Dobby's Deceit

by La Morraine

What if Dobby bound himself to Harry without Harry knowing about it? How would that influence the story? [Harry/Hermione]

6. Chapter 6

Dear readers, I feel that I should make a few things clear:

First, according to Pottermore, Fleamont Potter is Harry's paternal grandfather, not Charlus, and Euphemia (no maiden name recorded) is his paternal grandmother, not Dorea (or any other) Black. It has bearing on the story, and also, it comes right from J.K. Rowling, so her canon trumps your fanon. Harry might be distantly related to the Blacks (as all old families appear to be related to each other, more or less), but not enough for the Black family magic to accept him as the heir with any kind of grace without Sirius' blood adoption.

Secondly, while I generally enjoy your reviews immensely, commenting with a mere "update" after I've literally just posted a shit ton of words is not going to endear you to me. I'll thank you to keep your entitlement to yourself if you don't have anything nice or constructive to say.

To all the rest of my readers: thank you for your kind comments and helpful information. I won't go into detail, but some of it plays nicely right into my story, and I also love learning new things.

For those who think the story is too slow-paced, or who don't like my way of telling the story: you know where the back button is.

---

Dobby's Deceit

Part 6

The first of September usually couldn't come soon enough, but this year Harry dreaded stepping onto Platform 9 3/4. Not only would he be leaving his wonderful new home behind, he finally had found family that cared for him and wanted to be close.

"It'll be all fine," Sirius' slightly rough voice crooned. He held Harry tightly in his arms and kissed his hair. "We have the journals, and your cottage is so well-hidden that no one will ever find me there."

"Promise me you'll stay safe," Harry whispered into the man's chest. "No coming to Hogwarts, and no going after whoever it is you were after."

Sirius chuckled darkly. "That has already been dealt with, pup, don't worry." He loosened the embrace so he could look Harry in the eyes. "You go on and have a wonderful year. Your Hermione will probably take up a good portion of your time, but don't forget to have fun with your other friends."

"Balance," Harry said solemny.

"Balance," Sirius agreed, his grey eyes soft with affection.

Someone cleared their throat. "Heir Potter, it is time for you to go to King's Cross. You have only thirty minutes left."

Harry sighed. It had been generous of Sharptooth to make his office availabe for their goodbyes and he was grateful, but waiting until the last minute to actually leave was also making it much harder than he had anticipated.

"I'll see you at Yule," Harry said. "And Easter."

"Yes." Sirius pulled him into his arms again and rather obviously scented Harry's neck like some kind of animal. It was one of his stranger quirks, but one Harry could live with. "I could still kidnap you. Homeschooling is far superior to Hogwarts' current education."

Harry grinned, even as his eyes stung a little. "If this year's Defence professor is as bad as the last two, we can do that."

"That's a promise." Sirius finally let go of Harry. "I love you, Harry."

"You, too," Harry mumbled, heart skipping a beat in his chest.

Sirius' kind gaze went to Dobby, who had patiently waited for them. "Please take him to the train and watch over him."

"Yes, Lord Black," the elf said solemnly. "Dobby be taking good care of Harry Potter sir."

After one last hug and a slightly stubbly kiss to his forehead, Harry took Dobby's small hand in his and allowed himself to be taken away.

Reappearing in a dark niche at King's Cross, Dobby first enlarged all of Harry's luggage, weightless to make getting on the train easier, and then made himself invisible so Harry could cross the barrier like certain people expected him to.

To his great relief, Hermione and her parents were already there, all of them visibly lighting up as they saw him coming.

"Harry!" Hermione flew into his arms and kissed his cheek. "Are you ready for Hogwarts?" From his carrier, Crookshanks gave a content little rumble.

"Uhm, yeah." He returned the kiss before embracing Emma and even getting pulled into a loose man hug by Dan. "You're obviously looking forward to it."

"Yes. I've set myself several goals this year," she replied ominously, not elaborating at his questioningly raised eyebrows.

"We have a little time yet," Emma said with a smile. "You can get on the train now, or we could sit for a bit before the train leaves."

Choosing to sit, Harry pulled four small bottles of Dobby's lemonade from his book bag and passed them around. "With compliments from my friend."

Dan took a long pull. "Man, I love this stuff. What's in there, anyway? It's some kind of energy drink, isn't it?"

"Er, maybe a little. Dobby uses special ingredients, but they're healthy, I promise."

"Well, I'm not complaining," Emma said with a smile. "We're both fit for our hike in Dartmoor next weekend."

"I'm a little envious, but we've got so many new classes that it almost counts as a hike." Hermione took a drink from her lemonade. "You'll send pictures, right?"

"Of course we will." Dan ruffled her hair, causing her to squeak in horror.

"Dad! I spent hours trying to make it behave!"

Harry felt her pain and patted her shoulder. "It's a lost cause, 'Mione. I gave up ages ago."

"But I wanted to be pretty," she mumbled, trying to make her hair lie at least a little flat.

"You're pretty no matter what," Harry said loyally. "And I like your hair all wild."

"So much more game than you," Emma whispered to Dan, smirking. She then glanced at her watch and sighed. "Only five more minutes. You should board the train and find seats."

"Yes, let's." Hermione sighed. "I'm not looking forward to Malfoy's annual harassment."

"Well, you do know the strike points exceptionally well," Dan said, asking, "What?" when Emma elbowed him.

Hermione's parents helped them maneuver their school trunks and Crookshank's carrier onto the train and hugged both teens. As Hedwig disliked her cage intensely, Harry had decided to donate it to the second hand shop on Diagon Alley. It freed up his hands nicely and had the added bonus of him being able to help Hermione with her things, which, as Sirius had assured him, was still looked upon favorably by witches who were perfectly capable of casting their own featherlight charm.

"Chivalry will never die," Sirius had advised him, followed by handing Harry a small book on wizarding etiquette. "Having the ladies on your side may very well swing things in your favour, and I'm not talking about being an outrageous flirt."

"Stay safe," Emma said. The engine driver gave a warning whistle. Only two more minutes. "We really don't want to take Hermione out of school, so be smart, alright?"

"Smart is not the problem," Harry replied.

"We're not the ones to start it. Usually," Hermione added. She grinned cheekily. "Bye, mum, dad. Love you!"

The train whistle blew again and they withdrew from the car door. From afar, Harry spied a horde of Weasleys running through the barrier and after the moving train.

"The Weasleys never make it on time," he commented.

Hermione snorted, floating her trunk into the corridor. Crookshanks, who was balanced on top, meowed disdainfully. "One would think that they knew how to organize on this day after so many years." She glanced into the nearest compartment. "This one is full."

Harry shrugged the Weasleys' plight off - it was easy to Floo or apparate to Hogsmeade, after all - and turned his full attention to Hermione. "Why don't we ask Dobby to help us?"

"Dobby will!" the elf squeaked, becoming visible. "Harry Potter sir be waiting here. Dobby be back in a moment!" He was back almost immediately, ears a little drooped. "There be only one compartment, but it not be completely empty. Dobby be sorry."

"It's not your fault," Hermione said gently. "Please show us."

With a snap of his fingers, they lost the grip on their luggage. With nothing left to do but follow the little creature, they made their way through the train. Close to the rear end, Dobby opened a compartment door.

"This be it," he said. "Wolf man be sleeping, but Dobby can put up silencing ward."

"Hm, better not," Hermione said, looking regretful but resolved. "See the luggage up there? If he's on the way to Hogwarts today, he might be a new professor, and if there's trouble, he should be able to react."

Harry couldn't fault her for her logic. "Yeah, maybe he was told to take the train with us because of Sirius Black."

"Remus J. Lupin," Hermione muttered, reading the plaque on the somewhat shabby suitcase. "Lupin means wolf. Huh. Dobby, you called him wolf man, didn't you?"

"He be wolfy man," Dobby confirmed. "He be dangerous, but only one night a month."

Suddenly blanching, Hermione stepped back, frantically pulling at Harry's arm. "He's a werewolf! And the full moon was last night!"

"So?" Harry entered the compartment and sat down across from Lupin. "You heard Dobby, he's only dangerous once a month, and that was yesterday." A sly grin tugged at his lips and before he could stop himself, he added, "Not unlike a girl, right?"

Hermione was so scandalized that she forgot her fear. "Harry!" She quickly got into the apartment and closed the door behind her. "That was uncalled for!"

"Sorry, sorry, but it's ridiculous to be afraid of him just because he's sprouting a little fur once a month. We don't know anything about him, yet. He could be a good guy! As you said, he might even be a new teacher. Can you imagine Professor McGonagall or Professor Flitwick allowing someone dangerous into the school?"

Huffing, Hermione plopped down into the seat next to him. "I suppose that's true. And now? Do we just stay here?"

"Why not? We're as alone as we're gonna get," Harry replied with a shrug. "At least for now. I think I hear the twins trampling; seems like they made the train after all."

A few moments later, their compartment door was ripped open and a panting Ron stumbled in.

"Here you are!" he cried. "Why didn't you wait for me? I saw you walking away when the train set off! You could've helped me with my trunk."

"Mind your voice!" Hermione hissed, pointing at Lupin's slumbering form. Crookshanks in her lap hissed as well. "How is it our fault that your family was late? Again?"

Ron flushed angrily. "You still could've helped me."

Harry, who had no desire to sit with Ron while he was in a temper, sighed, drew his wand, and set the trunk onto the shelf above the seats with a muttered levitating spell.

"Honestly, it's like you regularly forget that you are a wizard," Hermione said bitingly.

Even Harry's ears rang with the severity of it.

"Just in case you didn't know, I haven't really missed you," Ron shot back. "Bloody hell. And what is that monster on your lap? A lion?"

"Crookshanks is a half kneazle. If you could finally lower your voice so the sleeping passenger can remain asleep ..." Hermione dismissed Ron with a last glare and started rummaging in her carrier bag.

"What's wrong with her?" Ron demanded, eyes narrowed. "Did she start her girl stuff over the summer?"

"One more word, Ronald, and I'll put you in a full body-bind," Hermione threatened.

Harry sighed again. "Maybe you should shut it, Ron. You were too late, just like we were too late last year."

"That barmy house elf stopped us," Ron argued. "It's not our fault."

"We arrived at the barrier three minutes before the train left!" Harry retorted, fed up with the discussion. "Dobby didn't help, but we were late! Blame your parents, if you want, but leave Hermione and me out of it."

"Fine, take her side!" Ron got up and slammed out of the compartment, making sure to be as loud as humanly possible.

"He's a horrible boy," Hermione growled, closing the door again with her wand and casting a locking spell. Glancing at the still sleeping man across from her, she deflated. "I'm sorry, Harry. I told myself to be good."

"He insulted you and acted like a prat," Harry said with a shrug. "You could've been nicer about it, but I don't think that would've helped much."

Hermione leaned against his side and sniffed. "He'll be back."

"Yeah, probably around lunch time." To cheer her up, Harry carefully took the potions book from her hands and replaced it with Dobby's book about house elf lore. "Here, let's read that one together."

"Won't that be boring for you?" she asked, glancing at him.

"Nah. House elves are fantastic, and I'm sure I missed something the first time." Harry smiled, pecked her on the temple and opened the cover. "It'll be fun."

For the next hour, they were engrossed in the book, quietly talking about the things Hermione discovered. Having a live house elf on hand to answer questions certainly helped Hermione a lot to come to terms with the bond house elves had with wizards.

"I'll never get over how unequal that bond can be," she said a little sadly. "But I understand why they need it."

"We be strong, and many wizards be kind," Dobby assured her. He snapped his fingers and two bottles of water and a bowl of cut up fruit appeared. "It be time for Harry Potter sir's snack."

With the snack came a potion, which of course aroused Hermione's suspicion.

"I'll try not to pry, but ... are you okay?" Hermione asked. "I mean, you look okay. Even your scar is a lot fainter than it was last year. But drinking a potion usually means that something's not okay, so ..."

"Hold on." Harry used a privacy spell, in case their sleeping compartment mate wasn't as asleep as he let on. "It's a nutrient potion," he admitted and drank it down, leaving a bit for Hermione to try. She did and made a sound of delighted surprise. "It's from Gringotts. They taste tons better than Snape's vile stuff."

"Oh." Hermione's eyes raked over Harry in obvious appreciation, making him blush a little. "Well, good for you! I'm glad you thought of it."

"Yeah, me too," he said softly. Taking her hand, he whispered, "Can you keep it quiet, please? Nobody cared about that before and I don't want the headmaster sticking his nose in it. It's bad enough that he'll send me back to the Dursleys next summer."

"He can go hang," Hermione grumbled, and wasn't that a stunning comment from someone who relied and believed in authority to an almost unhealthy degree. "By the way, the police told my parents that the Dursleys have to go to councelling to get over their unreasonable hate of you. Apparently your uncle is quite, uhm, unhinged. How the Ministry of Magic didn't get wind of it, I'll never know. Wizarding Child Protection Services would've taken other children into protective custody by now."

Harry just shrugged. "Dumbledore thinks he knows best. I got by okay this summer, so I don't have a reason to alert him. As long as they leave me be, I'll be fine."

"Maybe you're right," Hermione muttered, although she was still visibly unhappy. "But you'll tell me if that changes. My parents and I can help without Dumbledore knowing about it."

"I will." Harry offered her the bowl. "Here, have some. Lunch is still an hour away."

"Thanks. What was that spell you just used?"

Harry pulled his book The Art Of Secrecy from his bag and showed her the page he'd marked. "It's called Muffliato and makes it very hard for listeners to understand what we're saying. There are a lot more spells and charms in there, but Muffliato is the one I got right after a few tries."

"Impressive." Hermione read over the instructions. "Can you teach me?"

"Sure," Harry replied. "Now?"

She grinned and drew her wand from her bag. "No time like the present."

Outside, fat raindrops began to fall. Not five minutes later, the rain came down so heavily that it was impossible to see the passing scenery though the window. Lupin slept through their impromptu training, his lap serving as Crookshank's pillow, and didn't even stir when Ron returned and threw himself into the furthest seat from the man.

"I'm hungry," the redheaded boy declared. After spying their books and wands, he spluttered, "Have you really worked on spells? You're both mental."

"Welcome back," Hermione said dryly, accepting Harry's elbow in her side as her due.

"The trolley lady hasn't been by, yet," Harry informed Ron. "Maybe we should wake Lupin so he can get something, as well."

"Why would you do that? He's an adult, he can wake himself." Ron scrunched up his nose. "By the way, why didn't you write to me after I returned from Egypt, Harry? My mum wanted to take you shopping and everything."

"I didn't know when you'd be back. You didn't say in your letter on my birthday," Harry replied. "You also didn't answer to my reply. At least, I didn't get a letter."

Ron opened his mouth, thought it over, and then slumped a little. "Oh. Crikey, you're right. I wrote a letter on the day we got back, but then Scabbers got really sick and I forgot about it. Mum and Dad forgot about it too."

"What happened?" Hermione asked. "Is Scabbers alright?"

"No. He, er, died a couple of days ago." Ron shifted uncomfortably. "He just went to sleep, no big deal. Everyone was saying how old he was for a normal garden rat, anyway."

"Still, losing a pet is hard," Hermione said compassionately. "I wanted Crooks, but I'm not looking forward to ... you know. Even if it's many years in the future, hopefully."

"Me neither," Harry offered. "Hedwig is my girl. I'd be devastated if something happened to her."

Ron's eyes were suspiciously bright, but he put on a brave front. "Yeah, well, it is what it is. My dad promised me a new pet if I do well this year. It's something to look forward to, I guess."

"It is," Hermione said firmly. "What pet would you like? I mean, you will be able to choose, won't you?"

This prompted a rather animated discussion about the merits of various animals, especially since Ron wouldn't be constrained by the first year restrictions.

"Obviously I don't want a toad," Ron said. "They're slimy and really useless. Cats are fine, I suppose, if one just wants to pet them every now and then, but they can't deliver letters and won't play with you whenever you like."

"That sounds like you'd do well with a dog," Hermione said. "They seem to be uncommon, though. Why is that?"

"There are not many magical dog breeds," Ron said, staring at Crookshanks who was lazily staring back. "Most live in Asia, and they're stupidly expensive."

"Why?" Harry asked. "Do they have some kind of special ability?"

"They can be super special," Ron replied, gesticulating animatedly. "Some breeds are really fast and can fetch mail, and some are good in ritual magic, or for channeling innate magical gifts. My brother Charlie knows a lot about them, they have a few at the dragon reservation in Romania."

"I didn't know that." Hermione fished her snarling Monster Book Of Monsters out of her back and petted it absently. "I read a little ahead, but I guess those dogs are class XXX or up magical creatures, so we won't study them until our seventh year."

"All of them are class XXXX, except the grim," Ron said, obviously proud of knowing something the others didn't. "That one's a class XXXXX, and the only magical dog breed native to Britain."

"It's a pity that we won't study one in class, though. I think they're fascinating," Hermione mused. She found the page in her book and showed them the picture of a huge, black dog with fearfully long teeth and impressive claws on his feet.

Ron shuddered. "Yeah, that's the one. No one in their right mind wants to meet one - they're harbingers of death. Like, you see one and you keel over soon after."

"Yes, but why?" she insisted. "What attracts them? Are they just smelling that someone will die? Do they want to let someone know they'll die so that they can get their affairs in order? What about the shock value? What if the whole thing is a self-fulfilling prophecy and people die because they get spooked?"

"What? Ron asked, gaping at her flood of questions. "How should I know? No one's ever returned from studying them."

A knock interrupted them.

"Sweets, dears?" the trolley lady asked with a kind smile. "Might cheer you up on this dreary day."

Hermione chose a piece of cauldron cake and two chocolate frogs. "My parents will kill me if I eat more," she said sheepishly. "Even with the teeth cleaning charm I looked up over the summer."

Harry picked out more chocolate and a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and invited Ron to pick a couple of things as well.

While his friend was busy, Harry nudged Lupin. "Sir? Excuse me, sir, but the food trolley is here."

"Mmh, what?" Bleary-eyed, Lupin shifted. "The trolley?"

"Yeah, we thought you might want something."

Rallying, the man sat up, careful not to dislodge Crookshanks from his lap. "Thank you. Hm, two sandwiches, please. One with ham, the other with chicken."

"Coming right up, dearie," the trolley lady chirped and a moment later two plates filled to overflowing with huge sandwiches and crisps floated towards Lupin. "That'll be seven sickles, please."

Lupin counted out the silver and immediately went to town on his lunch. He made Ron look like an amateur and even had time to feed Crookshanks a piece of chicken while he was at it. He also kept his mouth closed while he chewed, setting a good example and endearing him to Hermione, who had bemoaned Ron's atrocious table manners since they'd started at Hogwarts.

Dobby, being the wonderful friend he was, had packed a hot lunch for both Harry and Hermione, consisting of roast chicken and a rich side salad with lots of avocado, walnuts, pear and rapsberry dressing.

"Where did you get that?" Ron asked enviously. "My mum's only packed sandwiches for us."

The sandwiches did look rather pitiful, Harry had to admit. As wonderful as Mrs. Weasley's cooking was, her talent apparently didn't include making food for the train ride. Thankfully, Dobby had cooked a lot and so Harry was able to let Ron have a full meal, as well.

"Thanks, mate," Ron said and inhaled the fragrance of the chicken. "I dunno what that green stuff is, but the meat sure looks good."

Next to them, clearly trying not to disturb them, Lupin finished off his food and pulled a flask from his coat. The scent of coffee permeated the air and he sighed happily.

"Still tired, sir?" Harry asked, watching the man gulp down two cups of the brew in quick succession.

"I had a long night," Lupin replied. "Third year at Hogwarts?" He pointed at The Monster Book Of Monsters sticking out of Hermione's bag.

"Yes. I'm looking forward to it," Hermione beamed and chewed on her avocado. "We finally got to choose our electives."

"At least you did," Harry grumbled. "I'll have to corner Professor McGonagall and appeal Dumbledore's stupid decision."

"I thought you sent a letter?" Hermione asked suspiciously. "Harry, what happened?"

"I never got a reply," Harry said, trying hard not to let his anger show. "I asked Dobby to watch out for it, but apparently my letter is still lying unopened in her inbox."

Lupin cleared his throat. "I'm, ah, the new professor for Defence Against The Dark Arts, Remus Lupin's the name, and obviously I couldn't help but overhear. Harry - may I call you Harry? - did I understand correctly that you have a problem with your choice of electives?"

"I didn't have a problem with my choices," Harry said. "The headmaster did. He's apparently my magical guardian and decided that I'm not to take Arithmancy and Ancient Runes this year."

"What?" Lupin looked aghast. "What is his reason?"

"He didn't give one." Harry decided to go all in. "Professor McGonagall didn't mention in her reply that I could appeal this decision, even though it's the law to make that known to me."

"Yes, it is. Do you still have that letter?"

"Yes, I saved it for the board of govenors." Harry frowned. "Maybe I should contact them directly, seeing how Professor McGonagall doesn't do anything to help me."

"That's very unusual," Lupin said softly. "If you want, I'll support your appeal, and ask Professors Vector and Babbling to do so as well. I'm sure they'd be glad to have you in their class."

"Thanks, professor," Harry said, feeling better already.

"This will be resolved quickly," Lupin assured him. "Give it two weeks, a month at most if people prove to be stubborn."

"And in the meantime?" Hermione asked. "Does Harry have to go to Divination?"

"He shouldn't," Lupin replied, a thoughtful look on his face. His amber eyes glinted a little, even in the dull afternoon light. "It could be taken as an admission that he's not as opposed to the class as he's made it known."

"Independent study, then." Hermione pulled a notepad from her bag and started writing. "I'll do it with him, we can work with the beginner material of Runes or Arithmancy."

"That's very generous of you, Miss ..."

"Granger. Hermione Granger." Decisively, Hermione stuck out her hand for Lupin to shake. "Nice to meet you. My friends are Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley."

"Hello," Lupin replied with a smile, not showing the least bit of surprise at learning either Harry or Ron's last name. "The professors will support you, of course, and hand out little assignments to keep you busy and cement your case."

Ron huffed. "I still don't get why you won't just take Divination, Harry. It's such an easy OWL! Don't you want a break from You-Know-Who being after you?"

Lupin shook his head before Harry could answer. "A break is all well and good in the short term, Ronald-"

"No, Ron, please! My mum calls me Ron when I'm in trouble!"

That made Lupin laugh a little. "Ron, then. In the short term, breaks might be advisable, but hopefully there's a whole life for Harry to live once school is over. For that, he needs to be prepared."

"But Runes are hard," Ron moaned. "And Arithmancy is a horror! My brother Bill studied both like crazy - he's a ward breaker at Gringotts - and talked of nothing else! Barmy, he was."

"And now?" Hermione needled. "You went to visit him; how is he doing now? Is he resting on his laurels, or is he still educating himself?"

Ron looked as if he'd bitten into a particularly sour lemon. "He's still at it, but at least he took time off to show us the sights and stuff. I don't get why he needs to work so much, or be the best ward breaker on his team. It's not like he even shares his money with us!"

"Ron ..." Hermione glanced at Harry. "If he's worked for it, it's his money. That's the whole point! People work so they can have enough money for a comfortable life. Bill being team leader at his age ... and I assume he's in his early twenties ... is fantastic. It speaks of an incredible work ethic, and of course talent and dedication to his chosen profession. The goblins must be very happy to have him work for them."

"You sound like a friggin' grown up," Ron groused.

"I'm just very interested in making the most out of my opportunities," Hermione said evenly. "You should do the same. Hogwarts isn't cheap, you know. Getting all of you through seven years of education must be really hard on your parents. They're sacrificing a lot for you."

"Whatever," Ron mumbled, cheeks flushing a dull red. "I still think doing both Runes and Arithmancy is mental."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe, but I want to give it a try."

"You won't regret it," Lupin said encouragingly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I still have a bit of sleep to catch up on ..."

Awed, the three teens looked on as Lupin buried himself back under his cloak, Crookshanks resuming his position on his lap, and fell asleep in three seconds flat.

"Incredible," Harry said. "I wish I could do that."

"Or maybe not," Hermione added, delicately pointing out the dark circles under Lupin's eyes and the pallor of his skin. "The price would be too high."

"What is she talking about?" Ron asked, bewildered.

Thankfully, Malfoy and his cronies chose that moment to make their appearance.

"Well, well, well, the scarhead, the know-it-all, and the weasel," the blond boy said with a haughty sneer. "Still sticking to each other in an attempt to rise from mediocrity, I see."

"What does that even mean?" Hermione demanded. "If I remember correctly, I beat out everyone from your house. In fact, you weren't even among the top ten of our year group, Malfoy. I wonder what your father had to say about that."

Malfoy's eyes gleamed wickedly. "He wasn't thrilled, of course, but really, competing against a Dagworth-Granger? He didn't hold it against me."

"Is that so?" Hermione narrowed her eyes. "That still doesn't explain your underperformance. You should've come second, then, not twelfth."

Apparently running out of arguments, Malfoy took notice of Lupin's sleeping form. "Whatever, Granger. Who is that? The new caretaker for Hogwarts? It's about time, Filch was a disgrace."

"He's our new DADA professor," Ron said angrily.

"Shove off, Malfoy. Or would you like us to wake him up?" Harry asked threateningly.

"Hiding behind a professor, are you, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "Come, Crabbe, Goyle, this is getting boring. Let's see how many chocolate frogs Parkinson has left."

They marched off, leaving the compartment door open as a last insult.

"He's such a smug little bastard," Hermione hissed as she closed the door with a little swish of her wand.

"What did he mean, you being a Dagworth-Granger?" Ron stared at her.

"It means that my ancestor was Hector Dagworth-Granger," Hermione replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "So what if he was clever? Many people are. It's no excuse for laziness and entitlement."

"He was rich, though, wasn't he?"

"Ron-"

"I can't believe you didn't tell me," Ron huffed. "Honestly, Hermione, I'm gone for like three weeks and it's like I don't even exist anymore!"

"You didn't even tell me you were going to Egypt!" Hermione cried, exasperated.

Ron glowered. "It's not the same thing."

Harry could feel the next huge argument coming and sighed to himself. He liked Ron, most of the time, but this was too much.

"She only learned of it on Saturday," he said quietly. "Leave her alone, Ron."

"Why should I?" Ron gesticulated wildly. "She's probably adopted the family name, too, just because it will make her more famous! She'll be rubbing elbows with Malfoy next, just you wait!"

Hermione's mouth dropped open in indignant shock. "The whole thing is very new for me, and maybe I wanted to come to terms with it by myself first. And no, I haven't even considered taking up Hector's name - I didn't even know I could!"

"Well, now you know!"

Hermione began stuffing her things into her bag. "I've had enough of the stupid things that come out of your mouth, Ronald. I'm going to find Neville and Ginny. At least they won't hold things I don't have any control over against me. Sorry, Harry. I'll see you later."

Furious with Ron, Harry watched her go. "You're the worst, Ron."

"Why me?" the redhead cried. "She's got secrets! You don't do that among friends!"

"Everybody's got secrets," Harry said angrily. "So what if her inheritance is a matter of public record? It's still her decision whom to tell what, and when. Besides, she literally has known since Saturday, and today is Wednesday, you great git! Doesn't she deserve even a couple of days to make sense of it all? I needed a month to really understand what it all means, and I still don't really get it!"

Ron, of course, went right for the jugular. "So you've known from the beginning, haven't you?"

"It was hard not to, we went to Diagon Alley together to buy our stuff. It just came up at Gringotts." Harry scowled. "It's got nothing to do with you, Ron, so let it go already. I mean it."

"Or what?" Ron challenged.

"Or you can look for a new best friend," Harry snapped, suddenly fed up with the other boy's hostile attitude. "If you can't be happy for her, what use is it to hang out together? It'll only make both of you mad."

"And of course you'll take her side, again," Ron sneered.

"She didn't do anything to you!" Harry breathed hard to calm his rapidly rising temper. "Get that into your thick head! You are the one badgering and insulting her, not the other way around!" Confronted with Ron's mulish scowl, Harry reached the end of his rope. "You know what? I'll go sit with Hermione. I'm so done with your jealousy or whatever."

He quickly stuffed his things into his bag and stepped out of the compartment. Standing behind the closed door, it felt like he could finally breathe again.

"Dobby?" he whispered, only jumping a little when the elf appeared silently before him. "Do you know where Hermione went?"

"Dobby be showing Harry Potter sir," Dobby squeaked and skipped ahead until they reached the compartment. Hermione had put half the train between her and Ron, not that Harry could blame her. "She be here. Miss Mione be very angry with the Wheezy boy."

"Yeah, I know." Harry smiled crookedly. "I'll try to make it better. Thank you."

"Dobby be going and looking after Harry Potter sir's things," Dobby declared and vanished with a little pop.

Despite seeing through the open curtain who was sitting in the compartment, Harry still knocked and waited to be called in.

"Hey," he said, waving at Neville, Ginny, Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones. "Can I sit with you for a while?"

"Weasley chased you off, as well?" Susan asked with a little bit of bite in her tone. When Harry nodded, she rolled her eyes. "I don't get him."

Harry squeezed in between Hermione and Ginny and put his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. It galled him to notice the smudged tear tracks on her cheeks. "He's being a git so I left him to it."

"Good choice," Ginny said with a huff. "I'll tell mum so she can send him a howler. He deserves it."

Neville cringed. "The rest of us don't, though."

That made them all chuckle, even Hermione. With a sigh, she snuggled against Harry. "Thanks for looking after me."

"We'll have to go back at one point. I've got tea and cake," he joked. "It's safe from Ron, but, well."

The others laughed again and soon they forgot about Ron's temper tantrum, choosing to play Exploding Snap and solve the crossword riddle in the Daily Prophet.

When four o'clock came and went, Harry led Hermione back to their compartment. Outside, it had gotten very dark, and the rain was pounding against the side of the train.

"It's scary, isn't it?" Hermione said, biting her lip. "I've never seen a storm like this."

Seamus Finnigan, who was taking a break outside his compartment to stretch his legs, agreed. "It's gotten mighty cold, too. Dunno what's up with the weather."

"I'll put my robes on," Hermione said. "That should do it."

At their compartment, Harry looked inside carefully and was relieved to notice that Ron was gone. They entered, locked the door and then Harry played host and pulled delicate china cups full of steaming tea and two plates with strawberry cake and whipped cream from his bag.

"Dobby will have to show me how he's doing that," Hermione grinned. She inhaled the aroma of her tea and hummed happily. "Magic can be so wonderful. Where is he, by the way?"

"He's popped out for a moment," Harry said, thinking of the little elf's toils on Potter's Field. "But he'll be back soon, I think."

Enjoying the cake was easy and the tea warmed them pleasantly from the inside. However, it soon seemed to get colder and colder, no matter how hot the tea was. It was bad enough for ice crystals to begin growing on their window.

"Harry, something's not right," Hermione said, setting her plate aside. Her teeth chattered violently. "It's so silent!"

She was right. Harry tilted his head, trying to catch the murmur of conversation or the sound of wandering feet, but there was nothing. "And it's icy in here all of a sudden," he said in a low voice. Shivering, Hermione came to his side when he stretched out his arm. In the other, he held his wand. "Can you wake Lupin?"

"Yes." Hermione flicked her wand. "Enervate!"

As the spell hit the professor, the window of the compartment door began freezing over. Crunching quietly, the ice spread further and further over the window pane, and the sound of someone breathing deeply, unevenly, raised all of Harry's hair, even the ones on his arms and shins.

Lupin sputtered awake, sending Crookshanks flying as he flailed. "What!"

"Something's wrong, Professor!" Hermione cried. "Look at the door!"

The knob rattled insistently, but the locking charm held.

"Something's trying to get in!" Harry said. "I don't know many protective spells ..."

The whole door shook and the temperature dropped a further few degrees. Something pulled at Harry, pulled insistently at his memories, and dredged the scum to the surface. In front of his eyes, the tall, willowy shadow behind the door formed into Uncle Vernon, and his smug laughter rang in his ears.

"No," he said through gritted teeth. "Stay away ..."

In his embrace, Hermione began to sob. "What is that thing?"

"Get behind me," Lupin ordered. He went to the door, yanked it open to Harry and Hermione's horror, and raised his wand. "Sirius Black is not on this train! Search elsewhere for him!"

The large, dark presence, some kind of demon in a dark, ragged robe, didn't move. It hovered in the air like a cloud of foul air, waiting, waiting ...

"I said, leave!" Lupin said sharply, sounding remarkably in control.

The thing drew a rattling breath and something green flashed up at the edge of Harry's vision. He gasped for breath as Aunt Petunia and Dudley joined Vernon in his maniacal laughter. It got louder and louder and the vision in front of his eyes grew larger and larger.

"You leave me no choice ... Expecto Patronum!" Some kind of large and silver shape burst from Lupin's wand and immediately attacked the looming thing, going straight for the neck. Unnoticed by the man, Dobby suddenly popped in and gave the dementor a mighty push with his magic.

Shrieking, the foul creature jerked back, turned, and fled to the back of the train, where it threw itself from the open rear door.

Stunned and as cold as they were, Harry and Hermione still crowded around Lupin and looked to the other compartments. More silver lights erupted, and ghastly screams made their ears hurt. Dobby made himself invisible, but knowing that he was near was a great comfort to Harry.

"Thanks," he whispered, certain that Dobby would hear him.

"What are those things?" Hermione cried over the noise. "Demons?"

"Close enough," Lupin replied grimly. "That was a dementor. Foul beings that are neither alive, nor dead. They're very, very dangerous."

"I read about them." Hermione took a shaky breath. "They guard Azkaban, and they eat souls."

"Yes, they do." Lupin relaxed a little and turned to the teens. "I'm sorry that one got so close to you. Here, take some chocolate. It works wonders against dementor exposure."

Gratefully, Harry and Hermione each accepted a thick piece of milk chocolate and nibbled on it.

"What about you, Professor?" Harry asked. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I'll help the aurors on the train chase the last of these monsters away. You stay here, alright?"

Neither Harry nor Hermione had any desire to get between the adults and the demon guardians of Azkaban. Reapplying his locking charm, and having Hermione layer a different charm on top of that, helped a little to calm Harry down.

The best thing, though, was Hermione's return to his side. Still wet-eyed and shivery, she buried back into his embrace as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. Her trust in him was even better than the chocolate; it almost made him feel like he could fly without a broom.

Finally, when they were settled, Crookshanks climbed onto both their laps and pressed his head against his mistress' stomach.

"What did you see?" Hermione whispered.

Her nose was clogged so Harry offered his handkerchief before he answered, "My uncle. All of my relatives, really. They've always belittled me. They were laughing really loudly at me, like I've royally messed up." He sighed. "I guess I've got really bad issues, if a demon could pull that stuff up and essentially freeze me."

"I saw my Aunt Karen threatening me ... she was about to hit me when Professor Lupin chased the dementor away," Hermione confessed. She blew her nose. "All throughout my childhood, she was jealous that her daughter wasn't as smart as me. She was always picking on me and trying to tear me down. She did hit me, once or twice."

"You probably got that a lot from other kids, too." Harry pressed his cheek against her hair. "I'm sorry."

"She's the wife of my dad's brother, the one we're not talking to anymore," Hermione explained. "She didn't just try to ruin my childhood - she did it to her own daughter, too. She was busier with trying to make us miserable than making sure that Sharon could have fun with her mom. Now my cousin resents me, too, and we haven't seen each other in almost three years."

"That sucks," Harry said with feeling. "At least, my cousin only ever chased me and threatened to beat me up. One could never accuse him of leading me on or stuff like that. The only advantage of not having a lot of complicated family, really."

Hermione laughed quietly, although she caught herself almost immediately. "Gosh, I'm so sorry. That must be terrible. I can't even imagine ..." Her arms tightened around Harry's ribs. "I hope you know that you don't deserve any of that. They're just horrible people."

"I'm working on it," Harry murmured. "Thanks, 'Mione."

Their quiet haven unfortunately was soon invaded by Ron, Seamus, and Dean, who were all deathly pale and looked uncomfortable at their hug. At least they were clever enough to keep their mouths shut about it.

"You look like one of those things came close," Dean said quietly and stuffed the last of his chocolate into his mouth. "Dementors, really. My mum'll go spare when she hears about this."

"I hope everyone goes spare about this," Hermione replied. "Dementors searching the Hogwarts express? Really? All of their children could've died today!"

Even Ron admitted that she had the right of it. "Not much's gonna happen as long as Black is on the run, though," he said. "They want him badly; my dad told me so."

"But, dementors?" Seamus asked in dismay. "Are those things gonna come to Hogwarts, too?"

"They better not." Hermione looked up as a knock rattled the compartment door. "Yes?"

Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil entered and squeezed themselves in between the boys and next to Hermione, respectively.

"This will make the paper," Lavender announced. "I wonder if they'll take pictures of us."

This set off a heated debate, which Harry wished he could tune out. However, the others speculated that the Prophet would probably want Harry and a few other known students to pose for them, to make the most of the news.

"I don't like people taking my picture-" Harry began, only to be interrupted by Seamus snickering and muttering, "Colin Creevey" under his breath. "Okay, yes, because of Colin, but this could be a good thing." Harry shrugged. "I wonder who even ordered those monsters to search the train. Why not have the aurors do it? They were here anyway."

"Well, the DMLE usually issues search warrants for fugitives," Dean said. "That's the Department for Magical Law Enforcement. But this one must've come from the Minister himself. There was an article in the Prophet about how he authorized the dementors to hunt for Black."

Harry remembered that one quite clearly - the goblins had been in an uproar at the unwarranted threat to one of their oldest family clients, unknowingly teaching Harry a few rather impressive insults in both English and their own language. Not to mention that the fallout of that ill-considered action would amuse all of Gringotts and Sirius for months, if not years ... not that anyone would notice until it was too late.

Setting these things on the Hogwarts Express, however, came as a nasty surprise to all of them, obviously including the aurors who could now be heard shouting expletives at each other.

"Fudge obviously is an idiot," Pavarti sniffed when the screaming had died down a little. "My father will have the Indian ambassador write a letter."

Harry hoped that it was a very scathing letter, and that the ambassador would make Minister Fudge's life a misery for a good while after that.

"And the pureblood wizards wonder why we muggleborns find the society ... lacking," Hermione muttered. When Ron, Pavarti and Lavender stared at her accusingly, she raised her chin defiantly. "What? It's true! It's like setting a horde of psychopathic madmen loose to catch another wanted psychopathic madman. It doesn't make any sense! Who's even controlling them? Who checks that they don't harm innocent bystanders? I don't see anyone; the aurors on the train obviously are protection detail for the students from Black and didn't know those things would harass us."

"I'm with her on that one," Harry said into the uncomfortable silence.

It was Lavender who caught herself first. She flipped her long hair over her shoulder and said, "Those might be good points, but you can't deny that Black is dangerous and should be caught, Hermione. The Ministry for Magic might go about it all wrong, but at least they're doing something."

Hermione scoffed. "Doing something is not good enough. Just look how that worked out for poor Hagrid last year. And actually, I can deny that Black should be caught. I got all the editions of the Prophet since Black's break-out and read up on his case. Did you notice that there was no mention of a trial anywhere? Sure, they said he was a convicted felon, and dangerous, but usually there has to be a case number for people who want to look up the court proceedings."

"And you tried to look it up?" Ron asked, clearly disbelieving. "Whatever for?"

"Because it's suspicious!" Hermione answered. "If he's such a dangerous criminal, why can't I read up on what he's actually been convicted for? And no, mere hearsay and claims of his guilt are not enough to convince me! That's not how it works in the muggle world."

Her words discomfited the others, and even Harry was surprised at the hollow pang in his chest at her conclusion. Obviously he already knew that his godfather was innocent, but he'd never even thought of actually checking things out for himself. It was something to correct, and he resolved to work on that personal flaw right away.

"That's very clever, actually," he said quietly into the stunned silence. "How do you know to do that?"

"I read a lot," Hermione reminded him and arched an eyebrow. "I even owled the Ministry about it on Sunday. There hasn't been an answer yet, but do any of you want to bet that they'll tell me not to worry my pretty little head and not answer the question at all?"

Dean was the first to catch himself. "Er, no, better not, Hermione." He exchanged a glance with Seamus. "But your argument is interesting. Maybe I'll ask about the transcripts as well. Just to punish the Ministry for their stupidity today."

"I will, as well," Lavender decided, with Pavarti promptly agreeing to do the same.

"Should we take this to the others? They might want to vent their spleen, too," Dean asked.

Hermione scowled. "We so should."

As there was little else to do until the train reached the platform on Hogsmeade, they got out paper and pens and began composing their letters to the Ministry. Each of them was slightly different, and to make the impact even larger, they decided against sending them all at once.

"They'd probably set up a form letter if we did that," Lavender explained. "My mum works at the Prophet, that's what they do when readers flood them with angry letters. Ours should be individual enough to make them answer each on its own. Just a small question here, or an accusation there."

"Can you coordinate that?" Hermione asked. "Of all of us, you know the most people in all Hogwarts houses."

"Sure." Lavender smiled smugly. "I know you don't like me talking so much, but I bet you're glad now."

Hermione agreed with good grace. "I sure am. Thanks, Lavender."

"I'm not convinced that Black is actually innocent, mind, but it might be suspicious enough for my mum to start digging. With any luck, she'll get the story out before Rita Skeeter does," Lavender said. "It's about time that she found something worthwhile to write about, anyway."

"Oh, that horrible Skeeter woman," Pavarti huffed. "A couple of years ago, she wrote a terrible article about my father's flying carpet business in India. Of course he's lobbying to get the ban in Britain lifted, but that's because the carpets are safe! Skeeter made it sound as if they were death traps, and my family out to kill the good citizens of Wizarding Britains so the Indian people can move in and take over."

"Not to mention her atrocious style of writing," Hermione added. "It's like she's trying to be as sensationalist as possible. Half of what she writes are obvious lies!"

"Me mum loves her," Seamus said with a shudder. "Quotes her like she's some kind of wise woman."

"My mum likes her as well, and she's a pretty good judge of character," Ron scoffed. "Also, you can't prove that she's lying."

"I bet you your chocolate frog," Hermione challenged, and of course Ron accepted. "Pick any article you want, I bet I can find a lie in it."

"Yeah, you're on!" Ron said.

To Harry, this was a stupid thing to do, especially since Ron picked up the follow-up article on Hermione's inheritance, one Harry hadn't even known existed because Sirius had declared an unofficial feud with the paper for printing outrageous garbage and had instead subscribed to the Wizarding International Times, WIT for short.

Gleefully, Ron read, "Unlikely Heiress Discovered! To everyone's surprise, Gringotts yesterday announced the emergence of a heiress to the nearly dormant Dagworth-Granger family. The last member, one Hector Dagworth-Granger, was one of the most famous potioneers of his time and lauded for his groundbreaking work (for more information on Hector Dagworth-Granger, see page 7). The young heiress, one Hermione Granger, is currently a student at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry and will begin her third year come September. Any lies so far?"

"Not yet," Hermione replied, unconcerned.

Ron continued, "Miss Granger is said by many to be one of the brightest students to grace Hogwarts' hallowed halls of learning in recent history, although it is highly doubtful that she'll be able to match her ancestor's brilliance. Despite her unknown origins, sources revealed that Miss Granger is set to entertain betrothal contracts as soon as she reaches the appropriate age to give her newly discovered family the magical heirs it so very much needs and deserves, and to return the family to its former respectability. There are also speculations that the ambitious muggleborn Miss Granger is aiming to improve the standing of her family to at least nobility. Whether this will happen on merit or by marriage can not be predicted by this humble reporter."

"And here is the lie, or rather, lies," Hermione said, mouth twisting in disgust. "Exactly no one will have told her that I'll entertain betrothal contracts as soon as I turn fifteen, because my parents and I didn't talk about that shite at all. She made that source up out of whole cloth."

"You can't prove that," Ron countered. "Your parents might have talked about it without you where Skeeter could hear, or the goblins at Gringotts could have told her. Skeeter does interviews with them sometimes."

Pavarti glared at him, while the others gasped quietly. "You better take that back, Weasley. Accusing the goblins of tattling on their clients' private affairs is a surefire way of getting banned from Gringotts for life."

"Not to mention get yourself arrested and tried in their court for slander, if you hurt their business prospects badly enough," Dean agreed, shifting uncomfortably.

"Also," Hermione said, voice vibrating with fury, "my parents won't ever expect me to marry so young, especially not when the suitor is clearly only interested in money or fame or whatever they're after. And raising my unknown magical family to nobility? It's so ridiculous. My mum's grandmum was a suffragette, for Pete's sake. My parents signed a contract with Gringotts, the goblins will reject any and all offers as soon as they arrive." She glared at Ron, stretching out her hand. "The frog, please."

"It's your word against Skeeter's," Ron retorted stubbornly.

"Well, then why don't you send a betrothal contract to Gringotts?" Hermione dared him, withdrawing her hand. "Of course, if I were you I wouldn't do that. My new account manager assured me that the replies will be as vitriolic as he can make them without sending a howler. You see, goblins apparently find considerable joy in telling entitled wizards where to stick their delusions."

"Give her the frog, mate," Seamus said, awed. When Ron didn't budge, he shrugged and pulled one of his own from his pocket and handed it over. "Well deserved, Hermione. Cheers."

"Thank you, Seamus." Hermione smiled, finally relaxing a little. "I really could've done without all that nonsense, but Gringotts said that it was kind of a big deal when a seemingly lost family line is being reactivated, and that useless gold diggers crawling out of the woodwork is only to be expected."

"It is a big deal," Pavarti confirmed. "All the old families are interrelated. New blood is important, especially to the purists."

"Those families will probably leave me alone. There are three generations of squibs to contend with, after all," Hermione said with a shrug. Carefully, she began to unwrap her squirming chocolate frog. "I'm looking forward to learn more about the family, though. Hector left a lot of journals, and a grimoire. I already learned that he was the founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, and that he wrote an interesting essay about love potions, and how they're not really creating love, merely a very strong compulsion. That doesn't make those potions any less vile, of course, but it helps to understand them better."

"Why don't you discuss that with Snape," Ron huffed. "Should be right up the slimy git's alley."

"Maybe I will," Hermione countered in her best don't-mess-with-me-voice and bit the frog's head off.

Happy to head the coming squabble off, Lavender pointed out that the train was slowing down. "We're finally there!"

"I still have to change," Pavarti said, already getting up. "We'll see you at the carriages!"

She and Lavender left, Seamus and Dean following behind them. Hermione sent Ron and Harry out for a few minutes to get changed into her school uniform and then waited for them to do the same.

"I like Crookshanks, but he's one hairy mister," Harry said as she stepped back into the compartment. "Look at my trouser legs."

"Oh, dear, I'm sorry. Here ..." She flicked her wand and muttered a cleaning charm at Harry's trousers. "All better."

"I didn't know you knew such charms," Harry said, admiring her work.

Hermione blushed. "I saw that one book in your pile at Flourish and Blotts and owl-ordered it when I got home. What?" she squeaked when Ron snorted. "They're useful!"

Head shaking, Ron dragged his trunk out of the compartment first. Hermione followed, with Harry bringing up the rear. Many of the other children were still rather pale, and the aurors in their scarlet uniforms grimly watched over the crowd. Their wands were lit to provide more light, though it obviously wasn't enough to ease everyone's discomposure.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron managed to get into a coach with Neville and Ginny. Crookshanks took up the sixth seat, glaring at them all through the barred door of his carrier.

"How'd you hold up?" Harry asked Neville. "You got any chocolate after the dementors' visit?"

Neville shrugged. "I had a couple of chocolate frogs from the lunch trolley."

"The aurors were rather stingy with their rations," Ginny complained. "One of those beasts tore our door open. Luna Lovegood fainted. We're still shivering, right, Neville?"

"I'll probably have nightmares for a while," the boy admitted, a little shame-faced.

Hermione rummaged in her bag and pulled out the two chocolate frogs she'd bought earlier. "Here, if you need more. I'm so sorry. We at least had the new DADA professor to help us."

"Was he any good?" Ginny asked, tearing into the package of her frog. "What's his name?"

"Remus Lupin," Harry supplied. "He was pretty awesome with that spell of his ... Expecto Patronum, wasn't it? He didn't look afraid at all."

"He could be a really good teacher," Hermione agreed. "Finally!"

Her enthusiasm teased a small smile from Neville and when they reached the castle, the high-strung alertness had already receded a little, making room for the more normal pre-sorting jitters.

"Bloody good first impression of going to school for the first years, wasn't it?" Ron mumbled as they entered though the portal and got in line to settle at their house table. "I suppose being nervous about the Sorting is the least of their problems right now."

"Small mercies." Hermione spied Fred and George further down the table and narrowed her eyes. "As long as no one told them they'd have to wrestle a troll to be sorted."

"Mum ripped them a new one for that," Ron said with satisfaction. His smile was blissful. "I remember every word of that howler."

"If only you could remember what the professors tell you in class," Hermione muttered, just quietly enough for Neville and Harry to hear. She sat and put her bag between her feet. "I wonder how anyone can be expected to eat after that nasty surprise on the train."

"I'll at least try," Neville said. "Gran's always going on about how expensive the tuition has gotten during the last decade. Wasting food would really set her off."

Harry privately thought that high tuition wasn't a good enough reason to risk an upset stomach later, not with classes starting the next day, but he didn't say anything. Ron, at least, didn't seem to have any problem at all grumbling about the wait until the food would be served.

At long last, Professor McGonagall led the terrified first years into the hall and the Sorting Hat sang its yearly song. It seemed to take an age to send the children to their respective houses, and the applause for each was rather subdued. After, the school choir - Harry hadn't even known Hogwarts had a choir - performed a rather ominous sounding song.

"Something wicked this way comes? Seriously?" Seamus asked sarcastically.

Then, the headmaster spoke.

"It is my great pleasure to introduce to you the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Remus J. Lupin," Dumbledore said. He waited for the polite applause to die down, before announcing the retirement of Professor Kettleburn, the teacher for Care for Magical Creatures. "He will be replaced by our very own Rubeus Hagrid!"

Naturally, Gryffindor cheered the loudest for the giant groundskeeper. Blushing with pleasure, Hagrid nearly upset the teacher's table as he tried to bow.

The usual warnings about the Forbidden Forest being strictly forbidden followed, and which toys and joke shop products were banned at Hogwart.

"And last but certainly not least it is my duty to inform you that, for the foreseeable future, Hogwarts will play host to the dementors of Azkaban," Dumbledore said. Silence fell like an oppressive veil. "They will be stationed at every entrance to the grounds, looking for Sirius Black. Let me warn you now that they do not differentiate between the one they hunt, and the ones who don't know to stay away from them. If you value your life and your magical soul, you'll remain at a safe distance at all times. Failure to do so, or worse, endangering other students, will be punished most severely."

Harry shared a meaningful look with all of his friends.

"Just great," Hermione groused under her breath. "The Ministry, in its infinite wisdom, has just done the single most stupid thing they could've come up with." She glared at the head table, debated with herself for a second, and then raised her hand.

Again, the whole hall fell silent.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall asked warily.

"Is the school warded against the dementors?" Hermione asked, staring straight at her head of house.

"Er, no," Professor McGonagall replied.

"Why not, if they're so dangerous?" Hermione demanded. "What's keeping them from getting onto the grounds and sucking out souls willy-nilly?"

"Good question!" Fred and George hollered as one and at all four tables mutters could be heard.

Dumbledore looked at Hermione and very slightly inclined his head. "Sadly, it cannot be ruled out that Sirius Black hasn't already found his way onto the grounds. Therefore, the Ministry has declined to add a dementor ward to Hogwarts at this time."

"And he can't be found with magic?" Hermione asked dubiously, very obviously saying out loud what everybody else was thinking, even Malfoy and his entourage.

A half-smile formed on the headmaster's face. "Apparently not, Miss Granger. Please feel free - all of you - to take your concerns to the appropriate offices. I'm sure the minister is eager to hear from tomorrow's voters."

It was as petty a dig as Harry had ever heard Dumbledore dish out, and it helped settle his misgivings about the man's behaviour all summer a little.

Finally, the feast was over and it was time to retire to their dormitories. The sixth year prefects helped everyone get through the portrait of the Fat Lady and pointed out the list of passwords hanging on the notice board, though not with the dire warning not to share them around.

"I'm knackered," Ron yawned. "I'll see you in the dorm."

Harry, who was not inclined to let Ron off the hook so easily for his arguement with Hermione earlier, merely nodded and turned his attention to his girlfriend, who was just scooping Crookshanks into her arms.

"You're a big boy, I know," she cooed and kissed his furry head. "Just give it a few days in the castle before you venture out, alright? With those horrible demon things around, I don't want you to get lost."

Crookshanks butted his head against her cheek and purred.

"Can we talk for a moment?" Harry asked, giving the cat a pat before it ambled off. "It's about your special training."

"Oh, yes, of course." Hermione pulled Harry into a quiet corner and quite proudly used the Muffliatus spell to ensure their privacy. "Since we don't have our timetables yet, and with you having to appeal to the board of govenors, I'd do our training in the mornings. Classes only start at nine, that's plenty of time to get up at seven, work for half an hour, and then go to breakfast. Would that be alright? Did you want to start tomorrow?"

Harry sighed. "Maybe not tomorrow, but how about the weekend? The mornings are fine. Much better than after class, and people won't notice as quickly."

She smiled. "Then we just have to find a room where we're not disturbed. That shouldn't be too hard. Do you have exercise clothes? If not, now's the time to send your little friend to get some."

"I've got enough stuff," Harry assured her. "Thanks for doing this, I really appreciate it."

Instead of giving an answer, Hermione pecked him on the cheek, wished him a good night, and went up the stairs to her dormitory.

Harry stood there a little stupidly before catching himself and climbing the stairs to his own dorm room. Everyone else was already settled in, clothes, books and parchments strewn over beds and spilling out of trunks. Only his trunk stood closed and undisturbed at the foot of his bed, waiting for him to unpack.

"Oy, Harry, why did you lock up your stuff so tightly?" Ron asked, poking his head out between the curtains of his bed as soon as he heard Harry opening the latch. "I wanted to borrow a quill."

"How about asking first?" Harry retorted, his suppressed ire flaring up again. "Excuse me, I need a shower." He took the necessary things from his trunk and deliberately locked it again without giving Ron a quill. He hadn't asked for it, after all.

When he returned fifteen minutes later, Dean was throwing him a speaking look and tilted his head towards Ron's bed. The curtains were drawn tight, and not a sound escaped.

"I hit that with a two-way silencing spell, might spare us from his snoring. My mum taught me over the summer," Dean explained. "So you finally decided to tell him what's what?"

"Yeah." Harry pressed his lips together. "I honestly have no idea what's up with him."

Seamus snorted and dumped half of his clothes on his bed. "I do. He's pissed that you won't let him use your stuff anymore. Makes me wonder whether you really allowed him to borrow those two galleons last year before the hols started. I caught him taking them, you see."

"I didn't," Harry informed him. The scowl on his face nearly hurt, it was so intense. So that was where his money had gone - and what Dobby had meant as he'd warded the trunk. "Well, he won't get any more of my things. I got my stuff secured over the summer."

Seamus and Dean nodded. Dean said, "We'll do that, too. If you want, we can tell his brothers about the money he stole. I mean, two whole galleons! That's no joke."

"They'll deal with him to your satisfaction," Seamus snickered.

Dean glared at Ron's bed. "Provided that you don't want to involve McGonagall. Because you could, and he'd deserve it."

"Uhm, no, the twins will do, I think. At least for now. Thanks."

Dean waved it off. "He needs a good talking-to, and you've been really good about his stupid arse behaviour. He wouldn't dare take my stuff because he knows I'd rip him a new one."

"I'll too, from now on," Harry muttered.

Neville hadn't said anything during their discussion, but he smiled encouragingly at Harry before drawing the curtains around his bed shut and settling in for the night.

The others bade him goodnight as well, allowing Harry to write a long entry into his journal. If he learned a couple of new expletives that night, it was between him and Sirius.

oOo

Harry woke early. He'd had a few nightmares, but nothing of real substance. Pouring his worries out on paper had helped, as had Sirius' assurance that the goblins would raise holy hell over the dementor incident. Still, Uncle Vernon had featured, which was never pleasant, along with a shrieking Aunt Petunia and a Dudley that was more than twice the size of his real counterpart. All had threatened him with violence, but they never quite managed to catch him. Far worse was the demonic shadow standing behind them, rattling breath thundering in Harry's ears and whispy, tattered robe reaching for his limbs.

After a quick wash, he headed to the common room, where he found Crookshanks lounging on the sofa in front of the roaring fireplace.

"Hey," he said. "Are you still up? How was your first night at Hogwarts?"

Crookshanks rumbled and pressed his fluffy head into Harry's palm.

Sitting down beside him, Harry was content to just stare into the fire for a few moments. His thoughts wandered from the new timetable to his summer homework and then to the appeal Professor Lupin would file on his behalf.

It has to work out, Harry thought, a little desperately. It must. I'm so over people telling me what to do.

A weight plopped down next to him and a head with lots of bushy hair leaned against his.

"Hey," Hermione said softly, reaching over to pet her cat. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Not really. You?"

She smiled. "It was okay. I always do a few exercises in the morning; it's good to fight off my demons."

"You also like to read, so you can do that, if you like," Harry said, meaning it. "I don't want to disrupt your morning."

"Maybe later," Hermione replied with a nudge and a smile. "To be honest, I wanted to ask how we want to do ... us ... at Hogwarts. I mean, all the students are basically living on top of each other, and I can already hear the gossips flapping their mouths." She took a deep breath. "It's one of the less attractive realities of a boarding school."

"What are you asking?" Harry wanted to know. "Because I'm fine with anything you want. It'll be fine if you want to play it cool, and I'll be fine if you want to let people know."

"You're so much better at this than I am," Hermione complained with a little huff.

Harry shrugged. "I just want you to feel okay about whatever we decide. So, how do you want to do this?"

"I just want to be with you," Hermione said honestly, turning a little so she could look at Harry. "I want to hold your hand sometimes, and kiss you when I feel like it. Like we were, I suppose. But I do not want people pointing fingers at us and judge us like they have any right to."

"So ... ?" Harry prompted.

Hermione was silent for a moment, biting her lower lip. "I don't really know. I never thought about being ... famous. Now there's Hector's legacy. Combine that with being your girlfriend ..." She shuddered and Harry laughed.

"Yeah," he agreed. "It might be a bit much. Heck, even I am not used to all that stuff, and I've had two years of it already." Harry took Hermione's hand and squeezed it gently. "How about this: we do continue as we were, but we're not saying anything about it. If people ask, fine, but if they don't, we're not volunteering anything."

"Mysterious, I like it." Hermione smirked. "I can just see the smoke pouring out of their ears."

"All good, then?"

She smiled, snuggling closer. So close, in fact, that her lips were very nearly touching his. "Very good," she whispered and closed the gap for their very first kiss.

oOo

Harry felt an indescribable glow all throughout breakfast, which was made even better by Hedwig's visit. Nothing anyone said could faze him. Only the arrival of the dreaded timetable put a damper on his mood.

"Professor, you know that I'll appeal this," he told his head of house and pointed at the slot for Divination, his very first class of the day. "I won't take this elective."

Professor McGonagall's face looked as if she had sucked on a lemon. "You'd best speak to the headmaster about that, Mr. Potter."

"I tried over the summer, as you know," Harry replied, a little testily, and stared at her unblinkingly. "Twice."

"Yes, be that as it may, until your appeal has been granted, you'll have to sit with the Divination class."

"Excuse me, Professor," Hermione said, "but that's not true. The Hogwarts Student Guide, latest edition, of course, clearly states that a student with a pending appeal doesn't have to sit the class he doesn't wish to take, as it would create a precedent. As Professor Lupin will begin the process today, Harry does not have to go to class."

McGonagall looked even more pinched for a moment. "Study hall, then," she said curtly and moved on, fingers whitening a little around the stack of timetables she was carrying.

"What in Merlin's name is wrong with her?" Dean asked with raised eyebrows. "McGonagall is the biggest stickler for the rules I know. How can she forget something like that?"

"Who knows," Hermione said dismissively, making a note onto her writing pad before shoving it and her pen into her bag. "I'd say come with me to Ancient Runes, Harry, I'm sure Professor Babbling would welcome you, but ..."

"But I'd better not," Harry completed her sentence and vaguely pointed at the head table where Dumbledore was watching them intently. "Seems like the headmaster knows exactly what's going on."

"I don't get it," Seamus said, looking a little vexed, but mostly puzzled. "Care to explain what the problem even is?"

Since there was no reason to keep it to himself, Harry told his friends what had happened with his choice of electives, and how incredibly unhelpful both Dumbledore and McGonagall had been during the holidays. He didn't even keep the headmaster as Harry's magical guardian by proxy to himself, although he didn't tell them who the actual guardian was. Ron remained quiet, but the other boys were angry on his behalf and voiced their displeasure quite loudly.

"My gran's on the board of govenors," Neville said. He was barely audible over the noise. "I could write her. She doesn't like nonsense ... or Professor Dumbledore ... and will probably sort it out quickly."

"Thanks, Neville." Harry smiled gratefully. "That'd be great."

Soon after, it was time to go to class. Harry waved his friends off, even Hermione, only to find himself face to face with Colin Creevey.

"Hey, Harry," the boy said a little nervously, looking around for eavesdroppers. "I didn't have a chance to get you alone for a minute yesterday, and I don't want to keep you from study hall ... I just, thanks. For the gold. My parents cried, they were so happy."

"Uhm, you're welcome." Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Please don't say anything, yeah?"

"I won't. I promised the goblins, and so did my family." Colin grinned. "I just wanted to thank you in person because that was a really kind thing to do. Bye!"

He dashed off, leaving Harry to slowly make his way towards the library. Madam Pince didn't even bat an eyelash when Harry searched out a table and took out his Ancient Runes textbook for a re-read of the first few chapters. As Hermione had promised to get any work sheets or assignments from Professor Babbling, he wasn't very worried about missing too much.

The time passed quickly, though that wasn't a surprise, as Harry spent the second half of the period scribbling the runes Healer Williams had shown him for magical communion on parchment, creating a little circle with them and feeling the playful zing in his index finger when he let it stood inside like a small person.

Afterwards he joined the class at greenhouse two, where Madam Sprout was ready to dig into this year's lesson plan.

"You didn't miss much, mate," Ron whispered as the teacher began to talk about the different kinds of funghi they'd be growing for Potions. "Professor Trelawney merely predicted your death - by grim. Not really an accident that we just talked about it yesterday, is it?"

"Yeah, sure, if you believe in that kind of rubbish," Harry muttered and rolled his eyes at Ron's barely veiled glee. A few paces away, Hermione smirked, while Lavender and Pavarti eyed him a little fearfully. "I had more fun in the library, apparently."

"Please watch out," Pavarti murmured. "A grim is serious business. As soon as you see one, you've got to get help."

"There hasn't been a true grim sighting in over a century," Hermione said exasperatedly. "Why should they only come calling now? The last two years were plenty dangerous enough for Harry, weren't they?"

Pavarti appeared somewhat comforted by that, but Lavender shook her head.

"Not really," she said. "A grim only comes when death is imminent. If it knows that someone will probably pull through, it won't bother."

"How can you know that if no one ever returned from studying them?" Hermione blushed when Professor Sprout levelled a severe look at her. "Sorry, Professor."

"As I'm reasonably certain that grims do not eat mushrooms, or any other kind of magical plant, in large quantities, you'd better save your little discussion for Professor Hagrid's class," Professor Sprout said. "And I'll have words with Professor Trelawney about her class. Every year she spouts the same nonsense and disturbs the students."

Until lunch, Harry and Hermione kept their heads down, exactly following the teacher's instruction on preparing the soil for the growth of their mushrooms. Neville was completely in his element, which helped a little to tune out Ron's little huffs and complaints.

"I wonder what Hagrid will be like as a professor," Hermione said as they trudged up to the castle. "Knowing what we know about him, it'll probably be interesting."

"Hopefully it won't be Fluffy-levels of interesting," Harry answered with a grin. "I'll go and wash my hands. Save me a seat?"

"You know I will." Hermione winked and followed Neville into the Great Hall.

Harry did wash his hands in the bathroom right next to the hall, but he also gulped down the potion Dobby handed him. "Thanks, Dobby. How was your first day at the castle? Are you finding enough things to do?"

"Dobby be secretly sorting Miss Mione's books," Dobby said smugly. "Miss Mione be making huge mess of them every night. Dobby be also helping in the kitchen and watching out for Harry Potter sir's food. Other elves be good cooks, but Harry Potter sir deserves the best. Harry Potter sir be used to Dobby's special meals now."

"I really am," Harry said gratefully.

"Dobby be getting good at being sneaky," the elf said proudly. "Now Harry Potter sir be needing to eat. His Miss Mione be waiting."

Dobby popped away and Harry went into the Great Hall, where a plate of lamb chops, roast vegetables and salad was already waiting for him. It was almost the same as the other students' food, but the berries in the salad and the even more colourful vegetables set it apart enough for Hermione to notice.

"Dobby?" she asked quietly.

"Mmh. Smells fantastic." Harry and Hermione's goblets filled up with lemonade. "I hope yours is good as well."

They tucked in, Hermione stealing a couple of elf berries from Harry's plate. After lunch, they were going outside again, this time towards Hagrid's hut. A bit away, the newly minted professor had built a paddock where half a dozen large, strange creatures were staring at the students. They looked like a majestic cross between eagle and horse, the eagle being prominent on the first half of the animal, and the horse on the second half. They even had huge wings and deadly looking talons on the feet of their forelegs.

"What are those?" Harry asked, openly staring at them.

"Hippogriffs," Hermione muttered. "Hagrid must be mad."

Class started and the hippogriffs were indeed Hagrid's choice of creature to show them.

"Now, hippogriffs are beautiful, but they're also very proud animals," Hagrid boomed. "If yer approach one, yer need ta bow nice and deep. But keep eye contact, or they'll think yer' week and attack yer. Respect is everythin' with hippogriffs. Who wants ter go first?" When no one came forward, Hagrid turned to Harry and asked a bit pleadingly, "How 'bout you, Harry?"

"Er, okay." Warily, Harry stepped away from his classmates. He was all too aware of the Slytherins whispering at his back while Hagrid was busy selecting a hippogriff from the herd. All too soon, Hagrid was back, a handsome specimen in tow.

"This is Buckbeak, a price stallion. Remember, look at him and don't blink. Now bow, nice and deep. Keep lookin' ... he should bow back any second now ... Aaah, nicely done!" Hagrid laughed and fed Buckbeak a ferret. "Yer can pet him now."

Releasing a deep breath, Harry straightened himself and approached the hippogriff carefully. Buckbeak seemed to have no objection and even pressed his sharp beak against Harry's hand. Soon, Harry felt bolt enough to scratch the head and cheeks of the animal, receiving a pleased rumbling chirp in response.

"Very well done, Harry!" Hagrid called. "Yer can ride him now!"

"What? No-"

But Hagrid snatched Harry around the middle like a child, set him onto Buckbeak's back in one swift motion, and slapped the hippogriff's rump. "Off yer go! Take a lap around the lake, then bring him back down! Oh, an' remember not ter pull his feathers, he hates that."

With a shriek and a jump, Buckbeak gallopped off, thundering over the lawn and moving his gigantic wings. Not a moment later, they were already airborne and rising fast, quickly leaving Harry's shocked classmates behind.

"Holy crap!" Harry cried as they fast approached the lake. He desperately looked for something to hold onto, but there were feathers everywhere. Resolving not to plummet to his death, he leaned forward and more or less hugged Buckbeak's neck, which the hippogriff tolerated without issue. "Okay, okay ... great. We can do this, buddy."

Fully over the lake, Buckbeak settled into an easy, beautiful glide. In the mild sunlight, he descended until he could drag his claw though the calm surface of the water. Harry was breathless with the wonder of it and even dared taking his hands away from the hippogriff's neck and spreading them out as if they were wings as well.

"Whoooo, this is awesome!" he shouted, Buckbeak echoing him with a loud screech. "You wanna go a bit faster, Buckbeak?"

Buckbeak screeched again and took off, working his powerful wings to capacity and catapulting them through the air like a bullet. Not being able to steer him much, Harry simply enjoyed their flight over the Forbidden Forest and only leaned close to the hippogriff's body when it descended and finally landed at breakneck speed near Hagrid and the class.

"Great flight," Hagrid said, delighted. "Beaky here sure loves his adventures. Good boy, have a ferret ... and another one. Yes, tha' was great, wasn't it?" He patted the animal. "Who else wants ter try?"

"I want to," Malfoy said with a sneer and swaggered forward. "If Potter of all people can do it, everybody can."

"Oh no," Hermione muttered.

Malfoy stood before Buckbeak and turned his back, saying loudly, "But bowing? Hah, what rubbish. You just have to show it who's the boss."

Crabbe and Goyle snickered while Pansy Parkinson simpered tat Malfoy.

Hagrid had difficulty keeping the hippogriff under control. "Malfoy, yer shouldn't-"

"Shut it, you oaf," Malfoy said imperiously and got closer to Buckbeak. "It's just a dumb animal. Saint Potter is not the only one who can touch it. See?" he reached out to Buckbeak's neck.

"Malfoy!" Hagrid cried, trying to push the boy back.

But it was too late. Buckbeak reared up, ripping the leading rope from Hagrid's massive hand, and brought his claws down on Malfoy with prejudice. It was a scary sight, and even though Hagrid quickly managed to drag the blond, howling boy away, the damage was done.

"My father will hear about that!" Malfoy screamed, cradling his injured arm.

"Keep that still," Hagrid said roughly, already pulling out a huge handkerchief to stop the bleeding.

"No, you keep that beast away from me!" Malfoy imperiously waved his friends over. "We're going to the infirmary. Come, Crabbe, Goyle. I need someone to lean on. Pansy, you can carry my bag."

The four Slytherins left and Hagrid was beside himself with worry.

"What do I do now? It's only my third class, and it's a disaster," the man wailed.

"It wasn't you fault," Lavender said, surprising everybody. "We all saw Malfoy taunt Buckbeak, and directly after you told us how to deal with him, too."

"We'll stick up for you," Harry promised. Despite Buckbeak's obvious resentment, he gave a bow and received one in return after a long, tense moment. "I'll take him back to the paddock. You go on to Professor Dumbledore and tell him what happened."

"Good idea. I'll come with you," Hermione said.

All the other Gryffindors except Ron agreed, and even Blaise Zabini, a dark-skinned, quiet boy from Slytherin, followed the group. Whether to spy or to support them was anyone's guess, but nobody had a mind to send him away.

As the others were slowly walking up the hill, a defeated Hagrid in their midst, Harry coaxed Buckbeak towards the paddock. "Sorry about Malfoy," he murmured, gently tugging on the leading rope. "He's an idiot. We'll sort it out for Hagrid and you."

"He'll whine to his father anyway, and get away with it," Ron said darkly. He maintained a healthy distance from the hippogriff. "You'll see."

"You're probably right." Opening the paddock, it took a little bit of persuasion and the lucky find of a dead ferret to convince Buckbeak to join his friends. Closing the gate again and locking it with a spell, Harry said, "Still, Hermione and the others are on his case, so that's something."

"As if she can do anything," Ron scoffed and fell into step next to Harry.

"What do you mean?"

"Just that she's a muggleborn." Ron scrunched up his nose. "I've got nothing against them, you know that, but others? That stuff is still important in the Ministry, and you know that's where Malfoy's father will go. He's had it out for Hagrid last year, too."

That was unfortunately true. "Hermione's not alone, though. Pavarti is a pureblood, and so's Lavender. You should help them, too," Harry said.

But Ron shook his head. "Me and Malfoy? It was no joke when I told you that there was a blood-feud. Nothing either of us says against the other can be used as evidence anywhere because we're feuding. Bloody nightmare, but that's how it is."

"I didn't know that," Harry said, a little stunned about that revelation. "Is that why Professor McGonagall rarely talks to you when you and Malfoy fight?"

"Yeah." Ron scratched his nose. "She's writing home all the time, but Mum is doing everything she can to keep Malfoy's dad from suing us. Every little thing could land us in court."

"But you wanted to curse him to vomit slugs!" Sometimes Harry didn't understand Ron at all. "Wasn't that kind of dumb?"

"Maybe, but Malfoy is an insufferable tosser and would've deserved it." Ron's glower was impressive. "He will become a Death Eater, just like his dad."

That was probably true as well, but Harry couldn't find a good enough reason for Ron to throw his family under the bus, and certainly not for a bit of petty revenge.

"It's not worth it," he said quietly, thinking about the misery getting sued by the Malfoys would surely cause the Weasleys. "Nothing you can do will keep him from becoming one, if he wants to go that way."

"The headmaster always tells us to do what we can to make the world a better place," Ron replied, sounding quite righteous. "I'm sure that includes clocking Malfoy one every now and then."

Despite himself, Harry had to laugh. "As long as you can stand the echo ... your mum would flip."

Ron lost his self-satisfied expression and slumped a little. "Boy, would she. It's not fair."

"You know what else is not fair?" Harry asked, deciding to change the topic. "Potions with Snape next. We should never have it early in the morning, or as a last class."

"Yeah, he always dismisses class late if it's the last one of the day." Ron sighed dramatically. "I'd almost forgotten. And I think the twins stole my powdered beetle legs for one of their experiments. If we need them, can I borrow some from you?"

Shuddering at the thought of some twin-concocted brew, Harry quickly agreed. "But you'll find out what they've done with them - and keep the stuff away from me."

"You have a deal," Ron agreed just as quickly, and together they trotted through the portal and went to get their things for class.

oOo

Of course Malfoy was missing during Potions, and he also wasn't at dinner that night. Hermione, who had, a bit surprisingly, found supporters in a lot of the girls of their house, was huddled over a piece of parchment and whispering strategies, which left the boys to themselves.

"It's rather early to rally the forces," Dean commented and shoved a piece of mince pie into his mouth, "but looking at Hagrid, I can kind of understand their enthusiasm. The poor guy looks like his dog died."

Harry's heart went out to Hagrid. "It really wasn't his fault. If the girls need help with anything, I'll be there."

"Looks like they have allies in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff as well," Seamus said, eyeing the corresponding groups at the other tables. "News sure travel fast here."

"Well, Malfoy did make himself heard," Dean smirked. "It's almost like he wanted people to know how dumb he is."

"I still say that Malfoy's father will pull something," Ron said. "No matter what we do."

"We'll see," Harry replied, trying not to let Ron's pessimism get to him, even if it was probably warranted.

Thankfully, the depressing topic was dropped at the appearance of puding and a discussion about the other electives started. Everybody but Lavender and Pavarti disliked Divination - and the teacher - with Dean and even Seamus loudly contemplating dropping the class in favour of Arithmancy.

"Me mum would kill me if I just dropped it," Seamus explained after Ron's dismayed squawk. "Arithmancy is like math, and I was good at that in muggle school."

"It's loads easier than Ancient Runes, in any case," Dean agreed.

"You're deserting me," Ron groaned.

"Sorry, mate, but the smell in that classroom alone makes me bonkers." Seamus pushed his empty plate away and patted his stomach. "If Dean goes, I go."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Seriously?"

Grinning unrepentantly, Seamus said, "Seriously. Me mum told me over the summer to be more like you at school. Didn't like me grades too much. I'm surprised you didn't hear her screeching."

"I did hear her screeching," Dean taunted and laughed when Sean threw a grape at him. "Let's talk to McGonagall after dinner."

"And let's hope she doesn't treat us like Harry," Seamus added, giving Harry a commiserating look.

After dinner, Hermione sat next to Harry on a sofa and read a thick book about magical law. She was close enough for him to smell her light fragrance but he wished they had more privacy for a bit of a cuddle.

Only one more day, Harry thought, resolved to not be a needy git.

Suddenly, Hermione marked the page of her book with a scrap of parchment and turned her body towards Harry.

"Do you think Dobby might bring us breakfast on Saturday?" she asked quietly, apropos of nothing, and blushed a little. When Harry stared at her, the blush intensified. "Sorry, I was just thinking about how little actual alone time we've had so far. We don't have to."

"But I want to," Harry murmured. "Truly. It's a great idea; I was thinking the same thing, to be honest. I'll ask him later."

Hermione beamed at him. "Thank you!"

Harry pointed at the dusty brick of a book in her lap. "What are you reading that for? Is it because of Hagrid?"

"Yes. Ron might not like studying, but he's usually right with his predictions regarding the behaviour of wizards in any given scenario. Maybe it's his talent; he's good at chess, after all." Hermione traced the faded gold-embossed title with her finger. "Anyway, if he says Lucius Malfoy will try to get Hagrid sacked, again, I believe that."

"It's not hard," Harry agreed. "Mr. Malfoy is a dick."

"Harry James." Hermione bit her lip to keep from laughing.

Grinning, Harry put is arm along the back of the sofa and Hermione accepted the invitation to lean against him. It wasn't a real cuddle, but it was loads better than sitting seperately until the prefects sent them up to the dorms.

Only one more day, Harry reminded himself. We've got Defence first thing tomorrow, and the rest of my classes aren't so bad, either. Maybe Professor Lupin will even have news of my appeal.

That train of thought reminded him that he hadn't really told Sirius yet about Lupin, other than his fantastic spell against dementors. He hadn't even mentioned his name, which suddenly seemed ridiculous, considering how much Harry admired the man for his casual display of power. Then again, there had been so much going on already that things always seemed to get pushed back.

I'll tell Sirius about him tonight. Who knows what he or the goblins will have to say about a werewolf at Hogwarts? I don't think he's very dangerous, but maybe Hermione is right after all. She usually is.

And that brought him back to the girl by his side, and how good it felt to just be with her. Hermione kept her book closed and looked at the fire in the fireplace; a rare occurence for her and one Harry enjoyed very much because it felt like she truly wanted to just be close with no distractions.

A bit later, when it was time to say goodnight, she gently squeezed his fingers and tilted her head to the clock in the corner. As far as hints went, it was a rather unspecific one, but Harry got it at once. Nodding slightly, he smiled, gave her fingers a little tug, and tried not to feel too ridiculously forlorn as he trudged up the stairs to the dorm.

He was only partially successful, but he somehow knew that Hermione felt the same way, and that was a rather grand consolation.

---

End of part 6