AUTHOR'S NOTE: with chapter four you may notice time overlaps as the same events are told from another character's point of view. (JB, Isabel will be back)
As the Hogwart's express pulled to a stop at the Hogsmeade Station, Harry looked out the window and smiled at the familiar sight of Hagrid standing with his lantern raised. As Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys joined the crowd of students leaving the train, Harry could hear Hagrid calling out to the first year students and saw him herding them toward the end of the platform. Harry remembered when he had been a first year. He was excited and frightened but the sight of Hagrid, who he had met weeks earlier, had made him feel more at ease. Even four years further on, the familiar sight of Hagrid was comforting to Harry. Hagrid grinned and waved as he passed and Harry did as well. The sight of Hagrid made Harry feel, more than ever, as if he had arrived home.
For certainly Harry felt more at home at Hogwarts than he did in his supposed "home" with his Aunt and Uncle (who were his guardians) and his obnoxious cousin, Dudley. The Dursley's never hid their dislike of Harry and strove with unequaled zeal to make his life miserable. Frankly, he hadn't needed any help on that front this past summer. The harrowing events at the end of last term had left him deeply shaken. Harry had witnessed the "resurrection" of Voldemort, the most powerful Dark Wizard for a century. A classmate had died and Harry had barely escaped from that ordeal with his life.
He had much opportunity to brood on the events of that harrowing night in the seemingly endless weeks spent at his Aunt and Uncle's. Too often, he woke from nightmares drenched in sweat. Too often, he found his thoughts wandering to things he had seen, to things about which we was anxious but had no ability to change. Even his "family" seemed to notice that Harry had changed - for they left him alone far more than they ever had. His friends had been terrific about sending plenty of post owls full of cheery news and Harry suspected that these letters were, in large part, responsible for helping him make it to September first, the day of his return to what he felt was his true family at Hogwarts, to people who at least understood.
After Harry and his friends were deposited at the steps to the castle by the carriages which moved under a magical power of their own, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny eagerly mounted the stone steps, with Ron groaning, as usual, about how hungry he was.
"I'm starving! I hope the sorting doesn't take long!"
Hermione rolled her eyes "Can you think of anything aside from your stomach?"
Ron turned to her with a wicked grin, "Not when I'm this hungry!"
Harry shook his head, smiling at their all-too familiar bickering. It had started up on the train. Harry had noticed, however, that Ron's barbs were not at all up to his usual standard. In fact, he looked a bit forlorn as they were swept along into the Great Hall and Hermione moved along to join the other prefects at the prefects' table. Harry was tempted to say something "smart" to Ron about this when he caught sight of Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw sixth year upon whom he had a bit of a crush himself. He colored a bit and decided that, as he lived in a glass house, he ought to refrain from throwing stones.
As they moved with the crowd into the Hall and found their seats there was much chattering and moving about as old friends and classmates who hadn't had a chance to catch up with one another on the train sought one another out. For its part, the familiar hall looked magnificent. The enchanted ceiling reflected the sparkling starlight of the night sky. The reflected starlight joined the winking of hovering candles, caught in the golden cups and plates used for feasts at Hogwarts. As Ron and Harry found seats alongside Ginny and fellow Gryffindor fifth year Neville Longbottom, Harry felt enfolded in warmth and familarity.
Harry turned his eyes to the Staff table which seemed unusually full this year. With a sly smile Harry noted the presence of Fleur Delacour, a graduate of Beauxbatons upon whom Ron had a hopeless unrequited crush the year before. This would surely be an interesting year. Delacour was not the only new face among the staff. A dark haired woman who seemed several years older than Fleur was seated between Hagrid and Filch who was chattering to her with a smile on his face. Harry wasn't sure he had ever seen Filch smile before.
Harry pointed her and Filch's smile out to Ron who looked equally surprised.
"Well, she can't be the Dark Arts professor, can she? Look, Moody's down the other side near Snape." The scarred, eccentric old Auror was, indeed seated next to Snape taking a sip from his hip flask. Harry had to repress a slight shudder at how familiar this action was. It felt as if he had seen Moody do this hundreds of times the year before. In fact he had not. The man all had assumed to be Moody for most of the year had been an imposter... an imposter who had delivered Harry into the hands of the evil Lord Voldemort.
Harry understood that the man at the table was the real Moody. As he looked at him and remembered what happened last year, his stomach did not seem to agree with his head. He felt it contract and he was suddenly not very hungry at all. Harry put his hands flat on the table and took a deep breath, glad everyone was too busy to notice his reaction. But, when he looked up, he saw that not everyone had missed it. Professor Snape was staring at him levelly taking it in. Snape was about the last person Harry would have showed any weakness to. He expected Snape would be happy to see his distress. But Snape's expression was neutral and his eyes soon turned back to Moody.
Before Harry had time to think about this, people around him were taking their seats as Professor McGonagall ushered in the first year students for the annual ceremony where Godoric Gryffindor's thousand year-old hat would sort them into the appropriate school houses. The houses were named for Gryffindor and the other three founders of Hogwarts: Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. Each house was supposed to contain students who had qualities valued by the founder after whom it was named. His own house was noted for its bravery, Ravenclaw for intellegence, Hufflepuff for hard work and fair play, and Slytherin for ambition. Ambition wasn't the only quality shared by most Slytherins, Harry thought grimly as Alicia Appleby was called forward to put on the sorting hat. Harry could think of a few choice words for the qualities shared by the Slytherins, especially his arch-nemesis Draco Malfoy, but he was determined to enjoy his first night back and so forced his attention away from the sour-faced Slytherins and back to the sorting.
When the sorting was finished, Professor Dumbledore rose for his usual beginning of term notes. Smiling benevolently upon the student body he shared the additions to Filch's notorious list of forbidden items. He gave the usual reminder about the Forbidden Forest being off limits, looking pointedly at the Weasley twins - as usual. As Dumbledore arrived at the point where he usually introduced new professors Ron elbowed Harry, rather unnecessarily, in the ribs. Indeed, Dumbledore gestured down the table as he said,
"Finally, I would like to introduce to you Madam Fleur Delacour who will be assisting the faculty this year." He paused for a polite round of applause that seemed to be more enthusiastic amongst the males in the crowd. Harry knew Delacour was part Veela, a siren creature, and even if she hadn't been, her delicate silver-haired looks would have attracted much male attention.
"I would also like to introduce Madam Isabel Clay who will be a guest at Hogwarts this term. You may expect to see Madam Clay observing some classes and it is our expectation that you show her every respect and courtesy." There was no applause but Dumbledore didn't seem to expect any. For her part, Isabel Clay was looking at her golden plate with color having risen a bit in her cheeks. "Now, to the feast!" Dumbledore said, and the tables magically filled with a sumptuous array of foods to which the students applied themselves enthusiastically.
Indeed, Harry felt his appetite returning as the aroma of the magnificently prepared food reached him. He let most other thoughts leave his mind as he piled his plate with everything he could reach. He had been expected to live mostly on lettuce and celery sticks all summer at his Aunt and Uncle's as his cousin Dudley still bore proportions roughly equivalent to a sea barge. It was wonderful to have as much food as he wanted and Harry enjoyed every bite, managing a second helping of many of the dishes and two fabulous desserts.
Harry felt very full and quite content when Dumbledore rose to lead the assembly in the Hogwarts school song. The students gamely rose to their feet. Most of them enjoyed singing along using any tune they wished. The novelty had obviously worn off for most of the faculty, however, as most rose reluctantly with expressions that were neutral at best. As Dumbledore happily lead off, drawing the lyrics in the air with his wand, both Delacour and Clay started a bit in surprise. But, while Delacour proceeded to knit her brows in a disapproving frown, Clay's face drew into a smile and she was soon laughing. Harry noticed Ginny singing quite earnestly while he and Ron did their best to keep up using whatever tune came to mind with each new line. As usual, it seemed that Fred and George had chosen the most ill-fitting tune they could manage. As the students around him began finishing and leaving off singing Harry began to be able to discern Fred and George's tune. Unless Harry was very much mistaken, they were chanting. In fact, they were doing a rather good job of it, too. As everyone else finished singing the twins enthusiastically continued to raise their voices in solemn cadence. They even threw in a little harmony for good measure as Dumbledore conducted them with his wand. They've been practicing! Harry thought, Leave it to them to do the thing right. When the twins had finally finished with an impressive multi-syllabic "Amen" Dumbledore sent the students off to their dorms and bed.
As Harry rose to join the other students thronging out of the Hall he felt Ron's hand on his arm, "Let's wait for Hermione, shall we?"
"Not much point in that," Harry replied inclining his head toward the other end of the table where Hermione was taking the first year students in hand, "She's got to escort the firsties. Besides, she already gave me the password."
Ron looked a trifle disappointed but brightened up almost immediately.
"Fancy nicking down to the kitchens, then?"
Harry grinned back, "Good idea."
They hung back a bit waiting for the last of the crowd of students to leave so they could slip down the corridors to the kitchens. Before they could, however, Harry felt Hagrid's large hand on his shoulder. He and Ron, who also had a hand on his shoulder, turned to see the smiling face of Hagrid.
"Alrigh' there, boys?" he asked.
"Sure. How about you, Hagrid? How was your summer?" Harry asked. He knew Hagrid had been sent by Dumbledore on a "mission" over the summer and hoped Hagrid might let a hint about it slip.
"Jus' fine, Jus fine. Say, you haven't met Madam Clay have you?" Hagrid said as the person in question had begun to pass them on her way out of the hall. At her name, she stopped and turned to them with a smile.
"Ms. Clay, this is Ron Weasley and this is Harry Potter."
Harry was ready for Isabel's eyes to make the all-too familiar sweep upward to look at the scar on his head. He hated this, but had grown used to it. But, to his surprise she did not. Instead she held out her hand and shook both their hands in turn murmuring "Pleasure to meet you."
"Ms. Clay doesn't know the layout of the castle very well yet. She's stayin' near Gryffindor Tower so how about you let her walk with you?"
Ron caught Harry's eye. Harry saw no choice so he just gave a slight shrug and turned to Hagrid.
"Sure."
"Righ' Good Night, then." Hagrid said and then he was gone.
As Harry and Ron walked out of the hall with Madam Clay Harry noticed McGonagall nodding absentmindedly in their direction.
Madam Clay asked them several questions about their year and their studies on the way up toward the tower and, before they had much time to worry about it, Harry and Ron were bidding her goodnight next to a very large painting that was, indeed, just down the corridor from the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.
When they had given the password and climbed through the hole revealed as the portrait guarding their common room swung forward, they were hit by the sound of a great deal of excited chatter. While Hermione could be seen determinedly shepherding the first year students toward the stairs to their respective dorms, the rest of the Gryffindor students seemed prepared to carry on a bit before going to bed.
"So what's up with that Clay woman?" Ron asked Harry.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, she's English, you can tell from her voice, but she doesn't seem to know anything about Hogwarts. Doesn't that seem strange?"
"Um, well, maybe she went to another school instead." Harry offered uncertainly. "Although," he continued, "She's got to be the first person in something like forever who hasn't gawped at my scar when they met me."
"You think she doesn't know who you are?" Ron asked quizzically.
"Not necessarily. It was just - different."
"Well, she'd have to have gone to school a little farther away than Drumstrang or Beauxbatons not to have heard of you." Ron said with only a faint trace of irritation in his voice, "Maybe she went to Roanoke Academy, you know, in America."
"Ro-a-noke Academy? Is that the American School, then?" Harry said once again feeling as if there was a whole raft of things he, as a wizard raised by muggles, didn't know.
"Sure. It's on the coast near the first English Colonies." Ron said knowledgeably, "Actually, it's kind of a good story. Roanoke is an American Indian word that some early colonists used to name their settlement. I've no idea what it means. But, anyway, between the time they were dropped off and a supply ship returned the next year the whole colony just vanished without a trace." Ron grinned, obviously pleased with Harry's wide-eyed reaction, "The Muggles thought that the Indians must have kidnapped them and carried them all off."
"And they didn't?
"Nope. The Roanoke Settlers were witches and wizards. By the time the supply ship came back they had made the colony disappear... at least to the muggles. It's still there. They started the American School for witchcraft and wizardry there. Of course, it's only been around for something like 300 years but I hear it's pretty good anyway."
"It's alright," said Hermione as she came up behind them, "Certainly it's better than Drumstrang and maybe even Beauxbatons; but it's not as good as Hogwarts."
"According to who?" Ron asked
"Whom," Hermione corrected with a sigh, "It's mentioned in An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe. About two hundred years ago, they managed to lure some of the best Professors from Beauxbatons and Drumstrang and there was quite a bit of bad feeling over it." Hermione explained matter-of-factly.
"How interesting," Ron replied in a tone that made it clear he didn't think it was.
Hermione shot Ron a look and countered, "So, thinking of transferring, then?"
Harry jumped in at this point, explaining why the topic of the American Academy had come up.
"Hmmm. Well, that would explain a lot. Anyway, it probably has something to do with Vol-Vol, er, The Dark Lord."
"Well, we can always ask Hagrid about it tomorrow, I suppose," Harry said. But somehow he figured Hagrid wouldn't have much to tell them.
