Author's Notes: Here comes my first big break from canon, well except for Harry being Heather and liking boys and…. ok, so here goes my eighteenth break from canon for this book, but hey the entire story is putty in my hands, so I'm gonna play with it a little. Enjoy! And please leave a review, I'd love to hear what everyone thinks!
I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Harry Potter does not belong to me, but to JK Rowling, as my bank account will attest.
Chapter Four
The rest of the summer passed far too quickly in Heather's opinion. She spent a good deal of time playing two a side quidditch with Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. Hermione was a poor player, but still the sides managed a balance and they all had fun. The moments where she could be away from Mrs. Weasley and Fleur, with just her friends were the best for Heather. Getting to truly be herself, and not having to hide from Ron anymore let her relax and enjoy life. News still trickled into this happy bubble of the doings of Voldemort and his Death Eater's but all of that felt very far away at the moment.
Whenever topics of conversation grew spare or she wasn't doing anything, Heather's thoughts trailed back to what she had seen in Diagon Alley. The only way that all of it made sense, at least in her opinion, was that Voldemort had made Malfoy a Death Eater to replace his father. Lucius had been captured at the ministry and sent to Azkaban, something that Voldemort couldn't be too happy about. What better way of both gaining an agent at Hogwarts and punishing Lucius for his failure than to conscript his son.
When she tried to bring this theory up to Ron or Hermione, they were quick to try and put it down. It was insane, they argued, that Voldemort would have a sixteen year old join his forces. What use would he have for Malfoy of all people. Heather thought this was very short sighted, especially of Hermione. When had being underage ever stopped them from doing anything? And why would Voldemort want an agent at Hogwarts, Heather could list off a dozen reasons, from getting information on her or Dumbledore to murdering someone. If Heather didn't know for certain that Voldemort wanted to finish her off himself, she would almost be worried for her own safety.
As it did every year, the first of September and their return to Hogwarts snuck up on all of them. The night before was full of the sounds of yelling and hurried feet on the stairs as the four students scrambled to locate their various belongings and get them into trunks. Most of Heather's undergarments were travelling to school with Hermione, as it would have been very awkward to explain to Mrs. Weasley why bras and knickers were in Heather's laundry. Several times during her stay at the Burrow, Heather had gotten the impression that Mrs. Weasley was watching her questioningly when she thought Heather wouldn't notice. She never said anything, at least not after the first suggestion that he could use a haircut, but still her eyes lingered.
Once again Ministry cars were sent to take them to the train station, where they were met by a small group of hardened aurors who escorted them to the platform. The sight of them sent a small pang of sadness through Heather, again remembering that she would never be one of that group of highly trained wizards and witches. With silent proficiency the group passed through the crowded station full of muggles and through the barrier onto Platform 9 ¾. Many students stopped to say hello to Heather, or called and waved as they hurried by.
Once aboard the scarlet train, the group quickly broke up. Ron and Hermione had to go meet the other prefects to get instructions from the new Head Boy and Girl, and Ginny said she was off to meet her boyfriend, Dean Thomas. That left Heather standing there in the passageway unsure of where to go. She set off down the train looking for somewhere to sit. As she passed compartments many of their occupants stopped to stare or point. Passing a compartment full of fourth year girls, they all began giggling madly and batting their eyelashes at Heather. She silently rolled her eyes at them, If only they knew. Finally, in one of the last compartments she found Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom, the latter of whom had just finished stowing his trunk in the rack.
"Hi, Harry" said Neville cheerily when she had opened the door and stepped inside, "had a good summer? Here let me help you with that."
Heather accepted his help with her trunk, and soon they had it securely in place. "Yeah, pretty good. Spent most of it with Ron and his family. You?"
"Oh yeah" Neville replied, and pulled out his wand proudly, showing it to her. "Gran bought me this after my last one was broken at the Ministry."
"That's great. Hi Luna" Heather said looking over at her. Luna was sitting there, apparently oblivious to the world, reading a copy of her father's magazine, The Quibbler. Heather smiled fondly at the front cover, remembering how it alone had treated her decently last year.
"Hello" Luna replied dreamily, not looking up.
Shaking her head with a smile, Heather turned back to Neville as the train started off. He had grown over the summer, and was almost as tall as Ron. It wasn't just his height that had changed, gone was the roundness of his cheeks and the perpetually nervous eyes. In the place of the boy that Heather had known for five years now sat what she could only say was a confident young man, or at least more confident than she had ever seen Neville before.
"I thought Gran would be really unhappy when she learned about what happened last year, but she wasn't! Says I'm finally living up to my father's legacy." Neville said as their conversation turned to the events of a few months ago.
"You don't need to live up to anything" interjected Luna, looking up from her reading. "You fought Death Eater's and stood beside your friends."
Neville blushed at her words and Heather shot Luna a smile. It never ceased to amaze her how the blonde Ravenclaw could be so bluntly, and sometimes embarrassingly, honest.
Before anyone could say anything else, the door to their compartment opened and a blast of perfume invaded Heather's nostrils. Turning she saw one of the girls who had been giggling standing there, with two friends behind her out in the corridor.
"Hi Harry, I'm Romilda Vane. If you want you can join up in our compartment. You don't need to sit with them" The last word was said as a whisper than no one failed to hear. Neville's face fell at her words.
"These are my friends" said Heather coldly, instantly disliking the girl.
"Oh!" Romilda said with a look of completed surprise and departed quickly.
As the door slammed shut Luna mused, "People expect you to have much cooler friends than us."
"Yeah" said Neville dejectedly.
"Listen, you both are cool. None of them were there when I needed them. They didn't fight by my side. And Neville, Luna's right. You don't need to live up to anyone other than yourself."
"I know, it's just…" he said and trailed off
"I get it, I do. I know what it's like to grow up with someone who can only see flaws, it's not easy. But trust me, you're a fantastic wizard." Heather said nicely, and she saw his shoulders lift at her words.
"That's a very nice thing to say" said Luna, beaming before putting on a pair of Spectrespecs and resuming reading.
Conversation shifted to their O.W.L. grades. Neville had done well in Herbology but was afraid his other scores weren't up to continuing most of his subjects. As he spoke Heather's mind drifted to the prophecy. For reasons beyond her, Voldemort had decided that she posed a greater threat to him than Neville, despite his pure blood ideology. What would life be like, she wondered, if Voldemort had gone after the Longbottoms instead of her parents.
"Harry" said Luna, breaking her from her reverie, "Are you ok?" She had looked up when Heather had apparently not responded to something that Neville had said.
"Oh, yeah. Sorry, Neville just lost in thought."
It wasn't much longer before Ron and Hermione turned up and joined them. Ron wasted no time in telling Heather that Malfoy wasn't doing prefect duty, which added to the many things about Malfoy that Heather was pondering. Any attempt she might have made to force another conversation about her suspicions was cut off by the arrival of a small third-year girl.
"I'm supposed to deliver these to y-you" she stammered, handing Heather and Neville two small scrolls of parchment. Her assignment done, she fled.
Already half expecting what this was, Heather opened it to find an invitation from Slughorn, who was apparently aboard the train, inviting her to lunch in another compartment. Neville looked at her curiously, completed flummoxed as to why he had been invited. When it was almost noon the two of them left Ron, Hermione, and Luna setting off down the train. Heather at first had insisted they use the invisibility cloak to get a view of the Slytherin compartment but the mess of students filling the passageway made that impossible. At the very least it was pleasant to be greeted with smiles and calls instead of glares and whispers by her fellow students. In the car where they were to meet Slughorn, Heather was stopped by a group of former D.A. members, including Justin Finch-Fletchley.
Trying very hard not to stare at the tall Hufflepuff, who it seemed had grown several inches since the last time she had seen him, Heather replied to queries about her summer and if the D.A. would be returning. She had no plans to revive the group since they would have a qualified teacher, even though it would give her a good reason to try and spend time with Justin, she told herself. Extricating themselves from the group, Heather and Neville arrived at the compartment where Slughorn had taken up court.
The next few hours were exactly as Heather had been dreading. Slughorn had handpicked roughly a dozen students from across the school, mostly selected because of a famous relative, and made every attempt to ingratiate himself with them. One, a boy a year above Heather, by the name of Marcus Belby quickly fell from favor after it turned out he didn't spend much time with a successful uncle of his. Slughorn interviewed each student in turn, and it was clear by his face which of them he felt would warrant his future attention. Heather felt very uncomfortable in the stuffy compartment next to Neville, trying her best not to dread her eventual turn.
With an air of having saved the best for last, Slughorn turned to her and began asking rather pointed questions about what had happened at the ministry and about being 'The Chosen One.' With Dumbledore's request in the back of her mind, she tried to be polite and answer but as the old man blustered on and on about Heather before eventually transitioning into long winded anecdotes about former students. Heather could tell that most of the group was enthralled with these stories, the two exceptions, besides herself, being Ginny, and Blaise Zabini, a Slytherin.
As evening fell Slughorn wrapped up telling them about his connections with Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team, and sent them on their way to change before school. With a rush, Heather realized that Zabini, who had wasted no time in leaving, was about to enter the Slytherin compartment where Malfoy was holding court. She abandoned Neville and Ginny without a word and raced after him under her cloak.
The corridor was mostly empty, most students had already returned to their compartments to change into their robes. However, with the head start Zabini had gotten, Heather wasn't able to reach the door before he had slammed it shut. Vexed at herself, she sat there invisible as Malfoy lay his head in Pansy Parkinson's lap. Mentally regretting that she wasn't carrying an extendable ear, Heather pressed her ear to the glass, trying to listen. It seemed that someone inside hadn't wanted their conversation overheard however, because as quiet as she was nothing that was spoken could be heard.
After a full ten minutes of straining to hear even the slightest whisper, Heather gave up and made her way back to her compartment. Neville had already gotten there and was halfway into pulling on his uniform. Heather grabbed her clothes and followed Hermione and Luna down to the tiny toilets at the end of the compartment to change, not being quite as willing as the boys to strip down together. No one made any comment at that, Heather's more feminine tendencies having long been accepted by her friends.
When the train came to a stop in Hogsmeade Station, a surprise was waiting for them as they descended onto the platform.
"Wotcha, Harry" a bright voice called across a group of first years. Tonks was waving at her. Next to her stood a man that Heather recognized as Dawlish. He had been part of Cornelius Fudge's entourage last year when they had tried to arrest Dumbledore. After the first years had passed on their way to Hagrid, Heather pushed through the crowd to meet her. She still looked as mousy as she had in the kitchen at the Burrow, but her eyes had lost their almost dead look.
"Tonks, what are you doing here?"
"We're stationed here in Hogsmeade as added security for the school." Tonks said brightly, waving in turn at the rest of the group. Heather let her eyes wander to the intimidating person of Dawlish, who was pointedly not looking at her but around the platform. Idly Heather wondered if his lack of ability to defend himself last year had more to do with Dumbledore's prowess or Dawlish's lack thereof.
The surge of the crowd pushed Heather along before she could say anything else, and ten minutes later they were all safely ensconced into one of the school carriages, on their way up to the castle. The warmth of the hall enveloped them as they entered the oak front doors. In the Great Hall they found seats and waited for the feast to begin. Heather caught sight over Ron's shoulder of Justin Finch-Fletchley. Thankfully at that moment Dumbledore stood and gave a few brief words, giving her a reason to look away before she got caught.
In that moment Heather realized just how hungry she was. The small luncheon Slughorn had thrown seemed hours ago, and her stomach felt like an empty pit. In a very Ron-like fashion, she piled her plate high with all of her favorite foods, but restrained herself not from diving into it face first. After eating her fill, and somewhat more than she should have, she set down her knife and fork and gazed around the hall. While the room was no different then it had been when she had left two months ago, the entire air had changed.
It was very subtle, and to someone who had never seen Hogwarts before the war they wouldn't notice it at all. Conversation flowed freely all around her, but there was just the slightest hint of strain in almost everyone's voice. It was as if the cheer they were trying to portray was hollow, just to cover up their fear.
When Dumbledore stood after everyone had finished silence fell at once. After his usual start of term announcements, he announced news that stunned the entire hall. Slughorn, who Heather had assumed would be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, was in fact replacing Snape as Potions Master. Snape, who looked extremely smug about his new position, was taking over the class he had wanted since his first day teaching. Mentally wondering how torturous Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons were going to be that year, Heather gulped audibly.