[I own nothing in the Harry Potter franchise. All such content belongs to J.K. Rowling.]

Harry sat up and stretched out. He'd been fast asleep for hours in his compartment, and gave a shuddering yawn as he looked at the rain-soaked window to his left.

Must be mid-afternoon or something.

Then he turned to grab one of his books on the opposite seat, and almost jumped at the sight of an unknown girl sitting to the right, near the sliding door. She was wearing plain black robes and had a heart-shaped face, a slightly upturned nose, large violet eyes, and short, messy brown hair.

"About time you woke up," she said, shutting her Dark Arts spellbook. "Been studying all night or something?"

Harry nodded as he rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses.

"Anyway ..." The girl flicked her wand and opened the trunk at her feet. "I bought these while you were in snooze land. You look like you really need them."

There were stacks of Chocolate Frogs, pumpkin pasties, and chocolate bars packed neatly in the girl's trunk. Harry decided to grab himself a Chocolate Frog and finish it in silence.

"I'm not poor or anything," the girl said, snorting. "Help yourself to whatever you want."

Of all the things which could have happened that day, Harry wasn't expecting some random student to come out of nowhere and act all generous. It was puzzling, to say the least.

"I saw you at the World Cup, by the way," the girl said. "Then again, it's hard to miss a celebrity."

Harry said nothing, and was still trying to figure out whether he'd ever seen this student before. Her features seemed strangely familiar to him somehow.

"Can't believe what happened," she said, with a slight frown on her face. "I mean, I've been to plenty of World Cups before but never expected to see that! Must've been terrifying for the Muggle-borns and stuff."

If anything, Harry could at least guess that this girl was either a half-blood or a pure-blood (not that it really mattered, of course).

"What about you?" she asked, eyeing Harry in a curious manner. "Did you hide or something? Can't blame you if you did."

But Harry was more focused on the dangers of that year than anything else, especially in light of recent events. It was no wonder he'd had such a broken night of sleep.

"Hellooo." The girl waved her hand at Harry. "Earth to the Boy Who Lived?"

"Sorry, what?" Harry blinked to get his eyes in focus again. "You were saying?"

"Never mind." The girl paused for a moment and rubbed her chin. Then she requested to see Harry's latest examinations-results, which caught him off guard. "I'm just curious, if you don't mind."

Harry did as asked and handed over a roll of parchment, which read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

THIRD-YEAR EXAMINATIONS RESULTS

Pass Grades: Outstanding (O), Exceeds Expectations (E), Acceptable (A)

Fail Grades: Poor (P), Dreadful (D), Troll (T)

O: 80% and above

E: 70%–79%

A: 50%–69%

P: 40%–49%

D: 30%–39%

T: 29% and below

HARRY JAMES POTTER HAS ACHIEVED:

Astronomy: 77% (E)

Care of Magical Creatures: 100% (O)

Charms: 110% (O)

Divination: 73% (E)

Defence Against the Dark Arts: 150% (O)

Herbology: 78% (E)

History of Magic: 75% (E)

Potions: 85% (O)

Transfiguration: 90% (O)

Average: 93.1%

"Not bad." The girl smiled while looking at the parchment. "You really know your Defence Against the Dark Arts, don't you?"

Harry shrugged and explained that although last year's teacher, Professor Tonks, was a massive step-up from her predecessors, it was still Harry's own studies that kept him ahead. Then he went on to changing the subject. "Are you a Gryffindor, maybe?"

"Nope." The girl shook her head. "I'll give you one more guess."

Harry thought long and hard for a few seconds. "Hufflepuff?"

"Nope again." The grin spread even wider across the girl's face. "That's it. You're out, sorry."

And the awkward silence returned to the compartment, until Harry finally brought himself to ask the girl's name.

"Merula Snyde," she said, looking amused. "You could've asked me earlier, you know."

And that was when the realisation hit Harry like a hammer. Now he knew why this 'student' seemed strangely familiar to him. "Wait, you're Merula? I heard a thing or two about you from Professor Tonks."

Merula rolled her eyes. "Well, duh. I was in the same year as her daughter after all. Nymphadora was a real character, that one."

"So, what are you doing on the train, then?" Harry asked, knowing full well that Merula had finished a few months before Harry had started. "I'm pretty sure there's no eighth year and above at Hogwarts."

Merula was still smiling. "Take a guess."

After a few seconds' thought, Harry came to the conclusion that Merula was probably here to assist the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor – whoever that turned out to be. She had been reading a Dark Arts spellbook after all.

"Close, but no cigar." Merula looked smug as she tilted her nose in the air a bit. "I'm not here to assist the new professor. I am the new professor."

Wait, what? Harry blinked. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, why?" Merula's smile turned to a narrow-eyed expression. "For your information, I got some real history with the Dark Arts. But then again, so do you, huh?"

Harry ignored that last part, and he changed the subject to the Triwizard Tournament instead.

"Wish I could enter," he said, with a slight sigh. Merula agreed.

"Yeah, me too. Pity I'm so old."

Harry snorted with laughter. "No, you're not. And besides, it must be great to be out of school and stuff."

At which Merula went into a wistful speech regarding how you only missed Hogwarts once you were gone. Hence she felt the urge to travel as a student again.

"Don't judge me, OK? I just felt like it."

They spent the next half an hour going through Merula's pile of snacks in her trunk, which she divided between them.

"So," she said, after swallowing a pumpkin pasty, "I heard you play Quidditch. Is that true?"

Harry nodded. "Chaser, yeah. Or Seeker, if I feel like it."

"I can fly pretty good too," said Merula, while unwrapping a Chocolate Frog. "What model broom do you use?"

"Nimbus Two Thousand and One."

Merula nodded in a satisfied manner. "Cool. I've got one too, you know. Maybe we can fly together someday ... or against each other?"

It didn't take a genius to see that Merula had a passion for flying. She and Harry spoke at length regarding Quidditch teams, different models of broomsticks, and their past experiences in the game. And before Harry knew it, a fair portion of the afternoon had passed by the time he checked his watch.

"You shouldn't do that," said Merula, sitting with one leg crossed over the other. And when Harry shrugged in a 'What?' kind of way, Merula gestured to his watch. "People will think you've lost interest in the conversation if you check that thing. It's rude."

Sure, whatever. Harry shrugged it off and leaned back in his seat. "You still haven't told me which house you were in, by the way."

"Slytherin, of course."

And the conversation picked up once again as Harry and Merula described some of their time at Hogwarts. It amazed either of them to hear what the other had got up to over the years, though they seemed to keep things vague wherever they could.

"So, yeah, that's it," Harry said, scratching the side of his hair. He'd told of how his first year had been relatively normal until Quirrell tricked him into going after the Philosopher's Stone, the fact that Harry's second year turned into a mess (which Merula had already heard from Professor Dumbledore), and that last year had been surprisingly normal, for a change.

"Can't say the same for me," Merula said, with a slight chuckle. "All my years were crazy."

Harry was about to ask for more details when he heard a slight commotion outside. And when he got up and opened the sliding door of his compartment, he overheard Ronald Weasley and Draco Malfoy having a go further up the corridor.

"I heard even your rat took off. God, I can't imagine how filthy your shack must be."

"Shut up, Malfoy. Don't you talk about Scabbers!" There was a brief bit of silence, followed by: "I bet your dad's real proud of that riot, huh? Old habits die hard."

Draco scoffed. "We'll see who's laughing later this year, when you put on that ridiculous outfit of yours ..."

At which Harry shut the door and returned to his seat. He was in no mood for drama, though Merula's expression suddenly turned thoughtful.

"Huh, now that's just weird," she said, rubbing her chin. "I'm pretty sure Percy Weasley's rat had the same name. I was a fourth-year when he started, by the way."

Harry wasn't sure where this conversation was headed. He had no interest in discussing the Weasleys' pet rat, which had abandoned them for some reason over the holidays.

"If it's really the same one," said Merula, "then that's just odd. I mean, there was nothing special about that thing anyway. Too bad I can't take a better look at him."

"How come?"

Merula shrugged. "Normal-looking rats like Percy's tend to live for three years or so. Anyway, where are your dress robes? I'm wearing my old outfit from the Celestial Ball."

Harry pulled out his dress robes from his trunk. They were black velvet with a high collar (which made him look like a vicar), and had green lining which was said to complement Harry's eyes.

"Huh." Merula nodded in a thoughtful manner. "They sorta look like Draco's. You know I once babysat him, right? His father brought him along for a school inspection eight years ago."

Truth be told, Harry's dress robes had been chosen to compete with Draco Malfoy's. He explained that it was due in no small part to Mrs Tonks (or rather, 'Professor Tonks', as Harry still called her), whom Harry had shared a campsite with at the World Cup final. In fact, all three Tonkses had pushed to have Harry's dress robes custom-made at Twilfitt and Tatting's.

"Typical," said Merula. She pulled out her own dress robes and showed them to Harry. "What do you think, huh? You'd better not say they're outdated or anything."

Although by no means a fashion expert, Harry eyed the long black dress and gave a nod of approval. It had slits at the legs, a green sash beneath the chest, and was accompanied by long black gloves and green heels.

"Watch me show these babies how a real girl dresses to a ball," Merula said, with a smug grin on her face. "Just make sure you pick the right one for the occasion, 'cause people often get crazy around that stage."

Harry felt his cheeks heat up at this conversation. So he sat down and pulled out his wand instead. "Can we go over the Shield Charm? I've been practising since last year."

"Sure," said Merula. "Now throw a spell at me."

And they spent the next hour or so going over the Shield Charm, both in theory and in practice. Harry found it easy enough to block minor jinxes; but when it came to stepping things up, Merula advised him on branching out instead.

"The Shield Charm's more of a general cover against petty stuff," she reminded Harry, "though that's not to say that it's useless against worse. It's just that having a better understanding of specialised spells, such as hex deflection, can go a long way in boosting your Shield Charm. That's why the best wizards can mix and match so quickly, while less-proficient ones often get stuck with the basics."

All too soon, the sky had darkened and the train had reached Hogsmeade station. Harry grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's cage, and made his way out into the corridor alongside Merula. And seeing as nobody dared to push their newest professor (regardless of her history at school), Merula (and therefore Harry) was given a wide berth on her way to the nearest door.

"Lovely weather tonight, eh?" Merula said. She snorted with laughter as Harry rushed through the downpour. "So much for that ninety per cent. Why don't you put your Transfiguration to use, like this?"

And she waved her wand and conjured two green umbrellas; one for her and the other for Harry. But before Harry could grab the nearest Thestral-drawn carriage up ahead, he saw Merula making a beeline towards a large, familiar silhouette to the left.

What the –? She's not a first-year.

"Hi, Hagrid! How've you been?"

"Bit chilly," said Hagrid, with a slight shiver. "So it's true then, eh?"

Merula shrugged. "What's true?"

"That yeh're joinin' the staff table this year. Always knew yeh had it in you, Merula." Then he spotted Harry and waved. "All righ' there, Harry? Yeh'd better keep yer wits about yeh with this one."

"Very funny," said Merula, turning around to face Harry in the downpour. "Come on, let's grab a carriage before they drive off."

"You mean walk off ... or gallop or whatever."

Merula froze, and not from the weather. "I knew it. So you can see them too. Is it because of ... your parents, maybe?"

"Not really, no."

At which Harry told of how Quirinus Quirrell had met his end. The jist of it was that Quirrell had taken Harry hostage when Dumbledore had (unexpectedly) arrived at the Mirror of Erised, and that Harry broke free after grabbing Quirrell's hands (he left out the burning part, as that was private information). After that, Harry ran for cover while Quirrell tried – and obviously failed – to defeat Dumbledore.

"So, yeah," said Harry, as they approached the nearest carriage. "After a while Quirrell threw some Fiendfyre at Dumbledore ... and the rest is history."

Merula snorted. "And to think I once interviewed the Muggle Studies professor as part of my teacher-appreciation assignment. I wonder what went wrong with him?"

Voldemort did.

The journey up to the castle was met with pounding rain and a howling gale, the latter of which caused the carriages to sway dangerously up the sweeping drive. And when it came to climbing out at the great oak front doors, Harry and the rest of the crowd hurried up the stone steps and rushed into the castle.

SPLASH.

"Argh!"

A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped out of the ceiling and onto some unfortunate student's head in the crowd.

"Oh, great, it's Peeves," said Merula, rolling her eyes. "Impedimenta!"

The next few water balloons that were dropped ended up being slowed to a crawl by Merula's spell, giving the crowd more than enough time to duck into the Great Hall. Then out came Professor McGonagall, at which Harry and Merula entered the Hall together (while Peeves blew a raspberry, gave the finger, and cussed at Merula).

"That's quite enough, Peeves!" said Professor McGonagall. She waved her wand and vanished the mess that had been made earlier. "Thank you, Miss Snyde."

Merula smiled and made her way up to the staff table, while Harry turned left and walked down the aisle between the wall and his house table. He greeted some of his housemates – particularly his Quidditch teammates – along the way before reaching his usual spot at the far end of the table, where his fellow fourth-year housemates were sitting.

"Oh, look who's back," said the pug-faced Pansy Parkinson. "How's it feel to be the new teacher's pet, huh?"

Harry ignored the remark. Then he plonked himself to the left of a girl with long blonde hair and a kind face, and who greeted Harry with a bright smile.

"So, how is she?" asked Daphne Greengrass. "The new teacher, I mean."

"All right," said Harry. "But I miss Professor Tonks."

There was a mixed reaction from the rest of the group. Pansy, the oval-bespectacled Tracey Davis, and the stern-faced Susan Bones were quick to agree, whereas Harry's roommates (Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle) weren't so sure.

"Mother and Father are far more approving of our current teacher," said Draco, who was sitting between Vincent and Gregory as usual. "Snyde should be better than my Mudblood-loving aunt, irrespective of whether she's changed over time."

Susan crossed her arms and glared at Draco across the table. "Oh really? And who's the one who said that Mrs Tonks was actually a decent teacher? I think his name starts with a 'D'."

Draco shrugged. "Doesn't change the fact that she married a Mudblood. Talk about sinking your family name."

Harry had always found it funny how Susan Bones, of all people, had ended up in Slytherin (as opposed to Gryffindor or Hufflepuff), though he was quick to remind himself that his own membership had also caused quite a stir. But that was old news by now, and Harry instead focused his attention on Merula taking her seat at the staff table, right next to Professor Dumbledore.

"Look at that," said Draco, sniggering. "They've got the youngest and the oldest sitting right next to each other."

The others chuckled, and Pansy threw in a quick remark of her own. "You know what's funnier? She's your babysitter!"

Draco ignored the remark.

Seconds later, the Sorting Hat was placed on a stool overlooking the house tables. It sang a lengthy song which was different from last year, though neither Harry nor his housemates could care one bit.

"Come on, hurry up," Harry muttered. "Can't we just eat already?"

Then came the Sorting Ceremony, at which Professor McGonagall unrolled a large scroll of parchment and started calling out names.

"Ackerley, Stewart."

The trembling boy was eventually Sorted into Ravenclaw, followed by 'Baddock, Malcolm' becoming the first new Slytherin. And while Harry and the rest of his housemates applauded their newest member, Fred and George Weasley on the other side of the Great Hall made a show of hissing Malcolm Baddock as he sat down near the middle of the table.

"What a bunch of losers," said Daphne, narrowing her eyes. "You'd think the O.W.L.s would have straightened them out, at least."

But Harry couldn't care less at that point, and he gave a slight groan as the Sorting Ceremony continued at its usual pace.

This'll take forever.

About forty minutes later, the Sorting Ceremony concluded and Professor Dumbledore told everyone to 'tuck in'. Harry wasted no time in stuffing himself as he awaited the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament.