Darkness had closed over the Hogwarts Express while the train rocked and chugged its way northward. Harry sat in a compartment with Ron, Hermione, and Neville, who had just changed into his school robes but had to redo the entire process due to their being wrong way out. Harry smiled to himself, thinking of all the times he had done this. Ron made quite a show out of arranging his prefect badge on his robes. Hermione, who was also a prefect, told him to cool it, and Ron sat down with a huff. Harry grinned.

"Did you hear about Cedric?" asked Ron out of nowhere, and Harry heard Hermione suck in a quick breath.

"Cedric?" responded Harry warily. "What about him?"

"Oh, just that he got hurt last year in the Tri-Wizard Tournament," contributed Hermione, looking up from the book in which she had been buried for most of the train ride. "It's not something to gossip about," she said frostily, returning to her book.

"Hurt?" asked Neville. "Can't Madame Pomfrey sort him out again?"

"I guess it was some sort of … the Death Eaters…" explained Ron, and Neville made a strangled gagging sound in his throat. Harry remembered that Neville's parents had been cursed by Death Eaters, and he shuddered.

"It was a curse," explained Hermione with exaggerated patience, once again surfacing from her book. "You know he's Head Boy this year, right?"

"So he's using a wheelchair now?" asked Ron with interest, undeterred from the previous conversation.

"He uses crutches sometimes," said Hermione.

"I saw him at St. Mungo's," said Harry thoughtfully. "I didn't really know how badly he'd been hurt until then."

"Hey, you were off at Durmstrang, mate," said Ron in a tone that told Harry he was holding both palms outward.

"I wonder what else I missed," said Harry glumly, more to himself than to his friends.

"Knitting," said Hermione brightly, answering his rhetorical question and still trying to change the subject.

"Knitting? At Hogwarts now, too?" Harry's tone held distaste. "Durmstrang taught knitting and I could never see why."

"It's an ancient magical practice," began Hermione, but Ron cut her off.

"We've arrived!" he called as the train whooshed to a stop at Hogsmeade Station.

Everyone became very busy collecting parcels and bags, and their conversation was forgotten. Ron dashed out to find their group a carriage whilst Harry unfolded his cane, mentally blessing the darkness. Although he loved being able to see light again and get information that light provided, he had forgotten just how much pain accompanied each shaft of light and how welcome a relief the darkness was.

The corridor of the train was clogged with students, and Harry hung back, waiting for the crowd to clear a bit before he made his way onto the platform. As usual, Hermione offered to help, but this time Harry wanted to use his newly reclaimed vision, poor as it was, and go at his own pace.

Thankfully, Hermione didn't huff about it and simply left the carriage on her own. Neville wandered along behind Harry, calling out for his toad, who had hopped away among the throngs of students.

With his cane, Harry traced the corridor and found the right-hand turn to the stairs. He tipped his face toward the night sky, wondering if any stars would penetrate the dim blur that was all he could see. None did, but the soft glow from the lanterns on the side of the platform greeted him like friends, and he remembered that their light was a deep yellow, although he couldn't see the color now.

"There you are, Trevor," said Neville behind him, and Harry grinned. How long had Neville been chasing that ridiculous amphibian?

He stepped lightly onto the platform and followed the crowd of students toward the waiting carriages.

"Harry! Over here!" Ron's voice directed him toward the carriage he had chosen.

"Come on, Neville," he said with a smile over his shoulder, remembering what it felt like to need a welcome.

He followed the sound of their voices toward the carriage in which they sat; Neville, trailing him, was still distracted by his struggling toad. Harry felt soft fingers on his wrist and immediately recognized Gemma's touch.

He turned to her and signed a greeting and held his hands up to her so that she could respond underneath them. The carriage tilted as they climbed aboard and once they were settled, it began its creaky ascent toward the castle.

"What pulls these things, anyway?" asked Harry, but was diverted from his question by Trevor the toad hopping into his lap with a plop.

He gathered the toad, which seemed to be all squirming legs and feet and squashy body and handed it back to Neville. "Ugh. Here, Neville, keep this guy to yourself."

"Who's up for a pick-up Quidditch game tomorrow?" asked Ron brightly, and Harry signed his words to Gemma.

"I need to study," signed Gemma vaguely, and Harry wondered why she didn't want to play, but he didn't want to pry.

"Nah, I need to practice my knitting," he said playfully, signing as he spoke.

Gemma whacked him lightly on the shoulder.

"What? I do!" he defended in mock seriousness. "You sound like Hermione, studying all the time. Where is she, anyway?"

"As if you would ever turn down a chance to play Quidditch!" she said, the grin evident in her hand motions under Harry's cupped palm.

He gave an exaggerated shrug.

Ron answered Harry's question: "Hermione ran off when she got out of the train. I saw her talking to Cedric on the platform."

"Maybe it was Prefect business," responded Neville.

"I'm a Prefect! No one said anything to me. And anyway, she always rides with us," said Ron.

The carriages pulled up to the front of the castle, and this time he took Gemma's elbow, squinting against the flood of light pouring from the open door of Hogwarts.

In a group, they climbed the front stairs and passed into the entrance hall. The now-familiar feeling of homecoming settled around Harry like a cozy, invisible blanket. He closed his eyes for a moment in order to picture the scene in full color and detail in his mind's eye: the warm brown of the stone, the glow of the torches, the paintings and faces, and hundreds of black school robes.

Opening his eyes again to the gray blur, washed out by overexposure, almost made him wish he still saw nothing. In so many ways it was harder to see little than none at all, and certainly, it was more painful. He shook his head slightly to clear these troubling thoughts.

"Oi! You coming, mate?" called Ron, and he realized he'd relinquished Gemma's arm and was standing alone, brooding.

"Sorry, coming," he said, raising a hand.

He followed the crowd into the Great Hall, lit brightly by the hundreds of floating candles overhead. This time it was Ron who tugged at his sleeve, guiding him to join his friends at their place along the Gryffindor table.

Harry found the bench with his cane and then ran it along the edge to make sure no one was sitting there already and swung his legs over to sit next to Ron. Someone sat down next to him and he leaned toward them, uttering, "Hi?"

"It's just me, Harry," Neville said.

Harry ran his hand over the table, finding familiar patterns in the gouged wood. He was glad to be back at Hogwarts. The clamor in the hall quieted to a hush and Harry turned his face toward the headmaster's table, imagining that Dumbledore had done something to indicate that he was going to speak. But instead, there was a murmur of confused whispers that grew to an expectant hum as the students shifted on the bench.

"What is it?" Harry whispered to Ron.

"Huh? Oh. I dunno. New people?"

"What do you mean, new people? New teachers?" asked Harry.

"What? Criminy!" Ron exclaimed.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, exasperated that Ron was being so inattentive.

"I dunno. She's not here, either!" Harry could feel Ron twisting next to him, scanning the crowd for Hermione.

"Neville, do you know what's going on?" Harry leaned forward.

"There's a couple of new witches at the teacher's table and a wizard. Ugh. They look kind of creepy."

"Oh, how so?" Harry asked, relieved to be getting more information.

"Er, they seem even meaner than…" but Neville stopped talking when Dumbledore began to speak, welcoming them all back to Hogwarts.

As Dumbledore was introducing new staff, someone made a small but clearly audible cough that made Harry shiver though he wasn't sure why and Dumbledore stopped the introductions. There were surprised gasps from the students and then a mawkish voice rang through the hall and Harry remembered where he'd heard it before.

"What's she doing here?" Harry gasped.

"What do you mean? Do you know her?" Neville asked.

"She was at my trial," Harry said as the bile began to churn in his gut.

"What is she talking about?" Neville said in an undertone.

"No idea. I wish Hermione were here. She'd know."

"Yeah," Neville said glumly.

Just when Harry thought things couldn't get worse, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic announced that not only was she instrumental in bringing the Carrow twins to Hogwarts to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, she informed the hall that she herself was going to remain at Hogwarts this year as well providing additional security during uncertain times.

"Gah! I didn't think it could get any worse!" Harry lamented. "The Carrows, here! I thought Dumbledore would have stopped them!"

"What? You knew?" Ron asked.

"It came up at my trial," Harry murmured.

"Additional security? What does that even mean?" Ron asked, dropping his head on the table with a thud.

"We really need to find Hermione. Where is she?" Harry as he strained to hear her familiar voice over the unsettled mutterings at the Gryffindor table and the rest of the hall.

When it was finally time for dinner, Harry's stomach was a tight ball and the thought of food made him nauseated. He sat quietly while the dishes popped into being on the table and the normally heavenly aromas assaulted his senses. He noticed that Neville was also reluctant to dig in, but Ron and Seamus pounced on the dishes as soon as they appeared and in no time were masticating and gulping in their typical fashion.

Harry shook his head.

"Wha—?" Ron said through a fog of mash.

"I had just forgotten what it was like…" Harry trailed off.

"What was like?"

"Er, nothing," Harry said, not wanting to start a fight on the first night of the term.

"Er, whatever. Say, pass the peas, please!" Ron asked.

"Where are they?"

"Over there… er. Sorry mate. Forgot. Neville? Can you?" Ron stammered. "Aren't you going to eat, Harry?"

"Nah. Not hungry."

"That's a first!" Ron said, thudding him on the back.

Harry closed his eyes and willed his stomach to stop roiling. At long last, the meal was over and the hall erupted as students were dismissed to their respective houses.

The crowd of excited Gryffindors surged toward their tower, but Harry trailed behind them, having lost track of his friends in the throng. Morosely, he thought about what Umbridge had said, and about having the Carrows here. He wondered if they had brought Alexei with them.

At last, he found himself arriving at the Fat Lady, just as the last of the others went in, and he nipped through before she closed again, which was good, since he hadn't heard the new password yet.

In the common room, people milled about, setting up future plans before heading up to their dormitories.

"Harry! There you are, mate!" said Ron, who had obviously been scanning the crowd. "Do you know where Hermione is? I still can't find her."

"No idea," replied Harry, who had long ago given up trying to keep track of other people he couldn't see. Either they found him or he had no idea, and had learned not to let it bother him much.

It bothered Ron. "She should be here. Our prefect duties and reports were done ages ago. What if she doesn't know the password?" he worried.

"She's fine," soothed Harry. "If anyone knows the password it's Hermione. She is probably off with Cedric."

"Cedric?" Ron sounded startled. "Why would she be with him?"

"I don't know," said Harry carelessly. "It just seems like every time I see her lately they are together."

Ron took this information in without comment.

"I'm going up," said Harry, beginning to pick his way through the crowded room, his cane held vertically in front of him so he didn't trip anyone. "Coming?"

"Sure, I suppose so," said Ron a little glumly. He followed Harry toward the stairs.

Once in the dormitory, Harry discovered that someone was already there but he couldn't quite determine who it was.

"Hey," he said in greeting, hoping for more clues.

"Harry, hey!" said the Unknown.

"Hi Dean," Ron chimed in without enthusiasm, and Harry's problem was solved.

"What's eating him?" asked Dean, but Harry just grinned.

"Know what I heard?" asked Dean rhetorically. Ron had opened a packet of crisps and was munching. Harry turned toward Dean. "You know Cedric Diggory, right?" Ron choked on a crisp.

"Sure, why?" asked Harry.

"I heard that he is making a common room," started Dean.

"He is a Hufflepuff. They have a common room," said Ron around his coughs. "They call it some badger-den word."

"Not a Hufflepuff common room," Dean explained. "A common room for all the houses."

"Together?" asked Ron skeptically.

"Brilliant!" exclaimed Harry. "At Durmstrang, we were all together, you know. It didn't matter which House we were in."

Ron popped another crisp in his mouth, as if trying to assimilate this astounding new idea.

"I heard that he wants people from all the houses to go there," Dean went on.

"Where is it?" asked Harry.

"I don't know," Dean said, turning back to his trunk.

"Slytherins won't come," predicted Ron.

"Adrian will," said Harry loyally.

"They'll kill him," Dean put in thoughtfully. "Ron's right."

"He'll come," stated Harry, turning to his bed, where he found not only his trunk but also boxes of Braille books in stacks. He'd assumed that the three Madame Worthington had shown him were all there were, but the towering, uncountable numbers of boxes by his bed told him differently.

"What classes are you guys taking?" he asked. "Are either of you taking Ancient Runes?"

"No way. Too much work," laughed Dean. "Are you? Why, mate?"

Harry didn't want to tell him that the reason he had signed up for Ancient Runes was because he already had one of the books and it didn't involve him having to point his wand at anything he couldn't see or mix anything or try and make star charts. He didn't think Dean or Ron would understand, so he shrugged. "I dunno."

"What girls are in Ancient Runes?" Dean asked in a teasing voice. "We'll find our answer there, I'll wager."

"Not a girl." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Methinks he doth protest too much," quoted Dean, and a second later, Dean's pillow came out of nowhere to smack Harry upside the head.

Harry snorted and threw it back. Dean retaliated with a tackle, which Ron joined, and soon an all-out tumble ensued. When Seamus and Neville entered the room a short time later, they found the three panting on the floor all finishing Ron's bag of crisps. Harry had found his appetite again.

When Harry, at last, got back to his trunk and his boxes of books, he discovered something else when he sat on his bed: something furry and squashy and very alarmed at being under him. It hissed and swore and spat as he leapt to his feet.

"Crookshanks!" he said to the big, fluffy, orange cat. "What are you doing up here? Shouldn't you be with Hermoine?"

Now that he was no longer flattened under Harry, the cat stretched out and began to purr, kneading the blankets with his front claws. Harry knew he wouldn't transform into Feliss Eliot the Auror here in front of all the fifth year Gryffindors, so he merely stroked the cat's soft fur and smiled to himself. He felt glad Crookshanks was there.

Later, Harry walked along the stone corridor, swinging his cane absently in front of him. He was on the way to the hospital wing to visit Madame Pomfrey to follow the Healer's orders to have his eyes checked eyes daily for two weeks longer. He also thought about asking for a potion from her to dull the headache that throbbed at his temples. He hadn't completely gotten rid of it since the procedure at St. Mungo's, although it sometimes rested growlingly in the background if he kept his eyes covered.

As he turned a corner, he came unexpectedly onto two people conversing earnestly with one another in low voices. Harry's cane hit the metal wheels of a wheelchair with a reverberating ping, and he knew it was Cedric.

"Err, uh, sorry, mate," apologized Harry.

"No, it's uhh…" Cedric began, obviously trying to find a place to get out of Harry's way, but he was trapped against the stone wall of the corridor.

Suddenly Harry started to laugh. "No problem, mate," he said. "Who is here with you?"

"It's me, Adrian," said Adrian Pucey, also awkwardly, and Harry laughed again. "We were just talking about Ced's idea of a whole-school common-room. Have you heard about it?"

"I heard some talk…"

"I asked Dumbledore about it and he thinks it's a really good idea," added Cedric enthusiastically. "But we need all the houses to use it." He emphasized the word "all" and Harry realized why he had a Slytherin alone here to talk about it.

"I, for one, will use it," stated Harry. "I have friends in other houses that I really want to talk to sometimes. Like we did last year."

"Sure, the idea's brill and all," admitted Adrian. " I just…"

"You have other Slytherins to deal with," finished Harry.

Adrian sucked his breath in through his teeth but didn't comment. Everyone pretty much knew what surviving as a Slytherin was like.

Harry wondered if Adrian would retreat back into some kind of shell again now that they were back at Hogwarts and never come out. He hoped not, because he'd enjoyed getting to know the older Slytherin last year and he hoped they wouldn't be cut off as friends by stupidity and prejudice now. He realized Adrian was another student who had a disability. Of the few at Hogwarts, three were together in this corridor at this moment. Harry experienced a small shiver run up his spine. It couldn't be an accident.