severus.
"Severus," He said, "I have a question concerning your upcoming potions class tomorrow." Dumbledore glanced at Umbridge's back as a hint.
Snape nodded along and gave a curt 'Yes.' as Umbridge left the room.
When the door closed, Dumbledore dropped the jovial look on his face and fixed Snape with a piercing gaze.
"You understand the other reason why I need you in particular to act as the official overseer for the study group when the practical portion is covered by Harry?" Dumbledore asked.
Snape nodded, his face tightening slightly.
"It's a fools errand to convince you otherwise. Potter doesn't have it in him to kill the Dark Lord on his own. He is a child."
"As we all were," Dumbledore countered, smiling softly, "Harry has taken proactive steps to preparing for what is to come."
"You take Black's word on whether he's been studying," Snape scoffed, looking unconvinced, "James Potter and Black at least had the drive to be better than me in studies, even if they did fail."
"Quite proud of your accomplishments, I know, Severus," Dumbledore smiled, giving only a slight admonishing tone to his voice, "Any bias Sirius or Remus may have in judging Harry's progress will be completely absent with you."
Snape was an accomplished duelist and had a creativity in his spells and curses that was uncommon for a man not yet 40, even if he had been a Death Eater.
"Has Potter been informed that I will be 'testing' him after each session of the study group?" Snape asked, his lip curling upwards at the thought of putting Potter to task in another subject.
Dumbledore shook his head.
"I will inform him beforehand." Dumbledore answered, stroking his beard for a moment.
The two men were silent for a moment, the elder of the two breaking it shortly after.
"Has there been anything Voldemort has planned as a retaliation to a trial for Sirius?" Dumbledore asked, having not broached the subject.
"The Dark Lord has been keeping things close to the chest," Snape admitted, "Something left him very displeased with Lucius, something unrelated to losing the Black seat."
Dumbledore pondered what that could be, something to look at for a different day.
"If anything is mentioned at the next meeting, Severus, be sure to mention it." Dumbledore stated, glancing towards the door, "Now, I'm certain you would like to get back to your quarters. It has been a rather long day, so I'll cease to take up more of your time." Dumbledore dismissed him.
"Headmaster." Snape bowed his head slightly in a farewell, turning around to leave, his robes billowing slightly as he exited the room.
Dumbledore chuckled at what Snape did, he himself having done it as a teacher when he felt like being a little theatrical.
Fawkes trilled at him when he thought that.
"Oh, Fawkes," Dumbledore mock scolded his familiar, "I was far more sophisticated in my execution of it than Severus ever could be," Dumbledore shook his head, "A beard is required to pull it off, and none now have as grand a one as mine." He stroked his beard to get the point across.
Fawkes turned his head up at him and looked away, the trill he made as he jumped off his perch and flew away almost sounding like a snort.
Dumbledore scoffed slightly at what the phoenix did.
"Be that way then."
To think that even a phoenix, majestic and ethereal creatures that they are, would think he was flamboyant. The nerve of such a creature, his familiar no less.
Rising from his chair, he massaged the back of where his neck met his shoulders, thinking of how today went. The Sorting was a beautiful thing to watch, as usual, seeing the next crop of students take their place in the Wizarding world. The muggleborn students' awestruck looks were a sight to behold, reminding him of his own wonder when he first set foot in what was now his home.
He stepped away from his desk and walked to his quarters, deciding to call it an early night, he could work for longer tommorow if need be.
End Chapter:
Not the longest of chapters, but it sets up the first day of classes and how certain things have already begun to change from the steps taken.
I had the choice of making the first meeting with Daphne an uncomfortable one that was hard for Harry, or make it a more comedic one. I chose the comedic one. His thoughts on Daphne will come up more when the study group cranks up, it is open to all students after all.
Anyway, here's a new chapter. Comments are welcome and may you have a wonderful day.
Raging..