Hi people,

Here is a new chapter! I hope you enjoy! Hopefully, I could mail you the next one in 3 weeks.

Good reading!

A yell echoed through the manor at the same time as a loud alarm went off in the master bedroom.

"I heard," the occupant growled, cutting the alarm off with a swift gesture.

He got up and quickly made his way to Harry's room for the fifth time that week. The boy struggled violently in his bed, his body arched at an impossible angle. Just like the previous times, Severus put his hands on the teenager's shoulders and firmly held him down. At the same time, he called the boy's name in a sharp voice.

Harry's eyes flew open and he stiffened immediately. Good, Snape said to himself, step 1, wake up Harry, is complete. Now he had to help him find his way back to reality because, although he had woken up, he was still within the grips of his nightmare.

"Harry, look at me!"

In response, Harry suddenly arched his back, trying to escape the professor's firm grip. Snape sighed, frustrated. If he thought that slapping the boy would calm him down immediately, he would definitely have done it already. But he was sure that the Boy-Who-Lived-And-Had-Since-Never-Been-Like-Everyone-Else would react badly to it. So he continued to talk to Harry calmly, until his voice forced its way into the boy's befuddled mind.

"Harry! It's me! Wake up, look at me."

After what seemed like a lifetime but was really a couple of minutes, Harry shuddered and his green eyes met his.

"Where…"

"In your room," Snape replied, still firm but also calm. "You're safe."

Harry tried to get up and Snape helped him sit up. The teenager looked around, visibly relieved, before growing sombre.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking anxious.

"And what exactly are you sorry for this time?" Snape asked, tone ironic.

"For waking you up," Harry replied, looking down at the bed.

The boy was definitely oblivious to Snape's sense of humour. "Merlin, Harry," the Potions Master sighed.

"Father!" the teenager said hastily. "For waking you up, Father."

"Stop!" exclaimed Severus, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders, feeling like shaking him to get what he was going to say into his thick skull.

Harry leaned back slightly so that he could look at him questioningly.

"Stop apologising," Severus explained. "You've done nothing wrong."

"I woke you up," Harry said stubbornly.

"I might start thinking that you miss being punished," Snape said, amused.

"That I… what?"

"It's almost like you're trying to convince me to punish you. If that's all it takes to make you happy…"

Harry swallowed with difficulty. Was Snape serious? He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut – he had been about to apologise again!

Severus sighed. "Seriously, Harry, I would prefer to get up a hundred times rather than see you sleep deprived or drugged up on Dreamless Sleep. The nightmares will get less frequent and then go away. You just need a bit of time. It's no trouble to come as many times as needed, and it doesn't make me angry with you, I promise. Try to get back to sleep; it's almost 6 hours until breakfast."

Harry obeyed without arguing. He was exhausted. Every time he had a nightmare, he felt like he had run a mile or been hit with the Cruciatus Curse. He had never told anyone about that, not even Dumbledore. Or Sirius. Or Dementia. Should he tell Snape? After all, as a former Death Eater, he must have been hit with the Cruciatus Curse a few times!

He let himself sink back into his pillows and fell asleep immediately.

Snape tousled his hair absentmindedly, and stopped as soon as he realised what he was doing. He drew back hastily, thanking Merlin that Dementia wasn't there to see him – he would have had to listen to her sarcastic comments on affection for the rest of the year.

He reset the alarms around Harry and went back to his own room, hoping that he would be able to get a few more hours' sleep.

oOo

Harry opened his eyes, gripped by the convincing feeling that he was in immediate danger. For a moment, he was disoriented. Had a new dream about Voldemort brutally jerked him from sleep?

No… He hadn't had that dream for a few nights now.

Just like his father had promised, after one tough week the nightmares had become more infrequent and then gone away entirely.

For a solid week, his father had come into his bedroom every night, sometimes several times a night, to wake him up, calm him down, reassure him and help him fall back asleep. Then he only had to come three or four times the following week, twice in the third week, and not at all this week.

Harry realised that he had thought of Snape as "his father" for the first time. He had of course called him that since being adopted, but he had never called him that naturally before. Things really had changed between them after only two months…

He heard a muffled noise and jumped.

"Harry!"

Uh oh – the master of the house sounded annoyed. Harry got out of bed immediately, not wanting to antagonise the Potions Master further. In his haste, he banged into his trunk, which was in the middle of his living room. The pain cheered him up – he was going back today! And the feeling of immediate danger hanging over his head was Dementia, who was going to drive him to the station while their father apparated directly to Hogwarts.

"Bloody hell," he moaned, "I'm going to miss the train. Every time!"

He went downstairs towards the hall, limping slightly. Snape was waiting for him near the living room door. The professor raised a questioning eyebrow when he saw how the boy was walking.

"I had a fight with a trunk. It won." Snape sneered and Harry argued, not at all put off by it. "The harmful power of trunks is greatly underestimated by most people! They need to be added to the Defence Against the Dark Arts syllabus!"

The Potions Master smiled, shaking his head at Harry's dishonesty. He was definitely starting to rub off on the boy; Minerva should be happy. Without telling his son what he was thinking, he simply nodded to the upper floor and asked, "Have you talked to Winky?"

"What about?"

"About what she will do when you're at Hogwarts," Snape sighed. "I asked you to decide yourself; either she stays here with Kookie, or she comes to Hogwarts to help in the kitchen."

"Where are Baker and Alima going?" Harry asked.

"Baker will stay with me, obviously. I don't know about Alima – she will probably come to Hogwarts with Demi. But unlike your sister and myself, you cannot ask Winky to do anything for you when you're at Hogwarts – there will be no favouritism."

"I know," Harry protested. "But won't Kookie be bored?"

"She's used to it and I think she's eager for us to leave the house so she can have a bit of peace!"

"Then I think it's better to let Winky come to Hogwarts – I'm worried she'll think I don't want her anymore if I leave her here. I'll explain to her that she can come and see me from time to time but that I'm not allowed to ask her for anything when we're at Hogwarts."

"Good. Go and explain all of that to her and meet me in my study. I need to talk to you."

"Yes, Father."

Feeling a bit worried, although he would never have admitted to it, Harry called Winky. What did Snape want to tell him? Formal discussions with him were never very nice and could even become painful. The young man grimaced at the memory of being punished twice. He quickly explained the situation to the small elf and asked her anyway whether she wanted to stay with Kookie, reassuring her that it would be no trouble for him.

Winky blushed to the tips of her ears at the fact that her young master was giving her the honour of choosing, then admitted to Harry that she was eager to return to Hogwarts to see all those who had neglected her, treating her like a lost elf who would never find another family because she had been fired. She was eager to have her small revenge!

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Winky's boundless enthusiasm and promised her that he would come into the kitchens himself to give her an order if would help give her the moment of glory she wanted. Then he asked her to finish packing and to go and find Demi to ask her on his behalf not to be late.

Then, drawing on all his courage, he walked to his father's study. He briefly hesitated in front of the heavy wooden door and then, sighing, knocked. Snape's voice, mercifully calm and with no hint of anger or sarcasm, answered.

"Come in, Harry."

Wordlessly, Harry sat in the armchair facing his father, repeating an inner mantra; I haven't done anything wrong, I haven't done anything wrong…

Severus looked up at him and couldn't help but smile in amusement at how miserable and scared his son looked. "Have you done something I don't know about?"

Harry jumped slightly and shook his head quickly.

"Good," continued Severus. "So relax - I didn't ask you to come in here to punish you or argue with you."

Harry visibly and immediately relaxed.

"I asked you here," Snape continued, "to talk to you about the coming year. You're now a professor's son, and as such you must change your attitude about certain things."

Harry scowled but didn't argue.

"I'm not one for corporal punishment, but you should know that I will not hesitate to resort to it if need be."

The young man shuddered but didn't look away, and nodded his head curtly to show that he had understood. What a typical, Gryffindor thing to do!

"Good," Snape continued. "Regarding marks, I demand – and I really must insist on this – I demand a minimum of E. I can tolerate lower marks in Divination," he said with disdain, "but only in Divination. Any lower mark in another subject will guarantee you hours of supervised study."

Harry nodded hesitantly; he had paled noticeably. Snape stood up from his armchair and leaned on his desk, facing Harry.

"Harry, you are completely capable of achieving these marks. Even in Potions. If you don't understand something, do not hesitate to come and see me. If you have a bad mark after a difficult night or because you are ill, I will understand. I have set a rule for you, but there is room for exception. And now, that being said, let's talk about your well-developed tendency to have a very loose understanding of the word 'curfew'. I don't want to catch you wandering the corridors at night anymore, or Merlin knows you'll have a sore hand from writing so many lines."

Harry grimaced but again refrained from commenting. Firstly, it would have probably done no good and, secondly, Snape was evil enough to give him a preview of these punishments as soon as they arrived at Hogwarts, just on principle.

"Two more things that will get you punished severely are your outside escapades, whether in the Forbidden Forest, in the grounds or outside Hogwarts, as well as your lack of respect for adults. The same goes for any minor fight."

"It's Malfoy who attacks first most of the time," Harry protested, indignant. "I'm only defending myself!"

"If you use a Shield Charm, I will accept it. But if you use the slightest offensive charm, including expelliarmus, you can be sure you won't escape your punishment. I will punish you in private, without letting your classmates know what will happen. But if you try to escape your punishment, I will make it twice as bad and it will happen in the Gryffindor common room. Is that perfectly clear?"

"Yes Father," Harry said in a raspy voice.

"Perfect. I will apparate to Hogwarts. I have to go to a staff meeting before the students arrive. Dementia will drive you to the train and come with you. If you miss it due to your sister's abysmal time keeping skills, send me an owl. And don't apparate anywhere!"

"Ok, Father," Harry replied absently.

It wasn't that the young man wasn't listening to Snape, but rather that he couldn't hide his surprise. Dementia? Taking the train? Wasn't she meant to just drive him to the station?

"She's going to work in the library with Madam Pince while writing her thesis," Snape said, answering Harry's unvoiced question.

Harry couldn't help but smile widely. Dementia at Hogwarts… Suddenly the idea of spending a school year in Snape's presence felt less terrifying. Of course, he still didn't know how the students and professors would react, and that worried him slightly. Also, he still hadn't asked his father what he was meant to call him during lessons. He was already imagining their expressions and sniggering if he called his father Professor and got himself told off in public.

Maybe Hermione was right; it didn't do any harm to ask and there was no reason why Professor Snape would get angry. In theory, at least…

He watched as his father stood and got his heavy black cloak out of the cupboard. He watched him put it on and walk towards the door of the study. He suddenly realised that Snape was about to leave, and that if he didn't ask his question now, he didn't really know when he would be able to ask him.

He stood and ran after Snape, catching up with him at the front door.

"Father! Wait!"

"Yes?" Snape asked, his hand resting on the door handle.

"I wanted to ask you… er… I mean…" stammered Harry, not knowing how to ask the question without sounding insolent.

"What, Harry? If there is something worrying you just spit it out, I won't be offended at how you say it," Snape promised.

"Ok," sighed Harry, gathering his courage, "what should I call you? In class, I mean."

"Ah."

Snape closed the door that he had opened and sat on the stairs, gesturing for Harry to join him. "Well," he said once Harry had sat next to him, "personally, I would feel ridiculous calling you Mr Potter like before. I will use your first name and talk to you like I would outside of school. As for you, well, I think it's up to you. Would you feel more comfortable calling me professor, or calling me father? Try both and make a decision. But your Gryffindor classmates already know about your adoption and have, for the most part, taken it well, although they didn't see me at your birthday party. As for the other students… I cannot predict their reactions. But you can address me as before, Harry, or call me father, I will not get angry. Do you feel better now?"

Harry nodded.

"In that case, I will go. Get ready to leave – it seems your sister will be arriving at the last minute! See you later."

"See you later, Father."

After his father left, Harry called Winky and asked her if she had seen Dementia. The tiny elf assured him that Dementia had promised to be on time and that 'Mister Uncle of Master Harry' had promised to send her to Snape Manor in time.

Feeling half-reassured, Harry thanked her – which made Winky blush to the tips of her ears again – and asked her to bring his things into the hall. Then he bribed Kookie, who was in the kitchen, to give him a late breakfast, which the elf, who already had Snape's permission to do it, hurriedly made.

At 10:30 Dementia, who was hopping mad, arrived by Floo. Sirius had shoved her unceremoniously into the fireplace and shouted the destination himself. Harry didn't even try to hide his smirk and explained to her that no, it wasn't that they didn't trust her, but that – as she had to admit – her idea of time passing wasn't exactly the same as the rest of the world. Dementia muttered something unintelligible, sat down to drink some herbal tea and opened a magazine. Harry immediately closed the magazine and reminded her that she had plenty of time to read on the train.

After Harry had had a panic attack, they apparated into the train station 10 minutes before the train left. The leaving whistle blew at the exact same moment as Harry, who had never come so close to having a heart attack, climbed into the carriage after the luggage and Dementia.

It only took a few minutes to find the compartment his friends had crammed themselves into.

"Harry!" cried Hermione, relieved. "I was so worried! You almost missed the train!"

"And why do you think that happened," Harry grumbled, gesturing towards his sister.

Dementia pulled a very adult face and Hermione giggled. Then she and Ron who, to Harry's surprise was also a prefect, left to go to the prefect meeting in another compartment, promising to return as quickly as they could. Dementia left just as quickly, leaving him alone with Luna and Neville.

"So," Neville asked, looking embarrassed, "how's it going with Professor Snape? I was shocked he wasn't yelling at us during your birthday party."

"Dementia basically locked him in his lab," Harry said, smiling.

"And he's not too… harsh with you?" asked Dean, who had just come in and remembered when Harry had run away.

"No, it's fine. It's actually better – I wouldn't say it's great every day but… it feels more like having a strict father than just being looked after by the worst professor in Hogwarts who hates me."

"It's already that," his classmate murmured.

"And," Neville interrupted, "what's Dementia doing on the train?"

Harry smiled mysteriously and silenced his friends by saying that Snape had promised he would punish him severely if he let the cat out of the bag. That wasn't completely true; Snape hadn't told him not to do anything, just not to spread it throughout the train that Dementia Snape was the new library assistant.

He started a game of Exploding Snap with Dean, while Neville fussed over his plant and Luna once again read her copy of The Quibbler upside down.

He was just losing the third round when Ron and Hermione came back, furious, and told them that Malfoy and Parkinson were Slytherin prefects. This didn't really surprise Harry and, in fact, he had expected it; although the two Slytherins were horrible to those who they considered beneath them, they were still very good students. Pansy, like Hermione, didn't really draw the professors' attention for her behaviour, and Malfoy was the second best student in their year – behind Hermione, of course. In his opinion, it made sense for both of them to be made prefects.

Ron started a game of chess with Dean, the only Gryffindor capable of holding his own against him in the game, and Harry made himself comfortable while he listened to Hermione and Luna launch into a debate about the existence of crumple-horned snorkacks.

Harry looked at the time and sighed; it was a long time until they would arrive, and he was hungry. And, for the first time since he had started at Hogwarts, he didn't have any galleons. All of his costs were covered by Snape and he hadn't had the chance to go to Gringotts.

"I'm going to go find Dementia," he said, standing up.

"Why?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Because I'm hungry, the food cart is coming round in half an hour, and she has the galleons."

He left the compartment, leaving them to smile at his sulkiness. He looked in compartment after compartment and was about to give up, wondering if Demi had apparated off the train ('you can't apparate on the Hogwarts Express,' Hermione would have said emphatically) when, walking in front of a compartment with drawn curtains, he heard his sister's voice.

He was about to walk in without knocking when he heard the voice that responded to Dementia's joke – Malfoy! He hesitated for a second, then tapped sharply on the window twice.

"Come in," Draco's voice said.

He opened the door and soon found himself being stared at by Malfoy, Pansy, Goyle, Crabbe and Zabini.

"Well, Potter, are you lost?"

Aware that his adoption still wasn't widely known, Harry shot his enemy a cold look and turned towards his sister.

"Can you lend me 5 galleons? The food cart is coming soon and I haven't been to Gringotts."

Dementia took a full money bag out of her handbag and threw it to him. "I went – take it, it's yours."

"Thanks. Sorry but the air in here is stifling…"

Before the young woman or one of the Slytherins could say anything in reply, he closed the door and started walking back to his own compartment. He hadn't made it three steps when he heard the door open quite loudly. He span around and found himself face to face with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who were staring at him menacingly.

"So, Saint Potter, are we resorting to asking for charity now?"

"Get stuffed, Malfoy," Harry replied, teeth clenched.

Malfoy gestured to his goons, telling them not to move, and walked towards Harry, stopping very close to him. He hissed, "I don't know where you met Demi but I advise you to forget she exists. She's better than you! She's much too good to dirty herself talking to a friend of mudbloods and blood traitors!"

Harry shoved Malfoy backwards, and he would have fallen if his two friends hadn't been standing right behind him and caught him at the last moment. Then, forgetting Snape's warnings and not for a second thinking of the consequences, he drew his wand and pointed it at the Slytherin, who was hurriedly doing the same.

Just as they were getting ready to cast Merlin knew what spells, the compartment door opened again and an enraged Dementia stormed out.

"Draco Malfoy, what do you think you're doing? Did you really just leave me alone with that idiot Parkinson and that obsessed Zabini to go muck about in the corridor? It's not a playground! Come on, everyone back in the compartment!"

The two boys hesitated but neither moved.

"Come on!" Dementia ordered, frowning. "Don't make me complain to Professor Snape as soon as we get to Hogwarts!"

Draco had turned towards Dementia and therefore didn't see Harry pale dramatically. He managed to regain control of himself before the Slytherin turned back to him.

"Yes," he said in his drawling voice. "You're right, Dementia, he's not worth it."

Then, he put his arm around the young woman's waist and steered her towards their compartment, followed by the two gorillas.

"I can't believe you abandoned me like that without saying anything! It's not like you were raised by Muggles, were you? You just wait, I'm going to send an owl to your father!"

"But Demi, I…"

But the sound of the door closing drowned out the rest of Malfoy's sentence. Harry sucked in a breath to calm himself down and turned around, angrily making his way back to his friends.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Ron asked, seeing him slam the door open.

"Dementia is at the back of the train."

"So?"

"With Malfoy and his gang!"

"What?" Ron panicked. "Is she thick?"

"Well," Hermione said reasonably, "Snape is the head of Slytherin and friends with Malfoy's parents, so he must have met her already. And don't you think Dementia is perfectly capable of defending herself against teenagers?"

"Obviously," growled Harry, "that's not the problem."

Looking at his stubborn expression, Hermione wondered whether he would say what the problem was. She suspected that Harry was simply jealous. He had had Dementia to himself once, then she had gone to live with Sirius – exactly where he had wanted to live – while he had to stay with Snape, and now he was realising he had to share his sister.

Hermione shook her head slightly but refrained from commenting. She had the feeling that Harry would react badly to her analysis of the situation. The rest of the journey was dominated by Harry's stubborn silence, and Harry himself only moved twice; once to buy some sweets and once to put on his school robes.

When the train came to a halt, he made his way towards a coach and was about to climb into it when a hand pulled him backwards, almost making him fall.

"Come on," Dementia cried to the group, "we'll take the next one! Sorry if I hurt you," she added to Harry, looking about as sorry as a Death Eater who had squashed a ladybird.*

Harry shot her a look worthy of Snape, which didn't seem to affect her as much as the original version, and got into an empty coach.

"Alright, we have 15 minutes until we get to the castle, spill it – what's wrong?"

"Nothing," growled Harry.

"You look like Dad when you do that," she hissed, causing the young man to cough indignantly, still refusing to answer her.

Dementia rolled her eyes, exasperated. Good grief, didn't this boy ever think before he acted? "Can you imagine what Dad's reaction would have been if you'd gotten into a fight before you even arrived at Hogwarts? Do you know what he'll do if he hears people talking about the argument, if he finds out that you got your wand out in the middle of the corridor?"

Harry shuddered but remained stubbornly silent. Dementia sighed; she knew perfectly well what was bothering Harry.

"You're more important than him, you know!"

"What?"

"Malfoy," explained Demi. "I've known him since he was a little boy – Dad is his dad's friend. I didn't see him much, but enough for him to come and say hello when he sees me. But you're more important than him. He's just an acquaintance, you're my brother. Harry, Dad adopted you, and it's final. That means I won't disappear just like that, even if you end up really wanting me to!"

Harry smiled, but couldn't help reminding her that that was exactly what she had done that summer; she had disappeared.

"I know," sighed Dementia, actually looking sorry this time. "I shouldn't have left knowing how tense things were between you and Dad. But he really annoyed me. No… actually, I was already annoyed and he made things worse."

"Why did you argue?"

"Oh," Dementia replied, waving her hand, "nothing important."

The coach slowed down and stopped in front of the castle. Harry didn't press her. Dementia wouldn't tell him anything. He went back to his friends while she walked over to Filch, who quickly led her to the Great Hall where all the professors had gathered. All except for Minerva McGonagall who, like every year, was greeting the new children.

Harry joined his friends at the Gryffindor table just in time for the start of the sorting ceremony. He noticed that the majority of students were looking curiously at the professors' table where, apart from Dementia, there was another new face. She was a tiny witch, puffed up like a bullfrog, dressed in a hot pink material that must have been her robes.

"I've seen Hermione dressed in pink before, but it looked nothing like that," Ron whispered to Harry.

"Same for Demi."

The two boys turned their attention to Dumbledore, who had stood.

"I hope he's not going to announce that Snape has adopted you," Hermione murmured.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Because I want to see Malfoy's face the next time he insults your father…"

The three friends burst out laughing. Harry bit his lip to stop himself when he saw the disapproving look Snape was giving him.

Dumbledore smiled benevolently and began his start of year speech. "My dear children, a new year begins, and this year we are welcoming two new staff members. Firstly Madam Dementia Snape-Johnson who, while writing her thesis on magical psychology, will be assisting our dear Madam Pince in the library. You can go to her for any help you may need for finding books. I hope that you will give her a warm welcome."

Dementia stood and gave the crowd of students a distracted smile. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables clapped politely but half-heartedly. The Slytherin table, who hadn't failed to notice the young woman's surname, clapped loudly, followed by a section of the Gryffindor table – that is, those who knew how Dementia and Harry were linked. There were even a few fervent claps from the young witches who read Dementia's magazine.

Dumbledore let the applause continue for several moments before raising his hand for silence.

"And I would also ask that you give a warm welcome to Mrs Dolores Umbridge, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, who has given us the honour of accepting the Defence Against the Dark Arts position this year."

This time, all tables only clapped politely. Nobody knew anything about this Mrs Umbridge, and her appointment to the Defence position only mildly interested the students. After all, didn't they have a new professor every year?

However, Hermione noticed that Dumbledore's eyes had lost their normally ever-present sparkle and that Minerva McGonagall was looking at her new colleague with a rather tight-lipped expression.

"Before you tuck into the feast, I must inform our new students, and remind certain older students-"

Harry felt Snape, Dementia, McGonagall and Dumbledore looking at him.

"-that the Forbidden Forest is, as its name suggests, forbidden, and that the list of forbidden objects can be found in Mr Filch's office. Moreover, I-"

"Hem hem."

Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, clearly looking for the source of the noise that had interrupted him. He suddenly realised that the noise came from his Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, who was asking to be allowed to speak. Always the gentleman, he stopped his speech and stepped back, allowing the tiny witch to speak.

"Hello children."

The "children" looked at each other silently, smirking. Umbridge sniffed, looking annoyed.

"I will not tolerate a single gap in the education provided within these walls. You are the pride of the wizarding community, our future, and you owe it to yourselves to be polite in every situation."

She watched the students with a strict expression, and the students, who suspected she wouldn't move unless they gave her the satisfaction, mumbled a listless 'hello'. She appeared to be satisfied by that.

"My dear children," she said in an exasperating, shrill, girlish voice that made even Dementia wince, "we are living through a period that some… storytellers… would like to see descend into chaos. You should not let yourselves be frightened by pathological, attention-seeking liars."

Harry didn't need to look up to know that half the school was staring at him.

"You should not hesitate to come and find me if someone tries to scare you," continued the toad disguised as a marshmallow. "I'm here to help you. And, as the Minister wishes, I am also here to put this marvellous school in order. Lessons should be given to you with the same amount of attention that we would use for looking after cats. It is only in this way that you will be able to achieve complete perfection. Progress is an advantage, but progress with the sole purpose of changing things without knowing if these changes are beneficial is not real progress. Together we will make Hogwarts great again, but I cannot do anything without your help!"

Umbridge gave a rippling laugh and sat back down.

Dumbledore stood up again and said, with forced cheerfulness, "Tuck in!"

The plates immediately appeared on the tables. Harry helped himself absent-mindedly and caught Hermione's eye – she looked as sombre as Snape did on his bad days.

"What?" he asked.

"Oh nothing," she replied. "The new professor just explained to us that she is working for the Minister, that she intends to control Hogwarts and that every one of us must denounce anyone who has the courage to say You-Know-Who is back. Oh, and I almost forgot: you are of course a liar who will stop at nothing to profit from the tragic accident that cost Cedric Diggory his life so that you can get attention!"

Harry stared at her wide-eyed, speechless. Ron swallowed and looked at Hermione, shocked.

"Hermione! How do you do that? No one else understood that!"

"Because I listen to what the words mean when they're put together, and not just to their sounds," Hermione replied drily, and then tucked into her meal.

Half an hour later Hermione, dragging a grumpy Ron behind her, gathered the first years to show them the way to the Gryffindor common room. Harry hesitated for a moment, then, feeling his father's severe gaze boring into his back, he followed, hot on their heels.

Just before he left the room, he turned towards the professors' table to try and catch Dementia's reassuring eye. He noticed that the new Defence professor was staring at him, gaze openly hostile, and that Snape's eyes were full of warnings. He sighed and, exchanging a quick smile with his sister, he left the Great Hall.

Several minutes later, sitting comfortably with his friends in front of the common room fireplace, Harry savoured the fact that he was finally back at Hogwarts. But he had to admit that the start of this year didn't give him the same feeling of freedom as in previous years. In fact, while all of his friends knew that at some point or other they would have to talk to their parents about how they were getting on, he was the only one who had to face his father within the walls of the castle itself. He couldn't hide any reprimand, any bad mark, any slip in his behaviour from him.

Yes… this year was going to be very different from the others.

oOo

*A crazy expression from the first chapter of the excellent story by Arcadiane, which can be found in khalya's favourites.