Chapter three
"Harry! Harry! Over here!"
Ron was waving at Harry from inside the
train, his entire torso out of the window.
"You get back inside, Ron!" bellowed Mrs.
Weasley. "You'll fall out and break your neck!"
"Oh dear.
Then where will we be?" said Fred in mock-agony with his hand over his
forehead. "One less neck for You-Know-Who to slice --"
"That is not even remotely funny!" Mrs.
Weasley snapped viciously. "Get on that train, you two!"
She scooted Fred and George Weasley onto
the Hogwarts Express. Then she turned around and hugged Harry. "How was your
holiday, dear? Not to stressful I hope."
Harry, overlooking the fact that he was
with the Dursleys, Aunt Marge, having reoccurring nightmares with Voldemort,
causing an illegal Rage Storm, nearly been killed several times in a green
Volkswagen Bug, and almost eaten by a Crup, shook his head. "It was quite
relaxing, Mrs. Weasley. I'm looking forward to getting back on my feet and
doing some work."
Mrs. Weasley smiled kindly. "Have a
wonderful year, Harry. Leave your things here and I'll see that they get loaded
on. Now hurry up! You'll miss the train!"
Harry thanked her and got onto the Hogwarts
Express.
"Ron's in the last compartment I think!
Tell him and the others I said good-bye and to stay out of trouble! I really
mean it!" Mrs. Weasley called, her voice carrying over the tumult and across
the platform.
The train started up with a groan and
chugged out of the station, sending cheery white puffs of smoke up into the
air. When Harry cut through the swarm of changing, loading trunks, snacking,
socializing, and bustling students, and found Ron's compartment, he waved at
Mrs. Weasley.
"Mum! You gave me Ginny's corned beef
again!" Ron hollered, still swinging his arm in the air.
"You eat what you get, Ron! Don't spend
your Sickles on those Chocolate Frogs, either! And remember to change your
underwear…"
Though she was quickly becoming a blurry
speck as they rolled away from the station, Harry swore that he could faintly
make out a stream of tears run down Mrs. Weasley's face as she watched her four
youngest children leave her. He felt a vague twinge of envy towards Ron.
"By Gryffindor's ghost, when is she going
to stop fussing over me like that?" Ron groused, slumping into his seat. "I
know she's my mum and all, but I'm fifteen already! Really, would you want your
mum suffocating you like that?"
"To tell you the truth, I wouldn't know
what it's like," Harry replied coldly.
"Huh? Oh yeah… um, sorry, Harry," Ron said
meekly.
Before Harry could wave off his apology,
the compartment door slid open, and a harassed brunette came rummaging through,
her cloak's tail whipping all over the place.
"Crookshanks? Where are you, sweetie?" said
Hermione, upturning the cushions and shoving Harry aside. "Oh, hi Harry, hi
Ron. Have you seen Crookshanks? I can't find him! He's run off and I haven't
seen him since --" She dropped the cushions in her arms. "Oh dear! What
if I've left him somewhere? Like in the car? With my mother and father! They're
heading back to Bedford right now! What'll I do without my poor little — "
"Live with some peace and quiet, and an
unscratched face?" Ron muttered to Harry.
"He must be so frightened!" Hermione sat
down and continued to fret, ignoring Ron. "What if he's lost, wandering
aimlessly, all alone in the world — "
"I feel sorry for the world," Harry
whispered back. Something warm and furry brushed across his robes and hopped
onto Hermione's lap, wagging its forked tail in the air.
"Wha -- ooh. And who might this be?"
Hermione cooed, cuddling Cosmo.
"Aww. Now you've turned him all… girly,"
Ron groaned.
"Excuse you?" said Hermione, indignant.
Cosmo settled down snugly on her lap.
"This is Cosmo," said Harry. The dog yapped
at the mention of its name.
"Smart one, aren't you?" Hermione gushed,
scratching his ears.
"Nah, just a bit nutty," said Ron,
retrieving his dog. "He's supposed to be a Crup, but seeing how it's gushing
over someone Muggle-born, Cosmo's probably too mixed."
Cosmo squirmed out of Ron's grasp, trying
to return to Hermione's lap.
"A Crup? They're supposed to be ferocious,"
said Hermione. She eyed Cosmo's forked tail. "And the fork in their tail was supposed to have been removed."
"Ouch. How are you supposed to do that?"
said Harry, cringing.
"With a Severing Charm. Oh, stop gaping at
me like that! It's perfectly painless," said Hermione. "Just send an owl to the
Department For Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and ask – "
"Can't do that," said Ron, shaking his
head.
"Why?"
"Well, I sort of… I haven't got a license
for keeping a wizard-dog," said Ron, sheepishly.
"HAVEN'T GOT A LICENSE!"
"Oh no, here we go," he said as Hermione
swelled up like a Bullfrog.
"Why, oh, why didn't you get a license?" Harry moaned, "or at least not tell
her…"
"Of all the stupid -- you could get arrested!"
Hermione huffed. "And your father works for the Ministry! He might lose his job
-- or at least think of the embarrassment!"
Cosmo lowered his ears in fear and covered
his eyes with his forepaws. Ron stammered, "I -- I --"
"They could come and just take Cosmo away! Or a fine, or a -- a -- "
"Calm down, Hermione!" Harry shouted. "The
other compartments can hear your bellowing!"
"I am not bellowing!"
"Yes, you ARE!"
"SHUT UP!"
There was an awkward silence.
"Sorry," said Harry. "You… you weren't
bellowing."
"Yes I was," Hermione admitted. "I just
didn't want Ron to lose Cosmos."
"And I
should've gotten a license," Ron grumbled.
Another awkward silence.
"Hey!" said Hermione, breaking the tension.
"I nearly forgot! Harry, here's your birthday present." She handed him a neatly
wrapped package.
"What is it?" said Ron.
Harry unwrapped it. "A book."
"Oh, blimey!
Hermione got you a book? The world's
gone mad! First, Hermione buys a book. Next thing you know, Fred and George'll
get a detention! Maybe from Snape, too!" said Ron, gasping and covering his
mouth emphatically.
"Oh, shut up!" said Hermione, throwing her
pointed hat at him.
Harry ran his fingers over the small-print
title that covered the entire leather cover. "The Very Complete Alphabetical Dictionary of Super Duperly and Ultra
Rare and/or Dangerous Beasts That are Very Pricelessly Valuable for They are
Rare and/or Beasts that May and Probably Will Maim and Kill You if They Got the
Chance So You'd Be Better Off Not Reading This and Becoming a Paranoid
Neurotic: Special Completely Unabridged and Repetitively Redundant Edition by
Phartus Smuckanderan."
"Nice title," said Ron, sarcastically, "but
it's a bit vague, tough. Mind telling me what in the world it may be about,
Harry?"
Harry gave him an unamused look.
"Thanks, Hermione! I wanted to get this,
but the manager at Flourish and Blotts didn't let me -- "
"A salesman tried to convince you not to buy his merchandise?" said Ron
skeptically. "Maybe I'm right. Maybe the world has gone mad…"
"If it hasn't, it will. You-Know-Who is
lying low right now," said Hermione, "and who knows what he's planning. But
still, everything's been pretty quiet…"
"I'm hoping," Harry replied. "No news is
good news."
"But unfortunately for you, Potter, there
is news," a cold, drawling voice suddenly informed him. Harry, Ron, and
Hermione all looked up immediately to see Draco Malfoy leaning against the
doorframe. He was surveying them idly, that perpetual smirk working his mouth
into a lazy contortion, and his eyes were half-closed as though he was savoring
the moment. For once, he was without his thuggish cronies, and Harry thought it
made him look much smaller.
"What news, Malfoy?" Harry snapped.
"Temper, temper, Potter," Malfoy
mock-sighed, "I haven't even started to provoke you yet. And it's not my fault
if you don't read The Daily Prophet, scarface." Ron took Malfoy's pause as a
chance to utter a stream of magnificent obscenities, but the Slytherin waved
them off. "I don't even want to go there today, Weasley," he sneered.
"What news?" Harry repeated, his eyebrows
plummeting.
Malfoy locked Harry in a silver stare
before answering. "Nothing that would interest you, just the fact that the Dark
Lord has powerful supporters in the Middle East now." Harry was hit by a sudden
and ridiculous vision of Lord Voldemort wearing white robes and a red checked
head cloth, but he shoved it aside. "That along with increased Dark activity in
Britain and Ireland, a few small Dementor rebellions in Azkaban… really,
nothing important, Potter, but it is news."
Harry frowned at the ambiguous smile Malfoy
was professing. "Thank you for being so informative, Malfoy," he sarcastically
proclaimed. "By the way, where are your goons?"
"Off stuffing themselves," Malfoy shrugged,
looking as though he could care less. "Oh, there's more news, Potter. I'm
the new prefect for my house. And you are not. I suppose it's because of my
grades and my services to my house. You ought to bone up on your act if you
want prefect privileges. All well, it's what you get if you're running off
causing trouble like killing that dim-witted Hufflepuff."
Ron balled his hands up into fists, Harry
folded his arms, and Hermione glared. Malfoy laughed. "Oh, I'm so scared," he
faux-whined. "Don't get your knickers in a bunch. I'm only giving you the
truth, Potter."
Hermione's eyes narrowed to slits. Harry
and Ron, noticing this, shrank out of the way, knowing that when Hermione got
mad enough to make a face, anything could happen. "You ignorant bigot! How can
someone be so asinine and hopelessly infuriating? I ought unscrew that hideous
head off and shove it up your bum!" she shouted, shaking a finger at Malfoy's
pale face. Malfoy said something very nasty--so nasty, in fact, that it is
simply not even printable--and Hermione retaliated. Right as the words fell
from his lips, Hermione slapped him hard across the face. The smirk vanished,
and Malfoy put a hand to his stinging jaw in something not unlike shocked
horror. However, the look was replaced by a smirk once more after a few
seconds.
"I've been Mud-slapped," Malfoy laughed,
but his voice was frigid. "Keep your hands to yourself, Mudblood. You wouldn't
want me to hit you back, would you?"
"Get the hell out of here!" Harry commanded
furiously. "Now, Malfoy."
"I wasn't planning to stay," Malfoy replied
coolly. With that, he spun on his heel and marched off, the glaring red patch
still gracing his left cheek.
Ron reached out and slammed the door. "Oy!"
he muttered. "Why the hell does he always turn up when I'm in a good mood? And
that's a rhetorical question, Hermione," he added. Ron, now in an extremely
rotten mood, set to work on his homework in irritable silence, leaving Hermione
and Harry to try and make awkward conversation.
After about half an hour of this, Harry
halted mid-sentence as he heard the door slide open behind him. "I thought I
told you little freak to go away! Get the hell out of my face!" he shouted,
turning around. However, as he saw whom he had been yelling at, his stomach
dropped.
"I -- er -- all right, Harry," Cho Chang
responded, her dark eyes wide with shock. Giving him a hurt look, she turned to
leave.
Harry proceeded to mumble a certain
profanity for the first time in his life and called after her frantically,
rushing out into the corridor. "Cho, I'm sorry, I didn't see you, I thought you
were Malfoy!" But it was too late. Cho had already vanished into another
compartment. Harry felt a rush of embarrassment, and then a burst of irrational
rage toward Malfoy. If the Slytherin had never come in, in the first place,
Harry would not have hurt Cho's feelings, and they could be having a nice chat
right now.
"Malfoy," he muttered, "I'll get you for
this if it's the last thing I do."
The carriages tossed
and turned as they wound along the path to the old castle. Rain had begun to
pour from the sky a little harder than before, and the omniscient black clouds
that hung low in the sky seemed to engulf the lands that were just barely
visible over the Forbidden Forest. Thunder boomed across the sky, and lightning
briefly lit it every few moments.
And
yet Harry was unperturbed by all of these factors. He sat, staring blankly out
the window of the carriage, sitting next to Ron. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were
chattering merrily about something, but Harry was content on staring outside
for the time being. Later he would talk. Now his stomach was rumbling as he
realized how hungry he was. Lightning flashed abruptly, hitting something
nearby; a loud cracking sound could be heard as the bolt made contact with the
land. Harry felt Ron jump next to him.
"Some
storm, eh?" Ron said happily.
"Yeah,"
Harry answered. "I pity the first years. It was a lot like this last year,
wasn't it? Rain only, though. Solid rain, no lightning or thunder. Maybe it has
something to do with…" he trailed off, knowing that the others knew exactly
what he was talking about.
"Could
You-Know-Who's presence change the weather, though?" Hermione asked, frowning.
"Well,
you never know," said Ron slowly, "he could be the one making all this happen."
"He's
too weak," said Harry, turning to face them slowly. "He just rose from being
half-dead for over fourteen years. I doubt he can do much of anything now."
"He
can already kill," was Ron's simple answer.
"Where're
they at?" Ron demanded angrily. "I'm starved."
"You've
already said that," said Hermione.
"I
know! And I'm saying it again, dammit!" Ron shouted.
"Well sorry!"
Hermione shouted back. "Honestly, you
didn't have to bite my head off…"
"Don't
tell me you two are going to fight the first day back," said Harry.
Ron
turned away from Hermione in a huff, ignoring Harry. He poked at his empty
plate. "So… hungry…"
"Wonder
who our new Quidditch captain will be," said Harry, hoping to get Ron to forget
his appetite.
"Dunno,"
he said.
"And
I wonder who'll be Keeper."
"Dunno."
"What
about the new Defense Against Dark Arts professor?"
"Dunno."
"Stuffing
your face… typical…" Hermione continued to mutter.
Ron turned to her, livid. "Bitchin' about
everything… typical…"
Harry peered about the Great Hall as the
two of them bickered. He sighed. It had been an entire summer holiday since he
had seen it last. Innumerable candles hovered in midair over four long, crowded
tables, illuminating the golden plates and goblets. Overhead, the bewitched
ceiling, which always mirrored the sky outside, sparkled with stars.
At
the staff table, Hagrid was sitting next to Professor Binns, the History of
Magic teacher. Also at the staff table was Professor Trelawney, the ominous
Divination teacher, talking to Professor Sprout, the dumpy Herbology teacher.
Harry noticed that the space between
Dumbledore and Professor Snape, the Potions master who utterly despised Harry
since day one, was empty. The space probably belonged to the new Defense
Against Dark Arts teacher. Harry grinned at the prospect that Professor Snape
had once against lost the position he had coveted for years.
But as he scanned the Great Hall, he
noticed that there were many gaps in the sea of pointed hats, meaning an
absence of many students. But all of Slytherin was present. Even Gryffindor was
missing some of their younger years. Most of the fifth years were there except
for --
"Hey, Ron. Where'd Neville go?"
"Huh? Dunno. I suppose his grandmother kept
him home. You know what she's like. Probably afraid Neville's going to spill
Hogwarts' secrets to some Death Eater without even knowing it," Ron shrugged.
But Harry knew why. Neville's parents had
gone mad after the Death Eaters tortured them. He couldn't blame Neville's
grandmother for being afraid for her only grandson.
Albus Dumbledore stood up and the nervous
chattering in the Great Hall stopped immediately.
"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft
and Wizardry," Albus Dumbledore shouted to the first years cheerfully, "And
welcome back to the rest of you! Now, I would like to begin with several
announcements prior to the Sorting Ceremony. As you can see, we are missing
some of our fellow students. It seems that many parents are concerned that
Voldemort is still on the loose and would prefer to keep their children home."
A ripple of students shuddered and murmured
uneasily.
"But be assured that we will be sending
them Howlers to come back!" Dumbledore smiled.
The first years stared at him with an even
greater panic in their faces. Wonderful! We have an utterly mad headmaster,
Harry imagined them thinking.
"I know you are all worried. But Hogwarts
is the safest place that you can be," Dumbledore said soberly. "We have some of
the finest witches and wizards on our staff and this castle has been standing
for more than a thousand years. Rest assured that you will all be protected
from whatever happens outside of Hogwarts' campus. Also be fully aware that
under no circumstances shall there be
a single Dementor anywhere near this school if I can help it…"
But Harry wasn't fully concentrating on
what Professor Dumbledore was saying. He was worried that Sirius may have been
caught. But not by the Ministry, of course. He's gone this long without even
being suspected. It was Voldemort that Harry was worried about. Surely he was
one of the people that Voldemort and the Death Eaters would go after
first.
"On a lighter note," Dumbledore continued,
unruffled, "Let us also welcome our old and
new Defense Against Dark Arts teacher, Professor Remus J. Lupin!"
He began applauding with the first years,
who had no idea who Lupin was. There was scattered applause from everyone else
in the Great Hall.
Professor Lupin stood up from between
Dumbledore and Snape and took a deep bow. He wore his usual ragged and patched
robes, looking older than he really was. There were many murmurs from the four
house tables about the professor. Although many remembered him as the greatest
Defense Against Dark Arts teacher Hogwarts has ever had, they also recalled the
rumors that he was a werewolf.
But Harry was delighted. No Defense Against
Dark Arts teacher had ever lasted at Hogwarts for more three terms, so
technically Lupin would be the first to last two years. He had not only been the best Defense Against Dark Arts
teacher Harry ever had, he was also one of James Potter's closest friends.
Harry, Ron and Hermione were among the few
who were clapping and the last to stop. Harry became thoughtful. "So this is
what Sirius meant…"
"Has Dumbledore gone mad? What could
possibly possess him to allow that abnormality to teach here again? I will make
sure that my father gets rid of Lupin before the first Defense Against Dark
Arts class even starts," Draco Malfoy grumbled to Crabbe and Goyle. "He has
very high connections at the Ministry of Magic."
"Oh shut your bloody trap, Malfoy," snapped
Harry.
"Try and make me, Scarhead -- " Malfoy
began to say, but as the headmaster continued his harangue, he broke of
grudgingly.
"Now, let the Sorting Ceremony begin!"
Professor Sprout brought out the worn out
and patched wizard hat and placed it on a four-legged stool. The first years,
looking extremely nervous, lined up. They jumped when the hat came to life and
said in a raspy voice, "Please excuse me, I, unfortunately, have a sore throat.
So, (coughs!) bear with me and listen
carefully. Echem!
Four
wise ones came together
Two-thousand
years ago
To (cough!)
make the school you've found.
Two
wizards and two witches we all know,
Placed
it upon this ground.
There
was the daring Gryffindor,
The just
Ravenclaw from Glen,
The kind
and sweet Hufflepuff,
The (hack!)
shrewd Slytherin.
And I am
here to help you out,
To see
where you belong,
Don't
you fear of my decision,
I've
never yet been wrong.
You
might belong in Gryffindor,
The
bravest and chivalrous the four.
And if
your thoughts are quite like these
You'll
sleep behind that door.
A
Hufflepuff you may (wheeze!) well be
If
patience and toil be your code
You'll
find hard workers just like you
In that
humble (cough! cough!) abode.
If
Ravenclaw is your home
Then
you're a clever git
They
pride themselves on their skills
Of (cough!)
learning and of wit.
Or maybe
you're a Slytherin,
Ambitious
one are you.
A
cunning group of students,
And (cough!)
very determined, too.
So put
me snug upon your head
You'll
find me quite the key
To
finding you a perfect home
'Cause
none can tell but me!
The Great Hall broke into a polite applause
as Professor Sprout unrolled a large scroll of parchment.
"When I call your name, please step up and
place the Sorting Hat on your head," she addressed the first years. "Then go to
your appropriate house"
"Come on! Hurry up, I'm starving!" Ron
whined.
"Oh, shut up, Ron! You're hungry every time
there's a Sorting Ceremony!" Hermione hissed.
"Of course. His parents can't afford to
feed him properly, especially with their wages and with that many kids," Malfoy
snickered to a couple of Slytherins, who were muffling their laughter behind
their hands.
"Avoriansomen, Lemony!"
"Hmm, HUFFLEPUFF!" the Hat shouted sorely.
The Hufflepuff table clapped lightly when a
lanky boy scurried to them.
"How does a hat have a sore throat?" Harry
asked.
"Well it has a mouth, I suppose, so I guess
it has a throat?" Hermione said uncertainly.
"Baintin, Hazel!"
"(Cough!
Cough)RAVENCLAW!"
Ron's hungry moans were drowned out by the
applause at their table. Soon, the line of first years got shorter and shorter
as Professor Sprout announced,
"Ethelwulf, Hattie! (Slytherin),
Lancaster, Evangelene! (Ravenclaw),
"We're
not having much look this year, are we?" Nearly-Headless Nick, the Gryffindor
ghost, muttered crossly.
"No,
we're not," said Harry. "You'd think we'd have at least one Gryffindor by now."
Norkwith, Frances! (Slytherin)."
"I
wonder where Professor McGonagall is," Hermione whispered as Joey Dassal was
placed in Hufflepuff, "I need to ask her about the human transfiguration
mentioned in the new textbook."
"Normandy, Chandler! (Gryffindor)," the Hat shouted.
The Gryffindor applauded loudly ("Finally!"
said Nearly-Headless Nick) the blue-eyed brunette as he sat down.
Harry's eyes wandered about the Great Hall
and caught sight of Cho Chang applauding "Rokechest, Maximilian!" at the
Ravenclaw table. Harry sighed, suddenly needing to lean on his head on his
hand.
After another fifteen minutes, the Sorting
Ceremony ended rather quickly with "Snicket, Beatrice!" (Gryffindor) and Ron
heaved a sigh of relief.
"Finally! Time for some grub!" said Ron,
rubbing his hands together greedily.
But when Dumbledore stood up to make
another announcement, Ron groaned and began pouting. The ancient wizard spoke
loudly and crisply,
"Now that the Sorting Ceremony is done, I
would also like to introduce a new fifth year transfer student from
Beauxbatons, France. I hope you will all welcome her to Hogwarts. I present to
you Harmony Lupin."
Dumbledore stepped back, revealing a pretty
girl in Hogswarts robes. She was slender but looked quite formidable, standing
proudly with her stubborn, hard chin in the air. Her unbound hair fell in to
her shoulders in dark red locks. Despite her scowl and the evil glint in her
emerald eyes, boys ogled at her some
girls (even Hermione) eyed her resentfully. Ron, remembering Fleur, a Veela
girl also from Beauxbatons in the Triwizard Tournament last year, gazed at
Harmony and forgot about his growling stomach. Even Malfoy murmured approvingly
with great interest, even though Harry doubted the Slytherin's heterosexuality.
That's a whole lot of disarray over just
some girl, Harry thought. But why hadn't he seen her on the Hogwarts Express?
Harmony stepped coyly into the center of
the Great Hall and placed the Sorting Hat on with nervous hands, grinning
apprehensively. Harry frowned. It was all a game to her! Was he the only
one who saw that she was faking her shy pretense? Apparently, he was: Ron
crossed his fingers and whispered desperately, "Gryffindor, please say
Gryffindor!"
"What?" the girl hissed from beneath the
hat. "No! But -- but -- do you know who I am?"
It took nearly five minutes of struggling
with the girl before the Sorting Hat shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"
Ron's face fell as the other Gryffindor
boys groaned. Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin looked extremely pleased and
smug until Harmony gasped,
"WHAT? WHAT DID YOU SAY?" and stomped her foot on the ground, her
combat boots slamming down on the marble floor. Everyone in the Great Hall
jumped at the sudden loud and echoing noise. "I told you! I am NOT going with
them BLOODY SLYTHERINS!"
"Well… that is TOO BAD!" the Sorting Hat
shouted equally as loud, "I HAVE MADE UP MY MIND!" (I thought he had a sore
throat, Hermione whispered)
"YOU BETTER PUT ME IN GRYFFINDOR OR ELSE!"
screamed Harmony.
"OR ELSE WHAT?"
With a frustrated growl, Harmony grabbed
the hat as it was struggling to free it self and began tearing the already
frayed fabric. A deafening cry from the hat filled the hall accompanied a thin
ripping sound. Everyone gasped and Malfoy shrieked.
"F -- F -- FINE…G -- G -- GRYFFINDOR…
GRYFFINDOR IT IS! JUST STOP THE PAIN… THE MADNESS… THE INSANITY!" the hat
wailed in despair, whimpering as it was freed from the girl's hands.
"B -- B -- But remember this! Slytherin
could have helped you become G -- G -- GREAT! You've got Slytherin blood
running through you! But noooo, don't listen to ME! I'm just a friggin' MAGIC HAT!" the hat trailed off, hopping out of the Great Hall with
Professor Sprout scrambling dumpily after it.
"Well bravo for you, you worn-out, piece of
--" Harmony gestured obscenely, cussing with very unique language.
Ron and the other Gryffindors shot a
triumphant look at the Slytherin table. Harmony strode to the Gryffindor table,
looking very pleased with herself, and took an empty seat next to Harry.
When
the banquet began, the Great Hall gradually began to become filled with
chatters again. The golden dishes before them suddenly began to fill up with
food, one by one, and everyone became more at ease after Dumbledore's speech.
Ron
kept gazing at Harmony admiringly instead of gobbling down a meat pie like
Harry. She, however, kept glancing at Harry as if assessing him.
"Bugger. You are a very cute one." George
leaned over and said playfully to the girl, "Oh dainty blossom of my rose, you
are the radiance of this darkness known as reality, the sparkle in my eyes, the
jewel --"
Harmony pressed two fingers firmly on his
throat and rolled her eyes. "Don't hassle me."
"Can't… speak…" George wheezed hoarsely.
"pressure points… pain… can't… breathe…"
"That's kind of the point, genius," she
said, exasperated.
"Well you see," said Fred, speaking for his
twin, "he thinks you're pretty; he wants to snog you; he fancies
you; our little Georgie's in love — "
"Grrrr," George growled, or at best, tried
to with his trachea strained. Harmony let go and he inhaled deeply.
"Don't exaggerate. I only put enough
pressure to obstruct your voice box, not your air passage," Harmony informed
him casually.
"Oh, it wasn't that," George sighed. "I
lose my breath when I'm in love…"
Fred dragged him away by the ear,
apologizing to Harmony, and Ron glared after them. "It's wrong," he said
sullenly, "they're two years older! It's impracticable! It's like -- it's like
-- "
"You and Fleur?" said Hermione scathingly.
"Honestly! Fleur was just a -- a veela! She was hardly even human!"
"Veela!" said Ron, ignoring Hermione.
"Harmony's a veela!"
Harry shook his head. "No, she's not blonde
nor has anyone gone mad over her. Besides, she can overhear you."
Ron glanced towards Harmony on Harry's
other side and turned beat red again. "If she doesn't reject me, she'll
probably beat the crap out of me."
All of a sudden, Professor McGonagall
entered the Great Hall in a hurry and approached Hermione.
"Oh my -- Professor McGonagall, what
happened?!" Hermione exclaimed.
Professor McGonagall's usual tightly done
hair laid in a disheveled bun with hair sticking out at odd ends. There also
appeared to be glittering green ink splattered all over her face and taut robe.
Her thick glasses lay crookedly on her nose, magnifying only her left eye.
"Oh, that. Just a little problem with the
Choosing Quill. Hermione, could I count on you to help get Harmony used to
Hogwarts?"
"Of course, Professor McGonagall!" Hermione
said, bubbling with joy at her new responsibility.
"What's the Choosing Quill?" Harry asked.
"Sorry, no time! I've got to run!"
Professor McGonagall said dashing awkwardly out of the Great Hall. Harry didn't
think someone as prim as Professor McGonagall actually rushed when doing
anything, much less run.
"Hello, my name is Hermione Granger,"
Hermione said happily, forgetting her envy towards Harmony. "How are you? How's
your family? What do you think of Hogswarts so far and what was your grade
average?"
"Alright, Granger, you're a bit too hyper
for me. Chill," said Harmony, backing away.
"Sorry. Oh, and this is Ron Weasley," said
Hermione, offhandedly. "And this is -- "
"Harry Potter," Harmony said, raising her
eyebrows. She didn't seem in admiration or revulsion. There was a finality in
her tone that gave Harry an uneasy feeling. He shifted nervously as he saw her
big green eyes stare right through him, taking no notice of his scar. "Umm,
yeah," Harry said.
"Hmm. Alright then," Harmony said
indifferently.
Harry smiled nervously. Though relieved
that he wasn't going to have another Colin Creevy on his hands, Harry felt
something amiss. "Harmony, have I seen you before -- ?"
"You're Weasley, right?" Harmony asked
abruptly, turning away from Harry and conveniently changing the subject.
Ron nodded vaguely, trying not to blush.
"What do your parents do?"
"Oh, uh…well, my father works for the
Ministry of Magic in the…uh…the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department," he
answered quickly. Ron wasn't too excited to talk about his family's
circumstances, especially to a girl he was trying to impress. But to his
surprise, Harmony replied pleasantly,
"Oh, then Arthur Weasley's your father,
right? Misuse of the Muggles Department? I met him once when I was fined for
having shooting practice with a .45 revolver. You see, I wasn't quite misusing
it. But I think what the Ministry was concerned with was that I was still four…
but that's another story!" she laughed nervously. "So, uh, father in the
Ministry, huh? Must be interesting, eh?"
"Well, not really," Ron replied casually,
feeling more confidant, "Of course, he is
entrusted with some very important responsibilities, mind you."
Harry said nothing but kept staring at
Harmony with puzzlement. He knew he had seen her before; somewhere a long time
ago… Apparently Malfoy noticed and began striding over to their table with
Crabbe and Goyle, his cronies, tagging closely behind.
"Well, well, well. Eyeing the new girl
already, are we?" he sneered.
Harry glared back at him.
Harmony must have not noticed (or chose to
ignore them), as she was in a rapid argument with George Weasley over
Quidditch. But their quarrel was interrupted when Malfoy forgot about Harry and
shifted his attention to Harmony.
"Harmony, was it? It's too bad you aren't
in Slytherin. You really shouldn't mix with a crowd like them," Malfoy motioned at Harry, Hermione and Ron, who seemed to be
fighting the urge to bash his head in. "Especially since this coterie is
composed of a pathetic mudblooded witch, and a Muggle-raised, self-aggrandizing
wizard who shouldn't even be here. Don't even get me started with the Weasleys;
they've got more kids than they can afford --which isn't a lot -- and still manage to be Muggle lovers. They're
a real waste of wizard blood if you ask me
("No one did," Ron gritted his teeth). But don't worry, I can still help you
out. My father has very high connections in the school council."
Right about now, Harry and Hermione were
just about as furious as Ron was. If it weren't for Crabbe and Goyle, they
would have all lunged at Malfoy's throat.
"Look, Albino-boy," Harmony snapped, "who
the hell do you think you are? You are in no position to determine what I
should do! Especially being the slimy Slytherin you are; stick to your own
twisted blue-blooded girls and quit hitting on me. So piss off," she ended with
a mocking grin, baring her very white and very straight teeth.
Malfoy was about to retaliate, but changed
his mind. "All well, I suppose it's too bad you want to fraternize with such…
pathetic moral do-gooders. But if you get tired of this game, you know I'll always be available."
Harmony scoffed and turned back to Ron,
Hermione and Harry, "Rich weedy little blonde bas -- "
"Why are you having such a stroppy?" Harry
dared to say.
"What stroppy? I'm not having a stroppy,"
Harmony frowned.
"You have a lot of rage inside, it seems,"
Hermione said quietly. "A lot."
"Damn straight," Harmony muttered.
"You look beautiful when you're angry," Ron
sighed. She scowled.
"Whatever. It's just that stuck-up little
Slytherin wanker!" Harmony hissed, cracking her knuckles. "If he's not careful,
I'm gonna teach him a thing or two…"
"His name's Draco Malfoy," Harry said
contritely. "He's not a particularly… pleasant person."
"Draco
Malfoy? What kind of freak name is that?" Harmony snickered. "But my name's
Harmony, so I shouldn't say anything. Horrible name… you'd think I was
some brainless, goody-goody perfect little Mary Sue blonde… Ooh, what I'd give
to crack their pretty little heads against my knee…"
"I think Harmony is a very pretty name…"
said Ron, leaning on his hand.
"Right. So what is up with this Malfoy kid?
Is he like an albino or just a really weedy bloke with wide pockets?" said
Harmony, ignoring him.
"A bit of the first and second," said
Harry, starting on the dessert. "Lucius Malfoy's his father, and they both have
really got it in for Gryffindors, especially me. Malfoy's kind of my… rival."
"How thick can Albino-boy be?" said
Harmony. "Try and rival Harry Potter. Smart. Like pissing me off: stupid and
suicidal."
"Well, Malfoy's bad all around, so trying
to challenge Harry is the least of his flaws," said Hermione, nibbling on the
sultana. "He's spiteful, conniving, prejudiced — "
"He's not prejudiced," said Ron (0still
turning pink when Harmony looked at him), "He hates everybody: Hufflepuffs,
Ravenclaws, Gryffindors, muggles, muggle-borns, animals, organized government
and religion, decent people -- "
"Wait," Hermione interrupted Ron, "Are you
perhaps related to Professor Lupin in any way?"
"Oh. Yeah, that. My parents died when I was one during the Dark Lord's crusade
so I live my Uncle Remus and we've been traveling around a lot since being a
werewolf makes him some kind of fugitive and because he's teaching here at
Hogwarts I thought I might as well transfer, hoping that I might stay here for
longer than albino-boy's package," she replied in one quick breath. "Anyway,
how's Gryffindor's Quidditch team?"
Before Harry could ask her why she didn't
transfer two years ago, Fred sent a paper airplane flying at his head. Skimming
his class schedules, Harry muttered, "That girl really scares me. Talk about
mental issues and a morbid outlook on violence."
When the feast was over, everyone filtered
out from the Great Hall and retired to their dorms. There was a gentle breeze
flowing through the campus, causing an eerie calm. The night was crisp and
brisk; the castle stood still and peaceful.
Hiking up the stone steps, Harry heard
frustrated screaming from a small room in a side landing. It was Professor
McGonagall.
"Stop! Forget it -- she's already here!"
"Um, professor? Is everything alright?"
said Harry, peering inside. The room was small and closed, like a closet. There
were envelopes and pieces of parchment all over the place, all splattered in
green ink.
"No, no really," Professor McGonagall
sighed. A regal black raven quill was on a small table tucked in a corner,
writing on its own.
"What's that?"
The professor turned around. "Oh, that's
the Choosing Quill. It keeps track of every witch and wizard that is born, then
sends them an invitation to Hogwarts when they turn eleven. I believe you
remember yours?"
Harry nodded. Hogwarts had sent him
hundreds of them because Uncle Vernon wouldn't let him read them. They
bombarded number four, Privet Drive, with the letters everyday; crammed into
door slots, window cracks, hid in the groceries, and even poured down the
chimney. It was quite very funny as Harry recalled it…
The Choosing Quill began sputtering as it
got dry, dunked itself into a bottle of sparkly green ink, and splashed that
all over the room. Harry took off his glasses and wiped them with the hem of
his robes. Professor McGonagall sighed, and rolled her eyes.
"I'm very sorry," she said, tilting her
glasses back on her nose, "but the Choosing Quill's been on the fritz ever
since I tried controlling it. That quill belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw, like the
Sorting Hat belonged to Godric Gryffindor, and they aren't supposed to be
controlled. That's why they are trusted to make important and impartial
judgment."
"Like who gets to come to Hogwarts and
which house the get into?" said Harry. The professor nodded. "But why did you
want to control it for?"
Professor McGonagall was taken aback. "Why?
I needed to, um… it had to …it had to do with Harmony Lupin's transfer. The
quill wouldn't accept a fifth year who wasn't within the United Kingdom region
when she was eleven, and she's rostered at Beauxbatons and I wanted the letter
mailed under another name… it's all very complicated."
She looked at Harry meaningfully, almost
motherly.
"How are you, Harry?"
Harry frowned. "Fine, I suppose. Good
night, professor. I should -- "
The quill sputtered at an ink clog and
tried to blow it out. The result was a new spray of ink raining down on Harry
and Professor McGonagall.
" -- get going."
Harry left as the professor shouted with
language that he was sure Hermione wouldn't be pleased to know about.
Ron, Hermione and Harmony were waiting for
Harry at the Fat Lady Painting, which swung open to reveal the hole that led to
Gryffindor's common room when Hermione said, "Bugaboo." She, Harry, Ron and
Harmony ducked inside. The common room was empty, as it was getting towards
midnight. So, the four of them parted their ways into their dorms.
That
night, Harry and Ron were wide-awake while Dean, Seamus and Neville slept
soundly.
"That Harmony is really something, huh?"
Ron murmured dreamily.
"Yeah, sure. But doesn't she remind you of
someone?" asked Harry.
"Well, I guess she does kinda remind me of
Fleur, but prettier," Ron said mindfully. "I'll say, they make 'em real nice at
Beauxbatons."
"No, not Fleur. Didn't you notice that Harmony wasn't on the
Hogwarts Expre-," Harry was cut off by Ron's loud snore.
Harry lay back on his pillow and gazed
outside of his window. He saw Hedwig flying around the campus, hunting for
mice. Then he saw another snow owl appear next to Hedwig, giving her what
looked like a dead rat affectionately. Suddenly, before Harry could get a
closer look of the other owl, he looked down and saw Harmony walking with
Dumbledore. Harry assumed he was showing her around the campus.
They both looked up and waved. Harry waved
back. Suddenly, his scar began to quiver when he caught sight of Harmony's
eyes. But after they left, his scar settled down. When he took another look
outside, Hedwig and her new friend had also disappeared. He wondered if he
should write to Sirius. His scar didn't exactly hurt, just quivered.
Harry
leaned back and sighed. He had no idea where Sirius was since they separated at
King's Cross station. Just when he thought he couldn't feel more anxious, Harry
remembered that he had Double Potions first thing the next day.
"Tomorrow's going suck…" Harry yawned,
taking his glasses off.
But his heart skipped a beat when he
realized Professor Lupin was back. "Maybe tomorrow won't be too bad…"
Harry would've
wondered why Lupin had come back, but it was getting late. With one final
glance at the window for Hedwig, Harry drifted off. But as he fell asleep,
Harry murmured, "mum…" and never would remember doing so.
A/N: damn, I hate this chapter. I hate the entire bloody story. I wouldn't post this thing that I wrote last year, but you people seem to like it. Well, I couldn't decide how to introduce Harmony, so I went with a cliché Mary-Sue. But that's not what she is; she's not perky, happy and perfect, and doesn't brighten the lives of the HP characters (she kinda brings a cloud of doom to them). She's kind of a bitch, huh? Well, don't worry about her; she's not important until the end, so you could ignore her for now. But it is fun writing about how bitchy and human she is. BTW, I didn't create the sorting hat's song, but I can't remember who did. I'd like to credit her/him, but no one cares anyway. PS, Mary-sues all must die J