Title: Harry Potter and the Days of Thunder

Title: Harry Potter and the Days of Thunder
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, the song "Scar Tissue" belongs to the Red Hot Chilipeppers.
Author's Note: Ah, second chapter! Lovely, lovely. I would like to thank everyone who reviewed, and my lovely betas, Nayru and Me. A special thanks also goes out to reviewer and friend Shkspr, who seem very keen on H/Hr, but nothing has been decided yet.
Sorry Shakes! As always, read and review!
~~*~~

Chapter 2: Scar Tissue

Scar tissue that I wish you saw
Sarcastic Mr. Know-it-all
Close your eyes and I'll kiss you
'Cause with birds I'll share


Due to the fact that many others had had the same idea as the Weasleys and the Grangers, spending the last night of vacation at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry ended up sharing room with Ron that evening. Not that he minded, no, not at all. Quite on the contrary, actually, he enjoyed it. After dinner, the two of them went up to the room, and spent most of the night playing chess and gobstones, bursting into gales of laughter or strings of cursing every time they lost. It wasn't until Ginny, who was staying in the next room, jabbed her fist into the wall and shouted at them to shut up and go to sleep already, that the two of them got ready to get two bed. But just as Harry had fallen asleep, a sharp knock on the door awakened him from his for once dreamless sleep.
Once again, whoever standing outside knocked.
"Ginny, get the door," mumbled Ron sleepily. Harry, who felt like he was tied to the bed, rolled over, and hoped that the knocker would go away.
However, the person outside seemed persistent, and kept on knocking. Then-
"Harry, Ron, you great big prats, it's me!" came Hermione's voice in a loud, urgent, whisper.
Now, Ron got up and opened the door.
" 'Mione?" he yawned. "What's going on?"
As she rushed into the room, Hermione threw a slip of parchment at Harry, who sat up to read it. It was rather small, and seeing as it had glue on one side, he couldn't help but wonder if this was the wizard version of Post-Its. However, the text on it was far more intriguing than the note itself. It was only a few words hastily scribbled down, but those words sent chills down Harry's back: Attack on the Sims eelfarm- no casualties- dark mark. Death Eaters??
Handing Ron the note, Harry looked up at Hermione, who now was pacing around the room, her flyaway hair giving her a wild look.
"How-"
"Mum and I went out for a walk about an hour ago. We decided to walk down Diagon Alley to Gringotts, and Leg. Alley up again."
"Leg. Alley?" asked Harry.
"Legacy Alley," said Ron, "that's where all the wizard law firms and most of the publishing houses are, including the one that distributes the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly. It's between Knockturn and Diagon Alley."
"ANYWAY," said Hermione, annoyed that she had been interrupted, "since we were passing by the Prophet headquarters anyway, I thought that I would stop by and sign up for having the Prophet sent to me." Here she stopped for a moment. "But when we entered the reception hall, people were flying everywhere, stressed out of their minds, talking about attacks and Death Eaters. Seeing as I didn't want Mum to freak out totally, I shooed her out of there at once. But just as we left, this," she pointed at the slip of parchment, "came flying into my face."
"Oh man," said Ron, " this is the fourth-" Upon seeing the looks on Hermione and Harry's faces, he slowed down "- the fourth card in a new game from Zonkos," he finished.
"Ron- even Neville is a better liar than you," said Hermione glumly. "Now, what fourth thing is this?"
Ron sighed.
"Okay- Mum made me promise not to tell you this, but it's been like this all summer. People's been disappearing and re-appearing with no recollection of what happened to them, houses and buildings have been attacked, and the Dark Mark keep on popping up everywhere. This is the fourth attack this month. But the strange thing is-" here, he lowered his voice to a whisper, "no-one's been hurt."
"No one?" asked Harry.
"No one."
All three of them fell silent, and it wasn't until Hermione got up and said that she had to go, that any of them moved. She hugged both the boys goodnight, and disappeared out the door.
"I guess..." said Harry darkly.
"You guess what?" asked Ron.
"I guess that this means that the shit has hit the fan."
Ron stared at him for a moment, then turned off the lights as they climbed into their beds.
"Good night Harry."
"Good night, Ron."
And soon, Harry could hear Ron's snoring through the darkness. However, he didn't fall asleep himself until many hours later, and when he did, it was only to fall into a dark dream.
***

On the morning of Monday the 1. of September, it was a warm, but clouded day.
The Leaky Cauldron was packed with nervous parents and Hogwarts students, and according to a wizard who just had come in from the muggle part of London, the entire left side of Charing Cross Road was jammed with taxis waiting for the strange passengers to get all their animals, broomsticks and exploding fireworks into the trunks of the cars.
As the whole lot of Weasleys and Grangers finally got out on the street, Mrs. Weasley shot a glance at her watch, and exclaimed that there was no way they were going to make it in time if they had to wait for enough cabs to come to get them all to King's Cross.
Luckily enough, Mrs. Granger, who apparently had been reading up on the magical world during the summer, suggested that she would take Harry, Ron and the girls, plus the luggage (which now consisted of nine trunks and suitcases, three broomsticks, five handbags, three owls, one cat and a kitten) in the Grangermobile, so that Mrs. Weasley and the twins could floo to the station.

Of course, if everything had followed the plan, everything would have run smoothly, and they would have arrived at King's Cross with loads of time to spare. But of course, nothing did go after the plan. For starters, Helena insisted on having her new kitten, Ebony (which oddly enough was pure white), with her, and not in her basket. Of course, as soon as they opened the basket, the kitten ran for it- straight down the street, and it took both Harry, Ron, and Ginny to catch it.
Then, as they tried to put the kitten back into it's basket, Crookshanks threw a fit, and made the basket he was in wobble so much that Hermione's handbag, that was on top of it, fall down into the street, spilling the contents out (and of course, Ron, being the ignorant macho he was, had to pick up a tampon and ask what it was, making both Hermione and Ginny blush like tomatoes).
When they finally got into the car and started driving, Mrs. Granger drove the wrong way not only once, but twice, the first time not noticing it until they were halfway out of London. But after much ado, they finally arrived at King's Cross, with only a few minutes to spare.
After much hugging and kissing (and even some tears on Mrs. Granger's behalf) they finally bordered the train. When they finally got on the train, they quickly split up: The twins took off with Hecate on their tail, while Ginny hurried to the other end of the train, trying to find some of her friends. Helena and Hero had sat down in the first compartment they saw, which was packed with other nervous-looking firstyears.
"Express seems incredibly crowded this year," observed Ron as they pushed their way through the packed corridors of the train.
"It's because of the boom," said Hermione rationally.
"The what?"
"The baby boom."
"Yes, of course, everybody knows what that is," mocked Ron.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"During the last half of the 1970's and the early 80's, when Voldemort was in power, there were born less children into magical families than normal. And so, after the downfall of the Death Eaters, there was a baby boom in the magical society."
Ron shook his head in exasperation.
"Hermione- where do you learn all this things?"
"In a very special place. It's really hard to get there, and you have to have a special membership card to get access to all the knowledge that is stored there. Do you know what this special place is called, Ron?"
"Erm...Narnia?"
"It's called the library. Honestly, you should pay more attention."
"Why?" said Ron irritably.
"Because you just passed by a perfectly nice and empty compartment." She swung the compartment door open, and gestured towards it. "Get in, you manly men."
***

The train journey was fairly uneventful. Both Hermione and Ron were fairly keen on talking about the attack on the Diggorys (Hermione had found a copy lying around the Leaky Cauldron before they left), but Harry didn't muster up enough attention to follow the two of them, and quickly fell asleep.
~~*~~

The full moon shone down on him.
He was standing on top of a hill, looking down.
On the ground beneath him there were dragons- dozens of dragons, black ones, ridge-backed.
"Like Norbert," he whispered.
The largest one of all rose up on its back legs, and roared, spitting balls of fire into the night.
"Quite an impressive sight, don't you think? They make good pets. Nice and deadly" said a voice from behind him.
Harry turned, and found himself face to face with a green eyed, auburn-haired girl. Even though he couldn't remember from where, he had a feeling that he had met her before, if nowhere else than in a dream. She was smiling viciously, and he couldn't help but notice that her corner teeth were oddly pointed, almost like fangs.
"What did you say?" he asked
She leaned in towards him, her face only inches from his.
"I said-"
"Wake up young man!"
Harry sat bolt up. The owner of the sharp voice that had woken him up, a surly-looking witch, stared at him. Harry looked around, only to see that both Hermione and Ron were gone.
"Eherm," said the witch.
"Yes?"
"Your ticket, please?"
Harry fumbled around in his pockets, and after a few tries, he found it, all curled up.
The witch snorted, and took out a large list.
"Name?"
"Harry James Potter."
As the witch looked down her list, Hermione and Ron came back into the compartment, their arms loaded with sweets.
"Hey, who're you?" asked Ron as they sat down. The surly witch scowled at him.
"I'm the conductor. Tickets?"
The two of them gave her the tickets, and she looked down her list.
"Names and houses?"
"Ron Weasley, Gryffindor."
The witch trailed her quill down the list.
"Weasley, Ronald?"
Ron nodded, and the witch crossed him off, muttering something about juvenile delinquents who didn't say their real names.
She turned towards Hermione.
"And you?"
"Hermione Granger, Gryffindor."
The witch looked even more disgruntled as she looked down the list this time.
"Granger, Hermione Lo-" she started, but Hermione hastily interrupted her.
"Yes, that's me."

As the conductorwitch left, Ron turned to Hermione.
"You have a middle name?"
Hermione nodded. "An embarrassing one, to that."
"What is it?" asked Harry.
"Like I'm going to tell the two of you." She blushed. "Now- conductors on the Hogwarts Express? When did that happen?"
"It's because of You-Know-Who, I heard Dad talk about it this summer. It's 'to ensure the safety of all the students during the trip."
Hermione giggled.
"Thanks for the information, Percy."
Ron's ears went red, and just to annoy Hermione, he began humming the tune of 'Row your boat', while muttering names under his breath.
"Lori, Louise, Lolo, Lorraine, Logan, Lourdes, Lovinda..."
"Not funny."
Ron smirked.
"It's Lovinda, right?"
"Oh, shut up, Ron!"
***

The rest of the day passed without any other major interruptions, and it was rather late before they next heard footsteps from the corridor. The compartment door slid open, and in came-
"Hi Harry!"
Harry looked up from the game of chess he was playing with Hermione, and groaned inwardly as he recognised the speaker.
"Hello, Colin."
No one could really blame Harry for reacting the way he did. It wasn't that Colin wasn't nice, it was just the fact that he always followed Harry around, that got annoying in the long run.
Please no photos, please no photos, thought Harry as Hermione and Ron greeted the fourthyear.
"You haven't seen Malfoy around, have you?"
"Malfoy?"
"Yes, he took my camera, and I'd like to have it back."
'Thank god', mouthed Ron behind Colin's back. Harry nodded.
Hermione, throwing the boys a dirty look, shook her head.
"No, sorry Colin, but I'll get it back for you when I see him." She sighed. "Really, of all things- I'd never have thought Malfoy ended up as a thief. A liar or a murderer, perhaps, but not a thief."
Colin shrugged.
"It's not really important. It was just an old black-and-white camera, I bought it on a flea market yesterday, haven't even tried it yet. Well- see you!"
Ron sighed in relief, as he disappeared out the door.
"A guy who goes around buying cameras- what a nut case."
Hermione tutted.
"And that comes from the wizard whose father collects plugs."
But before Ron managed to come up with a witty comeback, the train slowed down, and came to a halt.
***

As the three of them stepped out on the platform, hot, damp air welled up against them. The sky held no stars this evening, and Harry could see dark, heavy clouds floating high over them. The air seemed to press against the students as they walked towards the horseless carriages, and Harry halfway expected a thunderstorm to break out at any second.
There was tension in the air: the anxiety of the new students blended with the unspoken unease that filled the students that had witnessed the Third Task last year, and it was a sinister crowd that moved towards the horseless carriages.
Harry could hear Hagrid's booming voice from far away, and only just registered the Granger triplets as they passed by him, accompanied with a giggling brunette that very much resembled Alicia Spinnet, his team-mate on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
"- just a tattoo! Honestly, why this curiosity?" said a voice from behind Harry. He stopped for a brief second, and shot a glance over his shoulder, only to see Draco Malfoy standing only a few metres away, speaking to one of the Slytherin girls. Even from a distance, Harry could see that he had grown several inches during the summer, and making him look thinner than ever. And with his pale skin added to that, he looked like he was carved in ice. The girl, on the other hand, was his direct opposite, with dark brown hair and eyes, and a healthy tan. She smirked as she replied.
"I want to see it, Malfoy! Now, roll up that sleeve and show it!"
Harry furrowed his eyebrows. Tattoo up Malfoy's sleeve? It couldn't possibly be-
"Harry?"
His head snapped back. Hermione smiled worriedly at him.
"What are you looking at? Malfoy? Never knew blondes were your style."
Harry frowned. "Funny, Granger. Actually," he lied, "I'm trying to remember that girl's name."
Hermione shot the girl a look, and clucked approvingly.
"That's Torrance Nott. She's in my arithmancy class. Very Slytherin, very wise-assed, but most of all; very smart. Now," she said, gesturing towards the carriages, "let's get going, shall we?"

The two of them joined Ron, and crammed into a nearby carriage, where several secondyear girls already had taken place. Much to Harry's delight, the four girls, whose chattering had been so loud that it had carried over the whole station, shut their mouth as he got into the wagon.
While they previously had been sitting scampered on the seats, they now squeezed together in one, eyeing Harry, Hermione, and Ron nervously.
Hermione, who was sitting in between the two boys, leaned over.
"Talk about nervous kids. Were we THAT afraid of our seniors when we were secondyears?" she whispered, so close to his ear that he practically could feel her lips move.
"No, we were afraid of getting eaten by Basilisks," he whispered back. "I think it's me they're afraid of. You know- Rita Skeeter and all that."
"They should know better," Hermione sighed, and slumped her head against his shoulder, in an unexpected act of intimacy.
Harry turned his head and look at Ron, who was staring intently out of the window, his neck very red.
"Oh my god," murmured Hermione.
Harry looked down at her, and at the same time, her head snapped back up, and their respective chin and backhead bumped together with a thud.
Wincing, Harry clutched his chin. Hermione didn't seem to notice the nasty bump forming in the back of her head, instead, she had kneeled to the floor of the carriage, frantically rummaging through the Burberry- patterned bag she usually used to carry her books in, repeating 'Oh my god'. The poor, horrified-looking secondyears drew their legs up in the seat, away from her.
Ron turned his attention away from the window, and looked at her, apparently amused.
"What's the matter, Hermione?"
Hermione looked up, and answered in a dismissive tone.
"Nothing Ron, I just thought I'd forgotten something very important at home."
"Like what- a letter from Victor?"
Hermione shot him a look that on the Potter scale of curses ranked somewhere between spontaneous combustion-hex and the unforgivables.
"No- that horrible bug Skeeter!"
"What about her?"
"I kept her over the summer, and was planning on letting her out on Diagon Alley."
Ron gasped.
"You didn't!"
Hermione nodded frantically, now holding a jar containing several plants and a single bug- Rita Skeeter.
The carriage had now stopped, and they picked up their bags and got out.
While the secondyears hurried up the steps to the Entrance Hall, Hermione stepped a little to the side for the carriages, and held the glass jar up. Ron and Harry followed.
"So," said Hermione, her face propped against the glass, "I hope you've learned your lesson, Rita."
"Yes," said Ron wannabe-wisely, "never to break the law."
Hermione ignored him, and continued looking into the glass.
"Never, ever mess with Hermione Granger again. Oui?" she whispered in a deadly tone of voice, before un-screwing the jar.
As the bug took off into the night, she waved, half-heartedly yelling 'sorry!' after it.
"You know, Hermione, you have a mean streak, you do," remarked Ron as they walked into the Entrance Hall.
"I know," she answered while fastening her prefect's badge, "trust me Ron, I do know."
***

Even though they were among the last people that filed into the Great Hall, several free seats opened up as they sat down at the Gryffindor Table.
Painfully aware of the fact that people were whispering and pointing at him, Harry stared straight ahead, at the High Table.
Dumbledore was always sitting at the top of the table, flanked by Flitwick and the empty seat belonging to McGonagall. A small black witch that Harry recognised as Hermione's arithmancy teacher, professor, Vector was talking to an elderly-looking man whose face he couldn't see. Seeing as he didn't know any old, respectable looking professors at Hogwarts (Dumbledore no withstanding, of course), Harry guessed that he was the new Defence against Dark Arts teacher. Judging from the conversations he heard along the Gryffindor table, he wasn't the only one who had drawn this conclusion. He turned to ask Ron what he thought, but stopped the wooden doors opened.
In came Hagrid, carrying a three-legged stool and the Sorting Hat. He sat the stool down in front of the High Table, and placed the Hat on top of it.
As soon as he had taken his place between sour, scowling, professor Snape and the ghostly Binns, the door once more opened, revealing professor McGonagall. She was leading what (to Harry) seemed like an unchristly amount of first years. The lot of them walked up between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff's tables, and came to a halt in front of the Sorting Hat.
For a moment, all was quiet, but then, the Hat's brim started to move.

I bid good day to you one and all,
Now don't be surprised, don't take a fall!
I may be a hat, but talk also,
But now, without much further ado,
Let me present you the founders four,
Who gave names to our houses forevermore:
First came Rowena, smart as few,
Knowledge never bid her 'adieu'
You could never her book from her sever
Which is why her pupils are wise and clever!
The second one to join was the sly Slytherin
Are you ambitious and shrewd you're his next of kin.
But do beware! In the house of the Snake
They only take the real thing, and never the fake!
The third one to follow was Gryffindor himself
Whose proud head I once used as a shelf.
This daring Scotsman was a brave old fellow
Loyal and noble, and never mellow.
Our last proud founder was merry Hufflepuff
Of hardworking pupils her house never get enough
If you are friendly and easy to trust
You will find your friends in those Hufflepuffs just.
But now, let me you into a house sort,
To be your residence at Hogwarts, the honourable fort.
So put me on you head
Do not fear or dread
I've never been wrong yet;
So now, let me tell you were your future's set!

As the students applauded the sorting song, McGonagall took out her list of names, and gave the instructions to the First Years, before calling out the first name.
"Bode, Salomon."
A small boy with black hair strode forward, but as he put on the Hat, Harry could see that his hands were trembling. He felt sympathetic for him; he remembered very well his own fear at the Sorting Ceremony, and when the hat called out 'Ravenclaw!', he was among the ones that clapped the hardest.
After a little while, 'Bunton, Victoria' became the first Gryffindor, and was heartily greeted by Dennis Creevey and his friends.
The sorting continued- C, D, E, F- and finally, 'G'.
During the whole ceremony, the Hall been filled with the sound of low conversation, but as McGonagall called out the name 'Granger, Hecate' the noise rose to a new level.
Despite the anticipating looks and frantic whispering around her, Hecate seemed to take everything very calmly, and simply strolled up and put the hat on, beaming at everybody around her.
She didn't have to wait long for response: almost immediately, the hat shouted:
"Gryffindor!"
The cheering was above any other, and as Hecate skipped down to the Gryffindor table, the twins budged up and made room for her between the two of them.
"If you are quite finished-" said McGonagall sharply, before continuing on her list.
"Granger, Helena!"
As she made her way up to the hat, Helena seemed much less at ease with the staring than her sister.
Hermione leaned over to Harry.
"Poor thing, she hates attention. Now, Hecate on the other hand-" she said glumly, throwing glances at Hecate, who was having a mock-boxing fight with Fred Weasley. The two of them seemed to notice her gaze, because they immedliaty stopped joking and looked up, just in time to see Helena's face light up with the biggest smile as the hat announced that she was now a
"Ravenclaw!"
The blue table greeted her just as loudly as the red one had greeted Hecate, but this time, only a look from McGonagall was enough to make them calm down. However, it was only for a short time, because as she read Hero's name, the hall once more exploded in whispers. Harry picked up only short brocks of conversations, like Hecate whispering 'that's my sister', and Millicent Bullstrode's 'there's another one?'.
Unlike her sisters, she didn't show any emotions as she put the hat on. Not glowing anticipation, nor trembling anxiousness, only calm resignation.
And then, only a short moment after she sat down, the hat's brim opened.
"Slytherin!"
And at that moment, the Great Hall froze. Not a single word escaped a single lip, and the sound of Pansy Parkinson's fork hitting the floor seemed to bellow through the room.
Then- Hermione began clapping. The hall seemed to move again, and she was joined by both Helena and Hecate, and most of the teachers. Slowly, others began to pick up on the trail that Hermione had started, and through the corner of his eye, Harry could see that even Draco Malfoy was making an effort of applauding and looking, if not friendly, then at least not openly hostile.

The sorting continued, and even though Harry stopped counting after 'Spinnet, Cher' became a Ravenclaw, he estimated that there were more than 100 students this year.
But finally, when the Sorting Hat announced that 'Xantippe, Plato' was a Ravenclaw, the sorting ended. While McGonagall put the hat and three-legged chair away, Dumbledore stood up, and motioned for the students to calm down.
Like always, his mere presence demanded respect, and although he looked very old and tired, Harry couldn't help but feel much more calm now than he had been all summer. Upon seeing some of the looks on the other students' faces, he guessed that he wasn't the only one.
Dumbledore smiled warmly at them.
"Welcome," he said, "to another school year here at Hogwarts."
He stopped for a moment, perhaps to create dramatic effect, perhaps to think.
"It is my pleasure as Headmaster, to greet new and old students to our castle, for what I hope will be a school year not entirely filled with homework and old dingbats like me, but also quidditch, fun and friendship. But- it is also my duty to remind you of the events that took place last year, and the impact it had on us all.
As you may all know, Hogwarts lost a student last year- a bright young man, the very embodiment of his house, and perhaps one of the most noble champions ever to represent this school."
He looked around, and for a brief moment, his gaze lingered on a black-haired girl at the Ravenclaw table- Cho Chang.
"Cedrik Diggory's death must never be forgotten, because his fate might had been anyone in this room's. But we must also continue our lives."
He cleared his throat once more.
"Because of the circumstances around the events of last term, our Defence Against Dark Arts teacher, Alastor Moody, have chosen not to keep his teaching position here at Hogwarts. However, we have this year someone equally, if not more experienced, teaching. Let me present you the new teacher- please welcome Mundungus Fletcher!"
The man next to Vector stood up, and Harry almost choked when he recognised the name.
"Ron- isn't that the wizard that tried to hex your dad two years ago?"
The red-head shrugged.
"I dunno- could be him. But then again, Dad get hexed a lot."
Seeing the look on Harry's face, he added "It comes with the job- he does work with ridding the world of weird people's charmed things. And honestly- if you were a strange, old man and a red-headed, even stranger wizard came and took your favourite hexed teacup- wouldn't you be mad?"
Harry grinned, before looking back at the High Table. Fletcher had now sat down again, and Dumbledore continued his speech.
"I am sure professor Fletcher will be at use for our school."
"Get on with it, man! I'm starved!" someone behind Harry bellowed. Recognising the voice, Harry didn't have to turn to know that it was Seamus, one of his own classmates.
Dumbledore smiled.
"I'm afraid I will have to take up your valuable eating time for a few more minutes, Mr. Finnigan, but I can assure you that the info I'm about to give most certainly will interest you. As many of you may know, until a few years ago, our honoured school participated in the Merlin Exchange Program, which exchanged students between different countries. But, after several unfortunate incidents involving some Brazilian students in 1982, the school board decided that Hogwarts was to end its part in the program. However, the time has now come for our school to once again enter the program. And not only will our fourth years get penfriends in another country, but all our fifth years will also be offered the possibility of spending 7 months of this school year at the Mjolngard School of Sorcery in Scandinavia.
In this very moment, owls carrying informative letters are being sent out to your parents and guardians, and seeing as the departure will be already on the First of October, I urge each and every fifth year to write home and ask for permission to go."
Contrasting the loud whispers that had sounded through the Hall only minutes ago, the silence was now total.
"Well," said Dumbledore, "the only thing left to say now, is bon apetite!" The gold plates filled up with food, but no one ate anything, they just stared at Dumbledore.
The old headmaster chuckled.
"Not so hungry anymore, Mr. Finnegan? I believe our house-elves will be very displeased if their lovely food goes untouched. And we don't want berserk house-elves now, do we?"
"N-no sir, said Seamus nervously. "Dean- pass me the kidney-pie, will you?"
***

Seeing as he was starved, Harry ignored all attempts from his classmates to strike up conversations, and wolfed down anything that touched his plate. As his hunger slowly dispersed, he looked around the Hall.
His eyes stopped at the Ravenclaw table, where Mandy Brocklehurst and Terry Boot was setting on a public display by snogging heavily almost on top of the table. Harry couldn't help but chuckle as he met Cho Chang's gaze. She too had been following the couple's antics, an when Harry raised his eyebrow, she mouthed 'Got air?', and pointed at the two of them. For a split second, he thought about raising his goblet in a silent salute, but a dirty look from Sarah Fawcett (who apart from being one of Cho's best friends, also had been Cedrik's cousin) stopped him. Seeing as several of the other Ravenclaw girls now were scowling at him too, Harry found it best to focus on something else than the black-haired girl.
Fortunately enough, diversion came in the form of a loud Irishman- Seamus had once again attracted the attention of the room with a loud comment about the food (this time about the Freudian symbolic within a sausage).
"Honestly," said Hermione, "by the way he's tittering on, you'd think he was drunk!"
Lavender, who was sitting next to her, grinned. "He is, Hermione, he is!"
"What?"
The blonde nodded.
"He's got a bottle of brandy inside his robe, been gulping from it since Norfolk."
"That's against school regulations!"
Lavender shrugged.
"I know, I know- Parvati's been pointing it out every ten minutes since he started drinking, but you know-"
"Men!" they both concluded, followed by heavy sighs. However, Lavender quickly perked up.
"But then again," she said, throwing Seamus a yearning look, "it does have its upside, having someone that cute, that drunk."
Hermione shot her an alarmed look.
"You wouldn't... I mean, that's just evil!"
"I know."
"But Lava, you do know that-"
Whatever it was Hermione was about to say, Lavender didn't catch it, seeing as she at that point stood up, and walked down to Seamus. As she sat down next to him, she put her arms around him, receiving a drunken kiss on the cheek as thanks.
Hermione shook her head.
"You know, we really SHOULD report him, after all, that is our job as prefects after all."
"But we won't, right?"
Hermione smiled at him.
"Not tonight. I have too much on my mind for that- when all comes too, who could ever see this coming!"
Harry nodded.
"Very unexpected, yes."
"What really worries me is the situation- with the dark lord rising and all, why would Dumbledore send us away from Hogwarts? And our year- with you?"
Harry swallowed and forced a grin.
"Don't worry 'bout it, Hermione. The Dursleys probably won't let me go anyway."
"Well if you're not going, we're not going either. Right, Ron?" she said to their red-headed friend.
Ron, who was still eating, shook his head.
"I dunno- I mean, Scandinavia's bloody cold, right? Might get that chance to push Malfoy off a glacier after all!" he said, spluttering food and spit everywhere.
"Why, thanks for the shower, Ron," Hermione said dryly, dusting breadcrumbs off her robe. "But there's another thing that bothers me too-"
"What, the rod up your romp?"
"Ha-ha, very funny. But, if you don't want hear it, and so on." She looked down at the table, and seeing as Ron was staring out into eternity where her head had been, Harry felt it necessary to change the subject.
"So- your sister, a Slytherin. Very...strange."
Hermione shrugged.
"Not really, she's always been very determined." Silence. "Plus, I dropped her on her head when she was little."
Ron stifled a laugh.
"Good one, Hermione."
"It wasn't a joke," she said shortly. "But excuse me, I have some business to settle with the Head Boy."
As they watched her walk across the hall, to the Hufflepuff table, Harry chuckled.
"Smooth, oh running weasel."
"I knooow," said Ron, and banged his head into the table. "I'm stupid, stupid, STUPID!"
"Can't disagree with you on that one, Weasley!" bellowed Malfoy, who apparently had overheard him.
"Well," said Harry to Ron, "it could be worse. You could be as stupid him."
Ron nodded, looking down in his food.
"Got a point there," he said quietly, before looking up at Harry.
The two of them collapsed in laughter, but quickly silenced as Dumbledore once again stood up to speak.
"To eat, or not to eat, that SHOULD be the question, and I sincerely hope the lot of you have chosen the first. But now, the time draws near for us all to find our beds, and a good night's sleep. The only thing that is left to do, is to sing our beloved school song."
As always, everyone in the entire Hall sung the song on a different tune, and after four years of practice, Harry didn't even have to look up at the golden letters issuing from Dumbledore's wand while singing.
Like always, everybody finished differently, but this time, the Weasley twins (who had made it a tradition of finishing last) had to see themselves beat by a girl whose soprano voice twisted and twirled the words into a velvet band that surrounded the entire hall. Through the crowd of students, Harry couldn't see the originator of the voice, but as the last tone faded out in the silence, he hoped that someone would compliment her later.
"And with that," Dumbledore smiled, "I declare the new school year opened. But now; let's to our beds, all and one."

Like everyone else, Harry stood up to walk to the dorms, but quickly sat down again as Ron violently tugged his sleeve.
"What?" he said irritably.
"We've got to wait for Hermione, she hasn't come back from that 'head boy business' yet."
"Why? She can find her way back herself. I'm tired!"
Ron shot him a pleading look.
"Stay, please? It'll look weird if I wait for her all by myself. Please?"
Harry sighed, and nodded.
"Okay," he said, "but just for the record, you owe me one."
Gradually, the Hall became emptier as the students filed out, and as Cho Chang passed by, she flashed him a brilliant smile that made Harry blush and realise exactly what made Ron wait for Hermione.
But as the minutes and students went by, it became clear that Hermione was no longer in the Hall, and it wasn't until they were halfway through the entrance hall they once again heard her voice.
"Can't believe the three of you, all different houses!"
Ron and Harry followed her voice, and found her standing next to the marble staircase with her sisters.
Helena smirked as they joined them, and Hero coughed something that sounded remarkably like 'loverboy'.
Ron shot her a nasty look.
"Shut up, Slytherin."
She cocked her head in response.
"Do I sense a discriminating attitude based on houses here?"
Hermione laughed.
"That's the inter-house rivalry in a nutshell, Hero. Better get used to it now than later."
"For once, I agree with you, Granger, and that is not a pleasant experience. All offence intended."
They turned, and found themselves face to face with Draco Malfoy.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" snarled Ron, reaching for his wand.
The pale slytherin's lip curled. "Except telling mini-Granger she better move along with her classmates, nothing."
Ron scowled at him. "What do you care anyway?"
Malfoy straightened his robes, and Harry caught sight of a silvery prefect's badge among the folds.
"I do care, Weasel, because unlike you friends, I take my responsibilities seriously."
Hermione strode forward, almost into the Slytherin.
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
Malfoy, who had grown during the summer, looked down at her.
"Just that it is the fifth year prefects' jobs to get the newly sorted to the common room. I'd really expect you to know that."
"Of course I know!" she spluttered.
"Really?" said Malfoy. "Then where are your firstyears?"
Hermione's jaw dropped as she looked around, up the staircase, and then back at Malfoy, speechless.
He smirked.
"That's what I thought." He nudged Hero in the side, his hands carefully covered by the sleeves of his robes. "Now come along here, Mini-Granger, we don't have all night."
As he strode down towards the dungeons with Hero racing behind him, Hermione grabbed Harry's robe, and dragged him up the staircase, telling him that they had to find the first years.
"Take it easy, Hermione," Ron laughed from behind them.
Hermione snorted, and said "Ron Weasley, you are unbelievable!", something that made Ron hurry up considerably.

Despite her short legs (unlike both Harry and Malfoy, she was still gnome-sized, and had limbs thereafter), it was amazing how swiftly she moved down the corridors and up the stairs, and Ron and Harry had to run to keep up with her.
They were almost at the portrait hole when they caught up with the first years, and Hermione rushed past them.
"Excuse me," she said loudly, "let me through, I'm a prefect! Who is it tha-oh!"
Both Harry and Ron followed, and their surprise was big when they, like Hermione, saw that the prefect that had been leading the young ones was Neville.
"Neville!" exclaimed Ron. "They made YOU prefect?"
Neville, who obviously decided to ignore the dubious tone in Ron's voice, simply smiled.
"Yeah, I think professor Sprout put in a good word or two for me."
"Good for you!" said Hermione. "Now, let's get this show on the road, shall we?"
~~*~~

Together, Harry, Hermione and Neville (with the help of Ron's tall and for a first year, intimidating statue) managed to get the firstyears to the common room, and as the last student disappeared through the door to the girl's dorms, the boys said 'night' to Hermione (who insisted on giving all three of them a goodnight-hug each), and walked up the stairs to their dormitory.
There, Dean Thomas was packing out, while Seamus was mysteriously missing.
"'Evening," Dean said as they entered.
"To you too," Neville replied. "Where's Seamus?"
Dean shrugged.
"Disappeared. With Lavender." He said the last with a surprising tone of bitterness in his voice.
"And his brandy," said Ron. "Let's not forget the brandy."
Dean just grunted in response, and said something that sounded remarkably like 'slut' as he put out the light.
Only minutes or so after they had all gone to bed, the door to the stairs swung open, and in came Seamus.
"Isch everybody happy?" he yelled, a noticeable slur to his voice.
Harry rolled over, and tried to ignore the light streaming in through the open door.
"Isch everybody happy?" Seamus repeated, and started singing what sounded like 'we will rock you'.
Neville, who obviously had received a bit of spine with his prefect's badge, sat up.
"Go to bed, Seamus," he said soberly.
This shut up him up, and close the door. Harry could hear him walking across the floor, cursing lightly as he walked into furniture. The noise he made was impossible to block out, but as Harry heard the blankets being ruffled in another bed, he resumed what he had been trying before: to get a good night's sleep.
However, only seconds later, Neville's voice once more rang out.
"Your own bed, Seamus. Not mine."
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