Memento Mori

by Greed720

Sometimes your life doesn't go the way you want it too. This very much reflected the way Harry's life had gone up until this point. Honestly, he had thought himself destined for greatness. After all, he had been born with magic and talent, surely that meant something? But in the end his life and fate turned out less than glamorous. If only he had another chance.

8. Chapter 8

AN: Here is chapter 8, hope you enjoy, and please leave a review etc. If you have any questions or suggestions, please feel free to PM me or if not join my discord.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Many thanks to Tree Licker for beta-reading the story.

( - )

(Last Time)

Hopefully, now he could have another few minutes of peace and quiet before both Hermione and Ron barged into the compartment to annoy him again.

Urgh, Harry had to resist a groan at that thought, he was almost tempted to cut off all ties with the duo. Not that he would give in to that impulse, not yet at least.

The last thing he needed right now was Dumbledore sticking his nose into his business, which he knew the manipulative, old Headmaster would do the moment Harry started to suddenly act erratic, or out of the ordinary, including him pushing away his 'friends'.

Sometimes he wondered how things in his life had become so complicated.

( - )

Chapter 8

( - )

(Sometime later, with Harry)

A few hours after his altercation with Malfoy, Harry found himself being roughly shaken awake by Hermione. In the intervening time, he had fallen asleep with a closed book on his lap, his jacket lying on top of him like a blanket and his feet up on the seat opposite.

Blinking his bleary eyes as he was none too gently awoken, and letting out a barely stifled yawn, Harry lazily looked around the compartment and saw that Ron and Hermione were both still here.

The pair of them, he remembered, had entered not long after he had scared off Malfoy.

Though by the time they had done so, Harry had already settled himself down for a nap, and as such had not given them much attention.

Instead, he had listened to the two of them bitching about how Malfoy had been made a Prefect for a while before the conversation turned to the upcoming OWLs and what they had already heard from the other students, as well as what they hoped to get out of this year.

Again, Harry had tuned most of this prattle out and had instead fallen asleep.

"Harry, we're nearly at Hogwarts. You need to get up and get your robes on!" Hermione said insistently as she once again shook him, urging him to get up, even as he attempted to ignore her. After his lie-in this morning which had been ruined by their unpreparedness, the least they could do was allow him his midday nap now.

Hermione, unfortunately, didn't seem to think the same as she continued to harang him until he finally complied with her 'request'.

"I'm up, I'm up," Harry eventually grumbled when her persistence finally wore him down. Normally, he would happily dig his heels in for the sake of it, just to make a point. At this moment, however, he knew that she was probably right, it was time for him to get up and to start getting ready before they arrived at Hogwarts.

Pushing himself up, he idly eyed Ron and Hermione up and down. Both of them were already fully dressed in their school uniform and robes, -Ron's noticeably a bit more worn and threadbare than Hermione's-, and both had their Prefect badges shining brightly on their chests, and prominently displayed for all to see.

'Urgh, please tell me I wasn't like that!' Harry thought to himself in distaste, before he looked to Hermione, the sharper one of the duo. "How close are we?"

"Pretty close," Ron answered through a mouthful of chocolate, the seat around him was noticeably littered with sweet wrappers and other detritus. "You missed the trolley lady, by the way."

"That's fine," Harry replied distractedly as he pulled out a shrunken trunk and, with a tap of his wand, expanded it so it grew to full-size atop two of the spare seats across from him. Ignoring the fact that Ron had answered the question as he did so, he honestly didn't care as long as he got an answer.

Opening the trunk (and ignoring Hermione's exclamations about how he had done a space expansion charm on the inside of it) Harry instead dug out his robes. Making sure that, as he did so, he didn't reveal any of the hidden compartments in the trunk. The last thing he wanted was for Hermione to nose around and find the dark artefacts, books and the questionable ingredients that he had stored away in his trunk.

Grabbing his robes, he then began unceremoniously pulling off his normal clothes, sorting and folding them neatly enough in his trunk, after which he then began to quickly change into his school stuff.

"A space expansion charm is a very advanced piece of magic, Harry, not even I know how to do that yet! Where on earth did you learn it?" Hermione asked insistently, ignoring Harry's lack of modesty as he buttoned up his white shirt and did his tie, after which he put on a grey jumper with the Gryffindor crest on, and then pulled his red-lined robes on, over the top.

"The Black Family Library," Harry replied dismissively, telling the truth for once, as that was where he had originally learned the spell. Though that had been back in his sixth year of school in his own timeline.

Though thinking about it now, he was probably lucky to have been able to learn the spell too, as it was a highly controlled and regulated piece of magic due to the potential danger that could come from incorrectly casting it, or the spell failing after it had been cast. After all, you were playing around with spatial and dimensional magicks, which were known to be incredibly dangerous and equally unstable.

The only other place he could have learned it off his own back would have been if he had been able to get access to the Restricted Section of the Hogwart's Library. That, or if he had been taught it at the Ministry, though even then that would have only been if he had had a job there which required knowledge of the spell.

"The Black Family Library?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"Yeah, most of the old families have an extensive library of magical tomes, grimoires and stuff that they acquired over the years. You know, with each generation adding their own contributions. Both, things that they created, or that they discovered, or other spells and such that they acquired in other ways. Muggles do it with their crap; you know like books, paintings, family memorabilia, that kind of crap, are you really that surprised that wizards do it too? I just used the one at Grimmauld Place. It was pretty useful too, plenty of handy grimoires, though admittedly there was some pretty nasty stuff in some of them." Harry shrugged, looking into the darkened window and adjusting his tie as he checked out his reflection, after which he began to mess about with his hair. The 'other Harry', might've been a bit skinnier and shorter than he might've liked, but there was still potential there. "Then again, considering this is the Black Family we're talking about, maybe that isn't a surprise."

"Wait, what?! You mean to tell me some of the pureblood families just hoard magical knowledge for themselves!?" Hermione asked incredulously, her voice pitching slightly as she looked between Ron and Harry in askance.

"Well, yeah, of course they do. Some of the families are millennia old, they have acquired a lot of wealth, knowledge and prestige in that time." Harry shrugged, once again he was being honest. This was, after all, a calculated risk he had thought up over the last few weeks. He had no intention of hiding what he could do, or at least that he was better than everyone else. But, at the same time, he did want to have an excuse ready to avoid too much suspicion when he did begin to outshine everyone in his year.

Hermione's face started to redden as she digested what Harry had said, even as she turned to Ron, her eyes glinting dangerously. "Did you know this?"

"Well, yeah," Ron replied awkwardly, scratching the back of his head uncomfortably. "I know the Weasley's used to have one, but they sold it off a couple of generations ago." Ron continued uncomfortably, his face flushing as he once again referenced his family's lack of money. "As for on my mum's side, well, she was a Prewett, and their manor house was burned down in the last war, and so was all the stuff in it..."

"It's a pity too," Harry tagged on easily, snapping his trunk shut as he did so before he once again shrunk it and then squirreled it away on his person. "They likely had some very rare stuff, some of it one of a kind, now it's lost forever."

"That's why it's so bad. All of this knowledge should be available to everyone, they should have public libraries so that everyone, regardless of status or anything else, can access it. That way the knowledge can not only be passed on, but it can be preserved and improved upon!" Hermione said fiercely.

"Hmm," Harry replied glibly, raising his eyebrows as he looked over at Ron. "Somehow I don't think you'll catch the Malfoy's or any of the other old families just donating their family's possessions. No, wizards guard their secret's jealousy, and from what I know that is just how it has always been, especially when it comes to spells and whatnot that originated in their families."

"Well, that's just not fair!" Hermione hissed, her eyes flashing with anger at the thought of the pure-blooded families just sitting on all of that knowledge, squandering it when they could share it and help make the world a better place.

"That's life," Harry replied dismissively, sitting back down again now and smoothing out his new robes, delighting in the feeling of the fine and expensive material as his fingers traced over it.

Yet again, this was another extravagant buy, especially when his older, cheaper robes would likely have been functional for another year. But still, Harry liked to spoil himself with the finer things.

"New robes?" Ron frowned, a hint of jealousy and resentment appearing in his eyes as he noticed what Harry was doing, and thus his robes.

"Yup, a whole new wardrobe." Harry shrugged easily, grinning. He was completely unperturbed by the faint frown on Ron's face.

"Harry…" Hermione's voice suddenly intruded, catching both Harry and Ron's attention as they looked over to the frowning girl. "You said you had access to the library at Grimmauld Place, didn't you? Well, I just thought about it, and there wasn't a library, I would have noticed when we were cleaning..."

"Well, the old families liked to hoard their knowledge and keep it well protected, too. I'm not surprised you didn't find it, it was within a hidden room, only accessible through a secret doorway." Harry replied with a shrug, amused now, as he suspected he knew what Hermione was going to say next.

"Well, if you did find it, why did you tell any of us!? We were all there together for over a month! If you'd have told me then I could have used the library too, who knows what I could have learned! I'm sure Sirius wouldn't have minded lending me some of the more interesting books for when I left, too!" Hermione exploded, her brows furrowing and her teeth gritting at the thought of the opportunity that had been wasted. She'd spent the summer cleaning when she could have spent it learning powerful and esoteric magicks!

"Hmm, yes I suppose. I guess it just never crossed my mind." Harry shrugged, not mentioning that he hadn't told her for the simple fact that he didn't particularly like her.

That and he didn't want her getting in the way or noticing anything when he stripped the library bare, something he would blame on Kreature when it was noticed, that or Mundungus, either one of them would do.

Plus, as she said, Sirius, who didn't care a jot for the Black family treasures, would have more than happily let her keep anything she wanted and that was something Harry couldn't allow. He was very particular about his possessions, and as far as he was concerned, everything in Grimmauld Place and the Black Family vault was his. Or at least the stuff that Sirius didn't specifically claim or want, which accounted for the majority of it and like the purebloods of old, he didn't like sharing, not with anyone.

It was just a pity really that the Potter family was not as old, or as wealthy, or as influential for that matter as the Black's had been, and that their own library, which had been moved to a vault in Gringotts during the war, was sparser than the Black family library.

Still, he would be depositing his newly acquired things into his family vault in Gringotts when he got the chance to head to the bank unaccompanied, so he would be able to bolster his family's library and vault with the choice bits from the Black Family's estate.

Not that he was in a rush to do anything at the moment though, after all, it was handy to have some of it on his person, as he had never finished going through it all, instead, he had only scratched the surface.

That, and he was planning on using his invisibility cloak to do a bit of thieving whilst he was at Hogwarts, especially now he had access to this Marauders Map that his father had apparently created. The map itself was a particularly useful item that showed him the entirety of Hogwarts, secret passages and all, as well as all the people currently in the school, and their exact positions.

Already, he was cursing the fact that he hadn't had this item, one which should have been passed onto him the first time around. With it having instead been owned by Fred and George Weasley, before being passed onto Longbottom and co.

Suffice to say, when Harry learned this, he had had to restrain himself from cursing the thieving blighters by reminding himself that they were not the same people he had known.

That, and he could also see the hypocrisy of him getting pissed off about them stealing the map, when the first thing he thought of when he realised what the map was, was that it would make it easy for him to steal stuff.

Yes, he did see the hypocrisy, but then again, he didn't care. No, in fact he leaned into it, after all, one of the credos he lived by was; 'do what I say and not what I do'.

"Harry, I wish you would think sometimes, a bit of common sense wouldn't go amiss…" Hermione sighed resignedly, seemingly accepting his words and apparent 'forgetfulness', rubbing her forehead as she did so before she shook her head and sent him a smile. "Still, there's always Christmas."

"Hmm, yeah I suppose." Harry nodded, biting back a retort at her condescending attitude.

Honestly, from what he knew of his version of Granger, she had been a great and loyal friend to Longbottom, a great asset too, and after the stories he had heard about the 'other Harry' and his adventures, she had similarly been a good friend to him too.

Harry, though, was neither of those boys. He was not The Boy Who Lived, not really. Nor was he the Gryffindor Seeker that saved this girl from a troll, he'd probably ridden a broom half a dozen times at most. Nor was he the boy who had ventured into the Chamber of Secrets to save the youngest Weasley child. He had not driven off a hundred Dementors with his Patronus, nor had he competed and won the Triwizard Tournament.

No, his backstory was completely different, and thus he was a completely different person despite them having, most likely, identical DNA and the same parents and godparent. Harry was fundamentally different from the other Harry, both in the way he had grown up, the experiences that he had had and in the ways they had shaped him.

Granger might have been the best of friends to the old Harry, but to him, she was a nuisance and a condescending one at that. One that had the face of someone that had grown to be his enemy, someone he disliked at best. She could be useful in the future, which is why he wasn't driving her away. At the same time though, she could also be a hindrance, especially if she interfered with what he had planned.

"Good, now come on, hurry up. Ron, you'll need to clean up all those wrappers before we go, too. The train should be reaching Hogsmeade station any minute now." Hermione nodded decisively, pushing her previous irritation over the whole library thing to one side for now. Most likely she was planning on getting the instructions for the space expansion charm off of him later, and then she'd probably want to pick his brain for anything else he might have picked up throughout his time at Grimmauld Place.

It was almost amusing to him that she thought he would give her the opportunity to do such a thing.

It wasn't long after Hermione had said her piece, that the train came to a stop and the corridors suddenly became a melee as hundreds of students piled out of the train and onto the platform.

Both Ron and Hermione stuck close to Harry as he stepped onto the platform, both of them waiting for the familiar booming voice to echo across the platform as Hagrid called for the first years, only for it to never come.

Not that Harry seemed to notice, as he instead just studied the faces of those around him. Most of whom he only had the vaguest memory or recollection of, though there were some amongst the milling crowd that he recognised better than others, some of whom for less than pleasant reasons, like the fact that he had seen their dead bodies or had fought with them and against them.

It was kind of surreal for him standing here, surrounded by the faces of people he knew, all of whom were much younger than he remembered, and some of whom were alive when in his mind they should be dead!

"First years line up over here, please!" A brisk female voice quite different from the gruff, full-bodied one that was Hagrid's, called out, drawing the attention of Ron, Hermione and later Harry, when he heard Ron ask, 'where's Hagrid?'

"All first years, to me!"

Harry of course knew that Hagrid had been absent at the start of the fifth year, just as he knew that the reason for this was because he had been sent on a mission by the Order of the Phoenix to contact the giants if he was not mistaken.

He didn't say this to the other two though, as they got closer to the half-giant's stand-in, Professor Grubbly-Plank, who also happened to be the professor that had subbed for Hagrid the previous year. After all, he didn't want to explain how he knew about secret Order missions to the other two, nor did he see any need to share the information. It wouldn't gain him anything, except suspicion over how he knew it.

"Hey, where's Hagrid? Why is that Grubbly-Plank woman here instead?" Ron asked again as he too noticed Grubbly-Plank gathering all of the first years to her, with her taking over what had previously been Hagrid's job.

"I'm not sure," Hermione muttered, her brow furrowed. "I would have thought he'd be back by now from… you know, whatever he was doing over summer," she quickly amended, looking around worriedly in case anyone had picked up on her slipup.

Harry blinked as he caught what she said, or rather didn't say. Perhaps these two also knew more than they were letting on, maybe through their constant attempts to spy on Order meetings.

"Well anyway, let's just get a carriage before they all fill up," Harry spoke up again, not too concerned really about Hagrid's absence. The half-giant had been a pretty shitty teacher after all, even if no one –save for a few of the Slytherin's– had the balls to tell him. Nor had he ever been close to him, he couldn't remember the last time he had spoken to the half-giant.

With that said, Harry turned and headed for the Thestral drawn carriages without another word, not bothering to check if the others were following him as he headed for the first empty one he could find.

Coolly looking at the Thestral drawing it as he did so, his lip curling up in distaste at its gaunt, skeletal appearance and the bloodstains he could see around its mouth, by the looks of it, the creature had eaten not too long ago.

( - )

(Sometime Later)

Trundling through the school's main gates after a quiet journey up from the station, or at least quiet for Harry, as instead of conversing with either Ron or Hermione he instead just stared out of the window; waiting and watching for the first sign of Hogwarts as it loomed out of the darkness. The other two had of course continued conversing, discussing where Hagrid had gone, and just what the Order had asked him to do now that they were in the safety and relative privacy of the carriage.

A smile spread across his face as the carriage came to a stop, and he saw the ancient school for what felt like the first time in years.

Hogwarts, the large, magical castle shone out like a beacon overhead, its numerous windows lit up in a golden light as it stood as staunch and solid as ever, there to welcome its students home. And honestly, the castle did feel like home to Harry, after all, it was the place where he had been happiest.

It was far better than the orphanage he had been sent to as a baby.

It was better than Grimmauld Place, which he had later moved into after he had inherited it from Sirius, though he would admit he was very fond of that house.

It was also better than the three properties his family had owned, two of which were still probably just being rented out at this time on behalf of the estate. The last of which, the house at Godric's Hollow, was probably just a ruin.

Which was a shame as he had liked the little cottage, sure, it had the bad memories of his parents being murdered there by Bellatrix Lestrange and co, but it had still been a lovely little property in a great location too.

By the time he had been captured back in his world, it had probably been reduced to little more than ruins as well, he doubted it would have survived the purge that followed Voldemort's defeat. No doubt the wizards searching for him had probably torn down all the enchantments and protections on the house and had turned it upside down whilst searching for any trace of Harry.

But still, despite having other properties and homes after he left the school, Hogwarts had always been his first home, and thus, his most cherished.

It was where he had learned to be a wizard, and where he had become a man, it was where he had made connections and bonds with people.

Ironically, it was also where he had met his fall. After all, the last battle of Voldemort's regime had taken place here, the consequences of which had led to his imprisonment in Azkaban.

But he didn't hold that against the castle.

No, every bad thing that had ever happened to him was because of either Dumbledore, Longbottom, the Order of the Phoenix or Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Shaking his head at that thought, Harry soon got out of the carriage and headed for the great hall, both Ron and Hermione following after him, the pair of them still discussing Hagrid's absence, seemingly oblivious of Harry's general lack of interest in the subject.

It was as he did this that Harry, once again, noticed how everyone was looking at him, their eyes shifting to him the moment he came within their line of sight and staying with him as he passed. With many of the students stopping just to stare, or to mutter to one another, some of them sending him looks of suspicion, curiosity, or in quite a few cases: fear.

What made this worse was that he knew some of them; a few had been friends of sorts, or he had at least some connection in his time. But now they looked at him like he was an object, a dangerous exhibit at the zoo.

Harry grimaced as he noticed this, even as he entered the hall. It appeared he truly was The Boy Who Lived. After all, the fickle mob had now turned on him, just as they once had with Longbottom.

Of course, he wasn't Longbottom, he wasn't as weak-willed, or as spineless or wimpy, and he certainly wasn't as bumbling or incompetent as that oaf had been.

No, he was Harry 'bloody' Potter, if he was stuck being the vaunted 'Chosen One' then fine. But he would not allow himself to be pushed around or bullied. If people wanted to fuck with him, then he would fuck with them first. If people wanted to kill him, then he would kill them first. He would not take anything lying down, least of all the ignorant, idiotic and foolish students of Hogwarts.

Harry's grimace turned into a vicious grin now. Which was something, several of the staring students noticed as he swept past them and into the great hall, flinching or frowning at the sight of the seemingly unfamiliar smile on the 'Boy Who Lived's' face.

"Harry!" Ron's voice called out a few moments later, catching Harry's attention. "Where are you going mate?"

"Huh?" Harry blinked as he heard Ron's call before he glanced around and saw that he was headed for the Ravenclaw table. His feet had naturally led him in the familiar direction of the table of blue and bronze, from which many familiar faces had already turned to look at him with a variety of expressions.

One of which stood out more than all the others, Cho Chang's.

Now, Harry had had a fling with the attractive older girl in his time, just a small, insignificant one whilst they were at school. But as far as he knew this Harry, the Boy Who Lived one, had not. He seemingly had not had a single relationship or romantic interaction in his life, he had been essentially sexless. Which made it all the more confusing, the expression on Cho's face as she looked at him. It was one of fascination and grief, but also one of longing and apprehension.

It was confusing, to say the least.

Perhaps fortunately he didn't have much time to dwell on this, as he instead tore his gaze away and looked at Ron who by this point had put a hand on his shoulder and began guiding him away from the Ravenclaw table and over to the Gryffindor table.

"Come on, mate, we need to get to our seats." Ron continued, the befuddled expression on his face disappearing as he instead nodded to the Gryffindor table, where Harry could see Hermione had already taken a seat.

Nodding at that, Harry allowed himself to be guided over to where Hermione was saving them two places. As he walked over, his gaze shifted over to those she had chosen to sit with.

Within that number there was; Dean Thomas, the snarky muggle-born teen who had attempted to torment Harry in Azkaban. Seamus Finnegan, the Irish Half-Blood he had killed, and the reason behind Dean's attitude. Parvati Patel, inconsequential, but alive in his time as far as he knew. Lavender Brown, dead, and a victim of Greyback, as nasty a way to go as any he knew.

Then there was Neville Longbottom, a dumpy, round-faced boy who smiled as he saw Harry and waved. In response, Harry's gaze rested on him for a moment, his expression not changing when he saw the other teen's grin become slightly uncertain. Until, a few minutes later, he forced a smile on his face, gave a half-wave and took a seat amongst them.

Noticeably both Lavender and Parvati, and Dean and Seamus stopped their two private conversations as he sat down opposite them, and instead greeted him in an overly friendly manner, or at least Dean, Lavender and Parvati did. Seamus noticeably avoided eye contact.

Subtlety, it appeared, was not a Gryffindor trait.

"Why were you headed over to the Ravenclaw table?" Ron asked as he took his seat next to Harry.

"Don't know, just lost in my own thoughts I suppose," Harry replied easily, hoping as he did that, they would also accept that as a reason for why he had avoided interacting with them much today, or since he had arrived at Grimmauld Place for that matter. Though for how long he could maintain this as his excuse, he wasn't certain.

In response, Ron just nodded, before he turned and greeted the others, all of them making small talk of sorts as they discussed their summers, or rather gave brief summaries like; 'it was alright', 'it wasn't too bad, or 'didn't really do much'. Non-committal answers for the most part, ones that didn't require questioning or in-depth discussions.

Tuning the conversation out, Harry instead looked over at the staff table, his emerald eyes trailing over all those present, with his gaze remaining on Dumbledore and Snape for a moment longer than the rest. Until, eventually his eyes came to rest on the squat, toad-like Delores Umbridge; fluffy, pink cardigan and all. His eyes narrowed at the sight of her, and his lip curled up in distaste.

Just like he had suspected, things here were happening similar to how they had in his time. Call it fate, or call it destiny, Harry didn't know or care, but obviously, some things were just meant to happen. How else could he explain the similarities between what happened in his world and what was happening here now, even with the differences such as Harry being the child of the Prophecy here, and Sirius being alive, and who knows what other differences there were.

"Who is that?" Hermione asked from beside Harry, as she followed his gaze and focused in on Umbridge too, attracting the rest of their year's attention as she did so.

Ron sniggered as he saw Umbridge, a slight grin on his face at the sight of her. "Nice cardigan… do you reckon she's taking tips from Dumbledore."

Harry smiled slightly at that, as he noticed that Dumbledore was indeed wearing a garish, brightly coloured violet robe, with glittering stars on it.

Lavender also giggled as she heard his words, sending Ron an amused look before she leaned over and muttered loudly to Parvati. "Do you reckon she'd let me borrow it? That thing would make a pretty good fancy dress costume!"

Parvati similarly giggled as she heard that, the pair of them soon dissolving into a fit of laughter as they began to critique everything about Umbridge's physical appearance and dress sense.

Harry sent the pair of them a dry look at this before he looked back over to the smug Umbridge. "Her name is Delores Umbridge, the Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, and a twisted, cruel, bigoted Ministry stooge. She's also apparently our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher." Harry paused here, his gaze going back to those around him as his distaste for some of those present battled with his morality. Finally, though, he came to a decision. He might be an admitted bastard, but he wasn't wantonly cruel. "I'd advise you all not to get on her bad side, she's cruel and vindictive and will make you suffer if you cross her."

"How do you know her?" Hermione asked in confusion, the others quieting down now as they looked over at Harry, his warning just then was probably a bit out of character with the teen they knew.

"I met her at the Ministry over the summer and trust me, you only need to meet her once to build up a good picture of just what kind of person she is," Harry replied simply, going into no more detail than that as the rest of them just looked at each other in confusion. As far as Harry was concerned he had given his warning, if they chose not to take it on board then that was their own folly.

Hermione frowned as she heard this, however before she had a chance to question him further, Professor McGonagall emerged with a stool and the Sorting Hat in hand.

Both of which she then placed in front of the staff table, after which she then went back to the antechamber she had previously emerged from and led the new first years into the great hall. Grubbly-Plank noticeably sidled up to the staff table and took her seat as the sorting began.

With the Sorting Hat first starting off with its song for the new year:

'In times 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, so I can tell
The whole sad, sorry tale.

Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those
Whose ancestry's purest."
Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose
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 just 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
Maintained 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.'

"Unite within her?" Harry repeated dryly, considering the centuries of resentments and separation between the four different Houses, it was somewhat optimistic for the raggedy hat to think that such things could be overcome so easily.

"That was a pretty pointed song." Hermione nodded, mistaking Harry's tone for curiosity. "I think the Sorting Hat has picked up on everything that's been going on and is now calling for us all to band together as one."

Harry hummed at that, but said no more, even as Seamus pointedly looked away from him, and the others fell into an awkward silence. One, which was only disrupted when Professor McGonagall started calling out the names of the new students, with those on the Gryffindor table clapping and cheering only those that were put in their House.

'Yes, because the chances of all four House's ever uniting is likely.' Harry thought to himself as he saw this, rolling his eyes as even now, minutes after the hat's song/warning, the Houses were showing their division by only celebrating and supporting those of their own House.

Following on from the sorting, Dumbledore stood up, a jovial expression on his face as he looked around at the students, old and new. "To our newcomers, welcome! To our old hands - welcome back! There is a time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

A loud cheer and a round of clapping followed this statement, even as masses of delicious food suddenly appeared on all four house tables, and everyone swiftly began to dig in, with small talk once again breaking out as those at the table chatted away.

Harry, seeing this, dished himself out a large helping of food, but otherwise skirted around the conversations for the most part. He made sure to remain pleasant, but mostly kept the conversation light.

Mainly though, he listened, picking up on as much as he could as he built up a picture of the other Harry's relationship with these people, and the way he generally acted in public.

Incidentally, as he did this he also picked up on a few other quite interesting things.

For one, it appeared that the other Harry primarily hung around Ron and Hermione and didn't have much interaction with any of the other students in his year.

Though, he did take note of a rather pointed remark from Parvati. Who after speaking to her, he had inferred, he had taken to the Yule Ball. Which he assumed didn't go well, judging by her tone, and her occasional snippy comment.

Similarly, he noted that Neville was somewhat of a social outcast, someone who was friendly with everyone but was not really in any friendship groups. Additionally, this Neville lacked the confidence/arrogance that Harry had expected, instead, he seemed shy and awkward. Most of the time, he just seemed to be glad that he was included in the ongoing conversations.

There were other things he picked up on too, including how the other him had apparently been quite standoffish with the rest of the House, and with the rest of the school in general. With him instead only hanging around Granger and Weasley. Which was good news for Harry, after all that just meant that most people hardly knew him and as such, would not be able to pick up on the changes in his character.

Ron and Hermione of course would, but Harry had the Dementor attack excuse for those two. Plus, he was already planning on putting some distance between them, and slowly but surely breaking up the trio. He wouldn't completely cut them out of his life, as that would both draw Dumbledore's attention and mean losing some potentially useful resources, but he would branch out a bit more, and maybe make use of the fame being The Boy Who Lived gave him. It had to have some use after all.

Soon enough, the feast came to an end and the plates were magically emptied. With Dumbledore once again taking this as an opportunity to stand up and make his traditional start of term speech.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast," Dumbledore began, his long, silver beard moving slightly as he spoke and his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. "I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start of term notices. First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to all students – and incidentally, a few of our older students ought to know this by now, too."

Hermione and Ron noticeably looked at Harry with conspiratorial grins at that, with Harry sending them a feigned grin of his own as he pretended to be in on the secret.

Realistically, though, Harry had never trespassed into the Forbidden Forest during his school years, nor had he ever been caught out of bounds for that matter. Still, appearances had to be maintained, and he could pretend to be the school's proverbial 'bad boy' if needed.

"Mr Filch, the caretaker," Dumbledore continued, making a small gesture to the bitter man in question, in case people had forgotten who he was or just simply did not know," 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 many other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr Filch's office door. 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."

"But how long is that Grubbly-Plank woman staying?" Ron asked in a low mutter, to which no one could offer a response.

"Try-outs for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the-" Dumbledore made to continue, before he paused as a nauseatingly familiar (to Harry at least) sound rang out in the otherwise quiet room.

"Hem, hem."

Every single head in the room turned to look at Umbridge as they heard her fake cough, her interruption and the temerity of it, slowly registering.

No one, as far as he knew, had ever dared to interrupt Dumbledore before, and looking around Harry could see from a glance at the ever stern and uptight Professor McGonagall that the Deputy Head and indeed most of the other teachers for that matter, were all less than impressed by the disruption.

Taking the sudden silence as an opportunity, Umbridge stood up, not that it made that much of a difference as she was rather squat to begin with.

"Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome," Umbridge started to speak, using the same high-pitched, girlish voice that Harry so loathed.

He might not have been in direct conflict with Umbridge the last time around, not like Longbottom and his friends had, but that didn't mean that he hadn't hated the bitch. Harry couldn't think of a single person at Hogwarts during Umbridge's tenure that hadn't hated her, save except for Filch. But he was an arsehole, and thus his opinion was unimportant in Harry's eyes.

"Hem, hem…well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy, little faces looking up at me!"

Looking around the room, Harry could see that no one was smiling. Many looked offended at how this strange woman was speaking to them, it was as if she thought they were all children.

"I'm sure we're all going to be very good friends." Umbridge continued, with an attempt at a pleasant smile.

Once again, the response she received was one of incredulity.

She once again ignored it though, as she instead continued her speech, only now her tone was more business-like.

"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."

Umbridge paused here and took a brief moment to give a short bow to the members of the staff at the table, none of whom responded in kind.

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school," She then continued in her girlish voice, "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 change, between tradition and innovation..."

A sharp intake of breath came from Hermione at that, she had clearly only just now cottoned on to just what Umbridge was actually saying.

Harry though ignored the girl, his cold gaze instead fixed on Umbridge. He already knew just what this woman had planned, and what she would be trying to do.

Harry, though, wouldn't play her games, nor would he fall into her traps like Longbottom had. He wasn't a hothead, nor prone to rashness. What he was though was ruthless, ambitious, and capable of great cruelty if it suited his purposes that is.

"…because some changes will be for the better," Umbridge said with what she possibly considered an encouraging nod. "While others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. 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 ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

"Alright, what the ruddy hell was that all about?" Ron demanded as Umbridge primly sat down, and then gestured for Dumbledore to continue his speech.

"Really, Ron, didn't you listen?!" Hermione hissed, looking sideways at him as she did so. "Like when she said, "progress for progress' sake must be discouraged" and "pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited".

"But what's that mean?" Ron demanded.

"It means that the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts," Hermione said coolly, as she then stood to help lead the first years away, even as Dumbledore concluded his speech and dismissed them for the night.

Harry meanwhile, remained silent, and bode the other two goodbyes before he made to follow Neville to the common room.

Without a word, he moved over, so he was next to the chubby teen as they made their way out of the great hall and towards the common room. After all, he was quite curious about what Longbottom was really like in this time, and whether he was as useless as Harry initially believed he was after their interactions during the feast, or whether he was someone that he could find useful.

( - )

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Greed720.