AN: A new Haphne! I'm really excited to get through this one. I love flowerpot, but Haphne is a very close second. I've got this bad boy outlined, and I've finally quit making so many changes to it. Personally I like to finish then post, but being on a schedule, I need to get as far ahead as possible.
If you'd like, you can find us on our Pat reon and Discord. The Pat reon already has my next post up, which, at time of writing this, is a brand new spicy followup chapter for Teleology. I felt bad for not really letting them get to it in the story, and figured it'd be fun to revisit it, which it really was.
Pat reon: /libjax
Discord: discord. gg / APZWJwksRV
Ko-Fi: /libjax
And, if you somehow haven't found it already, there is a fairly active Haphne discord as well: discord. gg / pKSdvJQvhU
It hadn't changed.
Somehow.
The worn stone of the platform at Hogsmeade station still became a slippery, dangerous mess when it rained, and the younger students still jumped through puddles, splashing their friends and enemies alike.
Harry watched a boy — no older than third-year — kick an arc of water into the shoes of another boy before dashing ahead, giggling like a fool.
But fools were often the happiest of all. To still be a kid whose biggest problem was standing in the showers, thinking of comebacks to whatever Malfoy was cooking up in his irritating little brain.
To be that, and not the man who stood in the shower long after it'd run cold after besting Draco in a mortal duel.
"We're back."
Ron's voice spiked through Harry's ears and revealed an empty platform, save for the three of them.
Fitting, that.
"I didn't think it'd feel so strange." Hermione's voice came quiet through the slight rain and she pressed up against Ron. "But, no matter how it feels, I don't fancy getting much wetter. If I have to dry my hair by magic I'll look ridiculous for the feast."
Ron laughed and took the first stride toward the carriages, Hermione's hand in his. "Nobody will notice."
Harry followed his friends, a smile peeking through the shroud of odd nostalgia draped over his mood. What began as a panicked, desperate culmination of feelings during their time on the run had lingered after the war ended, leaving a relationship that he might envy. Eventually.
But that sort of thing wasn't really on the to-do list. Not exactly.
The carriage bumped and rattled its way up to the castle; the thestral unperturbed and unhurried by the worsening rain. As they neared the castle, Ron broke the pensive silence of the small cabin.
"I wish we hadn't waited. Everyone's going to think we wanted to be seen coming in."
Hermione's hand found his knee and squeezed.
"They might not even notice."
"Fat chance of that," Ron said, grimacing. "You remember what King's Cross was like."
Harry shrugged, leaning forward to peer out the window and up at the towering walls of Hogwarts; its windows glimmering yellow light through the rain.
"They're going to talk no matter what we do. If we'd come in first, we'd be entitled. Along with everybody else; we're pretending to be just like them. Last; we want to be seen."
"It's not going to be that bad," Hermione said, reaching out to flick at Harry's arm. "This isn't like it was before. Like it or not, they see us as heroes."
The carriage rattled to a stop and Harry pushed open the door. "I guess we'll see. Let's go before the Headmistress has a fit."
The Great Hall quieted as we entered, heads turning to watch as Hermione dried us off with a few quick flicks of her wand. Heads turned from each of the house tables, with most from the staff table following suit.
Whatever nerves had coiled and bound tight in Harry's stomach, unwound a little when he caught sight of Lupin, smiling at them from his seat next to Hagrid.
The only face not turned to watch seemed to be Slughorn, whose pudgy red cheeks and big wet eyes were focused squarely on a cup of what Harry assumed was a wine of some rare and spectacular vintage.
They made their way amidst the growing conversations to some open seats at Gryffindor table, next to Neville and Dean.
"Thought you'd gotten lost," Neville said, leaning close to Harry to be heard. "You can tell McGonagall's itching to get started."
Before he could reply, the Headmistress was at the podium, busy silencing the chatter with a probing stare over her square spectacles.
"Thank you," she said once everyone was paying attention. "In future, let's try not to take quite so long. I'm sure the first years are anxious enough to be sorted as it is."
The hall was quiet as Hagrid led the first-years into the middle of the room, with even the professors sitting a bit more straight-backed than usual. Even as Headmistress, Professor McGonagall still performed the sorting herself, dropping the hat onto each nervous child's head and prompting them towards their respective tables once finished.
The sorting passed far quicker than Harry remembered his own being, though he doubted those nervous kids waiting at the end of the alphabet would agree. Gryffindor gained a record number of firsties, which he made sure to smile and greet as they all approached with nothing but wide-eyes and fumbling words.
Best to nip the whole 'unapproachable mystique' in the bud while he could. Being fawned over by star-struck first-years wasn't on the list either.
Even Slytherin gained a few new students, ones that were badly needed after their herd had been thinned somewhat by the removal of those who had followed their parents into the ranks of Death Eaters. And although he wasn't sure, he thought a few of the remaining older Slytherins may have waved awkwardly at him when he glanced in their direction.
The feast started soon after and a sense of normalcy started to creep in around the edges of Harry's thoughts. The food was outstanding, as it had always been. But the mix of almost the entire previous year on the run and the idea of it being their final feast added a little extra spice to the meal.
Final feast, final year at Hogwarts. His last chance to just live, without expectation or overwrought plans or destiny or anything. No decisions, no career worries. Just tests, friends, and whatever fun he could find.
Fun was number one on the list.
He'd earned it, after all.
After the feast Professor McGonagall rose and walked to the podium, quieting the hall with a wave of her hand.
"Before we get on to the announcements, allow me to address some of the more significant issues we face while beginning this new year."
Even whispered conversation ceased as a sudden sense of seriousness gripped the room. Professor McGonagall had always posessed a certain amount of dense gravitas when lecturing and behind the podium, it was amplified a hundredfold.
"To the first and most obvious point, I am the new Head of this school, taking over for the late Albus Dumbledore."
A wave of murmuring swept through the hall, staff table included, and receded just as quickly.
"To those of you who I have taught before, you will find my attitudes and policies have not changed with my new position. To the newest students, I welcome you, and hope you find you can rely upon the staff and myself should you need guidance or assistance."
She cleared her throat and put a smile on her face, gesturing to the assembled students with a wave of her hand.
"Secondly, as a celebration of our victory and in recognition of the importance of our allies in the struggle, we have elected to break with old tradition and again be participating in the Triwizard Tournament."
The explosion of noise sent Harry's head spinning, his stomach making synchronous loops.
"Yes, thank you for your enthusiasm, but kindly wait until I have finished."
The roar fell to a murmur and she continued.
"Since we were the hosts during the last tournament, our sister-school of Beauxbatons will be hosting this year."
Even through the uncomfortable churn of his stomach at the prospect of another tournament, Harry's interest piqued. In the few discussions with Fleur over the years, she painted the image of a school that was beautiful beyond belief.
"Students in their final year will be offered the opportunity to represent Hogwarts. We will depart on October thirty-first and stay for the majority of the school year. You will still be required to attend classes and test for your NEWTs, though you will return to Hogwarts to test. Those of lower years will be allowed to Floo to Beauxbatons the day of each task, and will return that evening."
Muttering became full-blown excitement that Professor McGonagall didn't bother quelling.
"Your heads of house will have more information. You are dismissed. Prefects, lead your houses to their dorms."
It wasn't until the scrape of benches filled the hall that Harry noticed the argument brewing next to him.
"I think I've got a pretty good chance."
"Absolutely not. You remember what it was like for Harry!"
He shrugged and nodded when Ron looked over for support. "Wasn't ideal."
"See?"
"But I was a fourth year though, so you've got that going for you."
"Harry!" Hermione squawked.
"I reckon if Ron enters, he'll get picked," he said, following them from the Great Hall amidst a hundred similar conversations. "He's got more experience than any ten people here and I don't know about you, but I'm not going to enter, so that's us out of the way."
"Well he's not going to enter, so we don't have to worry about it," she shot back, glaring at the side of Ron's face.
"Relax, Hermione," he said, which sent prickles of danger up Harry's spine. "We don't even know what it's going to be like this time."
"What it's going to be like?! Relax?! It's going to be the same as it's ever been!"
Harry peeled away from the widening circle around his bickering friends and made his way to Lupin's office on the third floor. The walls and corridors were no different than he remembered. He watched the paintings as he passed them and studied the armor, expecting to find…something. Something that told him that the castle had been embroiled in a war less than a year previous.
But everything was exactly the same. Which was what he preferred, if he thought about it. No more war to worry about, no more problems. No more Voldemort.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was similarly unchanged, with only a few spots of personal flair littered around the room. A poster of a grindylow that peeled away the creature, layer by layer until only a diagram of a skeleton showed hung on the wall near the blackboard. Organized jars of various small creatures and presumably important reagents filled shelves lining the room, with a familiar cabinet stuffed in the back corner, partially hidden by a gray veil.
Harry found Lupin in his office, unloading the last few things from a trunk that seemed a bit too small to hold the massive wooden coat rack Lupin pulled from inside.
The older man glanced at Harry as he stepped into the room and grinned at the frown he saw.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me," Harry said.
Lupin chuckled and set the rack against the wall behind his desk.
"So you could…what? Still not enter?" he asked, pulling coats and cloaks from where they lay atop a nearby lounge chair. "Besides, I was sworn to secrecy."
"I know how to keep a secret," Harry grumbled, levitating the rest of the clothes onto the rack with a wave of his wand before dropping down into the vacated chair.
Shaking his head, Lupin lowered himself slowly into his desk chair with a grunt.
Harry winced in sympathy. "How's the knee?"
"Same as ever," Lupin said, his chair creaking as he leaned back to study Harry. "I take it that visiting Beauxbatons fits neatly into your little checklist?"
"You were there when I put 'do fun things' at the top of my list. You could have told me about it then. You're the one who suggested it, anyway."
"Ah, but isn't that me telling you about it, in a roundabout way?"
"Not even a little bit," Harry laughed, then sobered. "I was looking forward to having you as a teacher again. Especially with NEWTs coming up."
"I'll still be here if you want to visit or floo call on weekends. Besides, I doubt you'll need much practical classwork to pass your Defense NEWT."
"Still…" Harry hesitated, unsure how to explain himself to the man who had so carefully stepped into the Sirius shaped hole in his life.
"Tell you what, if you end up missing the class that bad, I'll let you come in next year and be a tutor."
At that, Harry laughed and shook his head, rising from his seat.
"That sounds like a problem for future Harry and solving it now runs pretty opposite to number one on 'my little checklist'." He sighed. "I've had enough of a dictated future. I want to finally enjoy my freedom, and I guarantee it won't be filled with something as boring as making a career decision while still in school."
"You've certainly earned your relaxation," Lupin said, waving a hand in dismissal. You'll have plenty of fun at Beauxbatons if you can manage to stay out of trouble and try, try not to wander your way into the tournament again."
"Zero problems. All fun. Don't you worry."
"I find that the two are rarely exclusive."