Chapter 3: Homeward to Hogwarts
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everyone in this story except Ilana Wogny. Kat Nott is my character, but I can't take full credit for her because careful readers of the first book know that Mr. Nott has a kid at school. I hope she turns out to be more than just my excuse to get Draco a decent girlfriend, but I don't know; I haven't written the story yet.
Draco Malfoy casually leaned against the wall of the station with the smoke of the Hogwarts Express curling overhead. His parents were mingling with important people as though they were at one of their summer parties. Draco was currently watching the people who entered Platform 9 3/4, and having about as much fun as he had experienced over the summer at the planned social affairs with his parents. The barrier was breached again and Draco's eyes flicked automatically to the two figures that had just meandered through the wrought iron gate. It was Edwin Nott and his daughter Kat. Kat's eyes traveled slowly over the crowd. They rested on Draco, and he glanced away briefly. Kat was a quiet, unnerving person, and her dark, glassy eyes were a main factor in the disconcerting manner about her.
"Something definitely strange about her," Mr. Nott was commenting to his daughter.
"I'm sure she's just tired. She's got to be quite an actress to have convinced Dumbledore's lot of her loyalty," Kat replied.
"True," her father agreed, "And she doesn't seem the type to turn traitor. Do you want me to wait with you until the train leaves?"
"It doesn't matter either way," came the girl's phlegmatic response.
"I'm off to speak with Lucius, then. Why don't you go converse with the younger Mr. Malfoy, how's that?" Nott suggested as he strode off.
"Sounds lovely, Daddy," she told her father's departing back, the enthusiasm in her voice dead before it could live. Kat pushed her cart toward Draco, her face showing boredom and resignation.
"Would the upright and noble 'younger Mr. Malfoy' deign to talk, or is my father too lowly a Death Eater?" Kat said in her quiet mockery.
"I'm sure allowances can be made," Draco drawled. "Who were you and your lowly father discussing?"
"Ilana Wogny. Did you see her on the Muggle side of the barrier?"
"Wasn't paying attention," Draco said glancing around the platform again.
"You'll know that she's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. Apparently she out there keeping the students safe from the Dark Lord and his followers." Kat smiled sardonically as though it was a joke.
"Do you think Dumbledore doesn't know she was nearly a Death Eater?" Draco nobly managed to bring his attention back to the conversation. "I mean, he may think that family doesn't matter, but with an ancestry peppered with Slytherins and Dark Wizards, well, you'd have to be blind to ignore it. She's always been pretending to be Dumbledore's pet, but where her loyalties lie is obvious." Draco snorted.
"She was related to Grindelwald not too obscurely, wasn't she?" said Kat.
"Best friends with Almeda Lestrange." Kat wasn't the only one with extensive knowledge that wasn't technically her business.
"Yes," Kat acknowledged. "But then, so was Lily Potter."
"Was she really?" Draco smiled. "I know Wogny and her friends used to tease my father back when they were at Hogwarts, but he's never mentioned Lily Potter."
"Well-kept secret." Kat was impressed that there were any secrets kept well enough that Draco didn't know of them. Both of them had heard so many stories at home that they had encyclopedic knowledge of everyone who was anyone in the wizard world.
"Mrs. Potter was just a Mudblood, so I can see why my father wouldn't want to talk about any connections he had with her kind."
"You know, the Parkinson's can't trace their name back to a time when they weren't wizards," Pansy Parkinson cut in, causing both Draco and Kat to jump. "Draco, a word?" she said, though her inflection lacked any question qualities.
Draco turned to see what Kat's reaction was, but she was already gone, pulling her trunk into the train. She had left Draco to be berated by his jealous girlfriend. Draco tried to pretend to listen to what Pansy was saying, but her droning made even pseudo-focus difficult. He knew perfectly well how pure her lineage was; that was why he had been instructed to treat her the way he did. But Draco was too similar to the father who had raised him. He didn't want to have to endure the egregious sin of being bored when he didn't devise the plan that required it. Pansy had been becoming entirely dull lately. He didn't really care if she was "pure". His father could date Pansy if she was so good a catch. He knew that if they ever considered marriage, it would be because the Parkinson's needed the Malfoys, and not the other way around.
Abruptly, so she wouldn't grab his arm or anything equally degrading, Draco turned away from Pansy and began loading his own trunk on to the train, Pansy hissing annoyingly at him to come back.
* * *
As the Weasleys entered the station, they saw a young woman who had obviously planted herself at the barrier leading to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. She wore a grey shirt with blue lettering that said "Order of Merlin" over her robe, which made her look like a Muggle woman in a skirt.
"Oh, lovely," said Mrs. Weasley seeing her, "That's a relief."
"What's a relief? That the woman over there is going to give everything away?" Ron asked.
"The Muggles will just think that she's a fantasy fanatic," said George.
"Yeah, there are loads of weirdos in London- I bet she blends right in," said Fred.
"Do they give you a T-shirt when you achieve Order of Merlin?" asked Harry, frowning. Ginny laughed.
"Of course not. She probably charmed it herself."
"Mrs. Weasley." The witch had spotted them and smiled in acknowledgment.
"Did Dumbledore send you as an escort?" Mrs. Weasley asked. The young woman nodded.
"All right, Mr. Potter?" She asked it with concern, but not warmly or as though they were long lost friends, as many adults liked to do when first introduced to Harry.
Harry was sick of people worrying about him, but he nodded. Like most people, that first thing her eyes flew to was his scar. She shut her eyes in mental reproach, and then turned back to Mrs. Weasley.
"Any trouble getting here?" she asked.
"Nothing more than the traffic-" Mrs. Weasley stopped when a large man a bit older than the woman in the Order of Merlin shirt came up and put an arm around the woman's shoulder.
"Ilana, what would you be doing out here all alone? I've heard that Muggle men can be quite dangerous. We wouldn't want anything to happen to you." His eyes slid casually to the Weasleys, and it seemed like they intended to slide their way right on back to the woman, but then the man saw Harry. The man was the same one who had driven Harry to the Weasleys. He looked angry to see Harry, and this emotion increased when the woman said:
"If I can't defend myself from Muggles, Mr. Goyle, then what am I doing teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts to students this year? I shouldn't want your son not to be able to protect himself from Dark wizards. Oh, look. Is that your wife?" Mr. Goyle didn't even bother to strain his neck in the direction the young woman indicated, but promptly Dissapparated. Mrs. Weasley and the young witch scanned the crowd to make sure that no Muggles had noticed his disappearance, which they thankfully hadn't.
"Mr. Goyle?" Ron asked with a sneer. "I see where Malfoy's friends get their good looks."
"That man drives a Ministry limousine," Harry began laughing. Ron suddenly looked very excited, glancing around for young Goyle, not caring about how stupid it would be to provoke such a creature.
"You didn't know who that man was?" The young woman noticed. "In light of what you've learned Mrs. Weasley, I should think that you would have familiarized your children with all of those even slightly suspected of being Death Eaters." She stopped herself and shook her head slightly, as though to shake off a mood or a memory. "I'm sorry. I'm really not myself today; it's just that...well, He's coming back, and already these are dark times." She shrugged. Mrs. Weasley smiled sympathetically. The younger witch straightened. "I'm Ilana Wogny," she said, trying to sound bright. "I'm the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts."
"My husband says you're an Auror," said Mrs. Weasley. Professor Wogny nodded. "Who was your mentor?"
"Alastor Moody, in fact. I'm one of many though, so it's not much to brag on. You two," she addressed the twins, who jumped, startled. "Though the barrier with you, then."
"Right, Professor," George said. Fred saluted her and clicked his heels together and they walked through the barrier onto the magical platform beyond.
"I just want to say that we're all very grateful for Mr. Weasley's help- all the Aurors, and I can't tell you how much good he's done for us. Now that we've got more allies, and strong, influential people in the Ministry- " Mrs. Weasley blushed at the indirect implications on Mr. Weasley's position, " we can continue the good work he began. And because of Mr. Weasley's help, we now stand a chance against He-Who-Must- Not-Be-Named. Miss Weasley." The Professor glanced at Ginny and then indicated the barrier with her eyes. The girl disappeared a moment later. Harry peered up at the woman. The Professor didn't use the familiar "You- Know-Who", but she didn't look terribly stuck up or aristocratic. She had short, brownish hair, bandaged fingers, and facial features that would have been delicate if her line of work was. She trod a thin line of gracious near- attractiveness. Harry had only seen one Auror before- Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody- and Wogny was certainly less scarred than he was. She was not, of course, without her share of old cuts and bruises. Under the shirt she wore a swishy, brown robe of expensive, sturdy material that had a few deep pockets, and looked like it had been carefully sewn back together in several places.
"We'll have to find Him before we suppress Him," Mrs. Weasley was saying wisely.
"Which puts us in an uncomfortable position, seeing as He hasn't been seen since- well, not since the beginning of summer." Wogny finished with a quick glance at Harry. Then she said, sharper than necessary, "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley. The barrier." Harry and Ron ran through, and Mrs. Weasley and Professor Wogny followed soon after.
As they walked toward the train, Ron was urgently scanning the platform. Harry remembered why when he heard an excited voice called out his name.
"Harry! Ron!"
It was Hermione of course. She ran down the platform with her hair flying out behind her. She crashed into the arms of her best friends with nothing short of mirth.
"Oh, we've missed you Hermione."
"Wish you could have come stayed with us for a bit of the summer."
"I think Ginny got lonely."
"Fred and George missed you, too."
"The Burrow's not the same without you."
"And considering, I've lived there my whole life and you've only come once. God only knows how my family's made it all these years. Stop talking about my house, Potter."
Hermione was all smiles. Ginny and the twins certainly were glad to see her. She and Ginny hung off each other's shoulders as they all walked to the train.
"Hullo, dear." Hermione managed to release Ginny long enough to hug Mrs. Weasley. "We got your letter. I hope you liked Bulgaria."
"It made me appreciate home, if nothing else," said Hermione, still smiling.
"Oh, no," cried Mrs. Weasley, laughing. "That awful?" She walked them to the train.
"You're taller than me," Hermione noticed, looked up at Ginny, who she then accused of the egregious and intolerable impudence of the half inch the girl had gained on Hermione.
Mrs. Weasley came on board to make sure that their luggage was carefully stowed away. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were in a car with several younger Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, who smiled politely as Harry went by. Ginny and Hermione eventually had to disentangle to put their trunks up. From within the train, the friends could hear Professor Wogny on the Platform conversing comfortably, as though used to hobnobbing "Narcissa Malfoy, how very lovely to see you."
"Ilana! But you can't have a child going to Hogwarts," came Mrs. Malfoy's nasal voice.
"No, I'm a teacher this year."
"Oh, how wonderful for you-"
Hermione turned from her not-so-subtle eavesdropping. "Who's that Malfoy's mother is talking to? She doesn't look important enough to associate with the World's Most Snobbish Family," she said.
"She's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Ron said, glad to pitch in the information. "Didn't she introduce herself when you came through the barrier?"
"No. Should she have?"
"Ron," Ginny whispered. "She came through with Mum. She was probably waiting for Harry."
Harry heard this, but Hermione didn't. "Listen to the way Mrs. Malfoy talks to her," Hermione noted. "You'd think she was someone quite important as far as the Malfoy's are concerned." Harry agreed with Hermione, but as the conversation between the two women didn't hold much interest or depth, he turned to help Ron with his trunk. He shrugged off the annoyance he felt that Dumbledore had sent an Auror specifically to protect him.
At eleven o'clock, the train pulled away from the station, and the adults on the Platform Disapparated, and such was their communal wizardly grace, that an outside observer might have compared with to falling rain easing into the earth. Hermione flopped over in her seat and yawned. "I'm so tired."
"No you don't." Ron poked at her arm. "You have to tell us everything that happened in Bulgaria."
"Ron, didn't you get my owl? I was on a plane all night. Please, let me sleep." Hermione flipped her hand as to bat away his words.
"What, too many late nights up with Krum? I can understand why you would be tired. I'm sure he's quite a handful, or should I say, mouthful-"
"Stop it," said Harry, Hermione, and Ginny together.
"That's gross," said Ginny.
"Really, Ron," said Harry.
"Leave it, Ron," said Hermione. "Not this early in the year." Ron glared at her, and then elevated his eyebrows enthusiastically and spoke again.
"So, I'm guessing they aren't having the Triwizard Tournament this year," he said conversationally. Ginny and Hermione glared at him and glanced quickly at Harry.
"Come off it, Ron-"
"I'm not going to shatter if you talk about things like that in front of me, you know, Hermione." Harry interrupted. Hermione snapped her mouth shut and glared out of the window. Now why did I have to go and say that? Harry questioned himself. Harry knew Hermione was trying to be nice, but there were too many people coddling him now for his liking. He was 15; certainly not a grown man, but old enough that he didn't need to be protected from Ron.
"I was just joking," murmured Ron. "You were all getting angry at me and I was just trying to point out-"
"That we should be grateful you're not worse?" Ginny started, but cut herself off. "What's that?" she asked, pointing to the door, which had just slid open as what looked like a miniature dementor floated in.
"Potter, Potter, I'm going to get you!" A voice beyond the door wailed.
"Cute, Malfoy. Too bad you couldn't think that up two years ago. It's kind of old now," Ron called to the obvious owner of the voice.
"Well, Weasley, what can I say?" Malfoy entered the car and the illusion of the dementor disappeared in wisps of smoke that curved up around his body. "I've got talent, and my blood is neither disgraced nor muddied. Compared to the three of you, I think I've earned break.
"Poor Potter," he continued as Ron jumped up from his seat. "Your only friends are a Mudblood and a resident of -what's your house called Weasley? Isn't it the Warren or something? - who doesn't even have decent self control." Malfoy looked ingenuinely sorry for Harry. Ron did not know if hexing Malfoy would only corroborate the statement, so he just stood there looking particularly unfriendly for a moment or two.
"At least Harry's friends' I.Q.'s aren't only barely hovering in the single digits," snapped Ginny as Crabbe and Goyle stumbled in.
"At least my friends parents head departments in the Ministry instead of driving cabs for it," Harry met Malfoy's eyes evenly. Goyle looked about to protest, but Malfoy stayed him with a glance.
"You've enchanted the girlfriend to rise to your defense too?" Malfoy sneered, ignoring Harry like a wolf honing in on supposedly weaker prey. "Why does the Lilliputian continue to pop up in such annoying fashions? And speaking of popping up," Malfoy gazed pointedly at Ginny's chest.
"Think you've got an answer to everything we throw at you, Malfoy?" Ginny angrily raised her wand to hex him, but she was aided by the curses and bodies of the other students in the car, who flung themselves at the three Slytherins. As the row escalated, the witch with the food cart arrived at their car. She took in the situation as one was almost used to it, and in the end she was staring quietly at the members of the car who were all dangling from the ceiling from thick green vines.
"Who was the cause of this?" she asked, patiently. When the majority indicated Malfoy, the old witch made him drop lightly from the ceiling. "Move along, then. You can make your purchases from the next car." Malfoy stomped out, and waited for Crabbe and Goyle just beyond the door in the successive car. "Now, anyone for Chocolate Frogs?" asked the witch. There was a lot of noise of assent from the ceiling, and finally the witch dropped everyone as she had done Malfoy and let them buy their sweets. Crabbe and Goyle dashed to where Malfoy was waiting for them.
Malfoy seemed eager to fight, because he kept trying to get back into Ron, Harry, and Hermione's car. His remark to Ginny, however, had successfully angered the other students to the extent of purging the car of him each time.
"Picking on the Gryffindors again?" It was Kat, watching Draco as he was tossed out once more. "Really, Draco, do get a hobby." He whirled and glared at her.
"You treacherous, shrewish-" he started.
"Oh come now, Draco. The purpose of friends is to have someone who'll point out your shortcomings so you don't display them to the real world." He continued to glare. "Really, no appreciation at all. Look, you want to play Jah Mong? We can do some criticizing of one another and call it even."
"Fine," he said, cooling, as Crabbe and Goyle, stuck in Harry's train car, signaled to him for help as they had their teeth turned to wood. If they couldn't figure out on their own to bite their hexers, then they were too far beyond Draco's ability to help them anyway.
As he and Kat arranged the floating Jah Mong tiles in front of them, Kat asked, "So what's wrong with you today?"
"Nothing," was the harsh reply. His eyes were hard and did not meet hers, and his mouth was a thin line.
"This isn't about the Gryffindors," she guessed. "Pansy can't be that upsetting."
"Upsetting her can be," Draco replied. Kat peered out at him behind her black wavy hair.
"I wouldn't know; Pansy and I aren't that close," she remarked.
"Hey, same here," Draco raised his head with a cute smirk, as though it was a fantastic coincidence. He began drawing tiles. Jah Mong was two-person game, instead of for four as with its Muggle counterpart. All the phrases and names associated with the game had been changed around by proud wizards who hadn't wanted to admit that they had stolen the game from Muggles.
"Gotta be quick," Kat chuckled as the tile she had just discarded became wreathed in flame just as Draco reached from it.
"Sure you haven't tampered with your set? Mine's a bit more generous time- wise," Draco commented while quickly drawing back his hand.
"Does your family play?" Kat asked politely.
"No, but going solitaire is more interesting anyway," he answered drawing a tile.
Kat chuckled softly. Soon he would be regaling her with stories of how talented he was at playing chess again himself.
"Well I play against my family. My father cheats something awful," she said.
"Mine takes my tiles away from me when he's punishing me for this or that."
"Does blowing off Pansy count as 'this or that'?"
"Yeah, probably, but I don't bring my set to school, so Merlin only knows what he'll do to me."
"What will he do to you?" Kat asked cautiously. She did not know what sort of man Lucius Malfoy was.
Drago shrugged dismissively and looked at his tiles. "Do you play Jah Mong a lot?" he asked.
"I can never find a partner. And are you going to play or what?" She acknowledged that he didn't want to talk about his father, but she was just a little bit annoyed that the game wasn't going as fast as it usually would.
"Yeah, I'm going to play." He laid out his winning hand. She had to buy him a pumpkin pastry in lieu of his victory, but he wound up giving her more than half of it as they sat and talked.
* * *
Harry's friends were far less comfortable than the pastry eating Slytherins, and Harry knew this was caused by the fact that he hadn't told them about what had happened with Cedric and Voldemort in the graveyard that night in June. He didn't feel like telling them, especially with Ginny there, but he didn't like how uncomfortable the train ride was becoming. There was about an hour left when he decided to induce some sort of conversation from his friends.
"So, a female Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year."
"Something wrong with that?" Hermione asked just a little snappily.
"Not at all," Harry said quickly.
"You heard Mum say she's an Auror?" Ginny was impressed. "I hope she's a good teacher."
"If she's nothing like Moody- or fake Moody or whoever he was- I don't care what she's like as long as she doesn't give too much homework," Ron said.
"As long as she's nothing like Lockhart I'll be content," Harry said, giving Hermione a mischievous glance.
Hermione rolled her eyes, but smiled. "What about Quirrell? I'll take arrogance over evil any day."
"You'll take looks any day," Ron muttered.
"You're one to talk, M'sieur Delacour," Hermione retorted, the humor leaving her face.
Ron and Hermione were not taking the situation as lightly as would be expected, but before either could speak again, Ginny cut in. "If we're going to talk about last year, you should all be thankful that none of you went to Triwizard Ball with Neville. My feet were sore a week afterwards," she said, glancing around to make sure that the boy wasn't in hearing distance.
"Oh and speaking of Triwizard Ball partners-" but Ginny cut Ron off with a knuckle to the head. Play fighting and constant changes of subject by Ginny or Harry kept the atmosphere bearably light until the Hogwarts Express pulled into its station. The sight of the castle, the lake, and the grounds meant that everything would be as all right as possible for another term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everyone in this story except Ilana Wogny. Kat Nott is my character, but I can't take full credit for her because careful readers of the first book know that Mr. Nott has a kid at school. I hope she turns out to be more than just my excuse to get Draco a decent girlfriend, but I don't know; I haven't written the story yet.
Draco Malfoy casually leaned against the wall of the station with the smoke of the Hogwarts Express curling overhead. His parents were mingling with important people as though they were at one of their summer parties. Draco was currently watching the people who entered Platform 9 3/4, and having about as much fun as he had experienced over the summer at the planned social affairs with his parents. The barrier was breached again and Draco's eyes flicked automatically to the two figures that had just meandered through the wrought iron gate. It was Edwin Nott and his daughter Kat. Kat's eyes traveled slowly over the crowd. They rested on Draco, and he glanced away briefly. Kat was a quiet, unnerving person, and her dark, glassy eyes were a main factor in the disconcerting manner about her.
"Something definitely strange about her," Mr. Nott was commenting to his daughter.
"I'm sure she's just tired. She's got to be quite an actress to have convinced Dumbledore's lot of her loyalty," Kat replied.
"True," her father agreed, "And she doesn't seem the type to turn traitor. Do you want me to wait with you until the train leaves?"
"It doesn't matter either way," came the girl's phlegmatic response.
"I'm off to speak with Lucius, then. Why don't you go converse with the younger Mr. Malfoy, how's that?" Nott suggested as he strode off.
"Sounds lovely, Daddy," she told her father's departing back, the enthusiasm in her voice dead before it could live. Kat pushed her cart toward Draco, her face showing boredom and resignation.
"Would the upright and noble 'younger Mr. Malfoy' deign to talk, or is my father too lowly a Death Eater?" Kat said in her quiet mockery.
"I'm sure allowances can be made," Draco drawled. "Who were you and your lowly father discussing?"
"Ilana Wogny. Did you see her on the Muggle side of the barrier?"
"Wasn't paying attention," Draco said glancing around the platform again.
"You'll know that she's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. Apparently she out there keeping the students safe from the Dark Lord and his followers." Kat smiled sardonically as though it was a joke.
"Do you think Dumbledore doesn't know she was nearly a Death Eater?" Draco nobly managed to bring his attention back to the conversation. "I mean, he may think that family doesn't matter, but with an ancestry peppered with Slytherins and Dark Wizards, well, you'd have to be blind to ignore it. She's always been pretending to be Dumbledore's pet, but where her loyalties lie is obvious." Draco snorted.
"She was related to Grindelwald not too obscurely, wasn't she?" said Kat.
"Best friends with Almeda Lestrange." Kat wasn't the only one with extensive knowledge that wasn't technically her business.
"Yes," Kat acknowledged. "But then, so was Lily Potter."
"Was she really?" Draco smiled. "I know Wogny and her friends used to tease my father back when they were at Hogwarts, but he's never mentioned Lily Potter."
"Well-kept secret." Kat was impressed that there were any secrets kept well enough that Draco didn't know of them. Both of them had heard so many stories at home that they had encyclopedic knowledge of everyone who was anyone in the wizard world.
"Mrs. Potter was just a Mudblood, so I can see why my father wouldn't want to talk about any connections he had with her kind."
"You know, the Parkinson's can't trace their name back to a time when they weren't wizards," Pansy Parkinson cut in, causing both Draco and Kat to jump. "Draco, a word?" she said, though her inflection lacked any question qualities.
Draco turned to see what Kat's reaction was, but she was already gone, pulling her trunk into the train. She had left Draco to be berated by his jealous girlfriend. Draco tried to pretend to listen to what Pansy was saying, but her droning made even pseudo-focus difficult. He knew perfectly well how pure her lineage was; that was why he had been instructed to treat her the way he did. But Draco was too similar to the father who had raised him. He didn't want to have to endure the egregious sin of being bored when he didn't devise the plan that required it. Pansy had been becoming entirely dull lately. He didn't really care if she was "pure". His father could date Pansy if she was so good a catch. He knew that if they ever considered marriage, it would be because the Parkinson's needed the Malfoys, and not the other way around.
Abruptly, so she wouldn't grab his arm or anything equally degrading, Draco turned away from Pansy and began loading his own trunk on to the train, Pansy hissing annoyingly at him to come back.
* * *
As the Weasleys entered the station, they saw a young woman who had obviously planted herself at the barrier leading to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. She wore a grey shirt with blue lettering that said "Order of Merlin" over her robe, which made her look like a Muggle woman in a skirt.
"Oh, lovely," said Mrs. Weasley seeing her, "That's a relief."
"What's a relief? That the woman over there is going to give everything away?" Ron asked.
"The Muggles will just think that she's a fantasy fanatic," said George.
"Yeah, there are loads of weirdos in London- I bet she blends right in," said Fred.
"Do they give you a T-shirt when you achieve Order of Merlin?" asked Harry, frowning. Ginny laughed.
"Of course not. She probably charmed it herself."
"Mrs. Weasley." The witch had spotted them and smiled in acknowledgment.
"Did Dumbledore send you as an escort?" Mrs. Weasley asked. The young woman nodded.
"All right, Mr. Potter?" She asked it with concern, but not warmly or as though they were long lost friends, as many adults liked to do when first introduced to Harry.
Harry was sick of people worrying about him, but he nodded. Like most people, that first thing her eyes flew to was his scar. She shut her eyes in mental reproach, and then turned back to Mrs. Weasley.
"Any trouble getting here?" she asked.
"Nothing more than the traffic-" Mrs. Weasley stopped when a large man a bit older than the woman in the Order of Merlin shirt came up and put an arm around the woman's shoulder.
"Ilana, what would you be doing out here all alone? I've heard that Muggle men can be quite dangerous. We wouldn't want anything to happen to you." His eyes slid casually to the Weasleys, and it seemed like they intended to slide their way right on back to the woman, but then the man saw Harry. The man was the same one who had driven Harry to the Weasleys. He looked angry to see Harry, and this emotion increased when the woman said:
"If I can't defend myself from Muggles, Mr. Goyle, then what am I doing teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts to students this year? I shouldn't want your son not to be able to protect himself from Dark wizards. Oh, look. Is that your wife?" Mr. Goyle didn't even bother to strain his neck in the direction the young woman indicated, but promptly Dissapparated. Mrs. Weasley and the young witch scanned the crowd to make sure that no Muggles had noticed his disappearance, which they thankfully hadn't.
"Mr. Goyle?" Ron asked with a sneer. "I see where Malfoy's friends get their good looks."
"That man drives a Ministry limousine," Harry began laughing. Ron suddenly looked very excited, glancing around for young Goyle, not caring about how stupid it would be to provoke such a creature.
"You didn't know who that man was?" The young woman noticed. "In light of what you've learned Mrs. Weasley, I should think that you would have familiarized your children with all of those even slightly suspected of being Death Eaters." She stopped herself and shook her head slightly, as though to shake off a mood or a memory. "I'm sorry. I'm really not myself today; it's just that...well, He's coming back, and already these are dark times." She shrugged. Mrs. Weasley smiled sympathetically. The younger witch straightened. "I'm Ilana Wogny," she said, trying to sound bright. "I'm the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts."
"My husband says you're an Auror," said Mrs. Weasley. Professor Wogny nodded. "Who was your mentor?"
"Alastor Moody, in fact. I'm one of many though, so it's not much to brag on. You two," she addressed the twins, who jumped, startled. "Though the barrier with you, then."
"Right, Professor," George said. Fred saluted her and clicked his heels together and they walked through the barrier onto the magical platform beyond.
"I just want to say that we're all very grateful for Mr. Weasley's help- all the Aurors, and I can't tell you how much good he's done for us. Now that we've got more allies, and strong, influential people in the Ministry- " Mrs. Weasley blushed at the indirect implications on Mr. Weasley's position, " we can continue the good work he began. And because of Mr. Weasley's help, we now stand a chance against He-Who-Must- Not-Be-Named. Miss Weasley." The Professor glanced at Ginny and then indicated the barrier with her eyes. The girl disappeared a moment later. Harry peered up at the woman. The Professor didn't use the familiar "You- Know-Who", but she didn't look terribly stuck up or aristocratic. She had short, brownish hair, bandaged fingers, and facial features that would have been delicate if her line of work was. She trod a thin line of gracious near- attractiveness. Harry had only seen one Auror before- Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody- and Wogny was certainly less scarred than he was. She was not, of course, without her share of old cuts and bruises. Under the shirt she wore a swishy, brown robe of expensive, sturdy material that had a few deep pockets, and looked like it had been carefully sewn back together in several places.
"We'll have to find Him before we suppress Him," Mrs. Weasley was saying wisely.
"Which puts us in an uncomfortable position, seeing as He hasn't been seen since- well, not since the beginning of summer." Wogny finished with a quick glance at Harry. Then she said, sharper than necessary, "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley. The barrier." Harry and Ron ran through, and Mrs. Weasley and Professor Wogny followed soon after.
As they walked toward the train, Ron was urgently scanning the platform. Harry remembered why when he heard an excited voice called out his name.
"Harry! Ron!"
It was Hermione of course. She ran down the platform with her hair flying out behind her. She crashed into the arms of her best friends with nothing short of mirth.
"Oh, we've missed you Hermione."
"Wish you could have come stayed with us for a bit of the summer."
"I think Ginny got lonely."
"Fred and George missed you, too."
"The Burrow's not the same without you."
"And considering, I've lived there my whole life and you've only come once. God only knows how my family's made it all these years. Stop talking about my house, Potter."
Hermione was all smiles. Ginny and the twins certainly were glad to see her. She and Ginny hung off each other's shoulders as they all walked to the train.
"Hullo, dear." Hermione managed to release Ginny long enough to hug Mrs. Weasley. "We got your letter. I hope you liked Bulgaria."
"It made me appreciate home, if nothing else," said Hermione, still smiling.
"Oh, no," cried Mrs. Weasley, laughing. "That awful?" She walked them to the train.
"You're taller than me," Hermione noticed, looked up at Ginny, who she then accused of the egregious and intolerable impudence of the half inch the girl had gained on Hermione.
Mrs. Weasley came on board to make sure that their luggage was carefully stowed away. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were in a car with several younger Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, who smiled politely as Harry went by. Ginny and Hermione eventually had to disentangle to put their trunks up. From within the train, the friends could hear Professor Wogny on the Platform conversing comfortably, as though used to hobnobbing "Narcissa Malfoy, how very lovely to see you."
"Ilana! But you can't have a child going to Hogwarts," came Mrs. Malfoy's nasal voice.
"No, I'm a teacher this year."
"Oh, how wonderful for you-"
Hermione turned from her not-so-subtle eavesdropping. "Who's that Malfoy's mother is talking to? She doesn't look important enough to associate with the World's Most Snobbish Family," she said.
"She's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Ron said, glad to pitch in the information. "Didn't she introduce herself when you came through the barrier?"
"No. Should she have?"
"Ron," Ginny whispered. "She came through with Mum. She was probably waiting for Harry."
Harry heard this, but Hermione didn't. "Listen to the way Mrs. Malfoy talks to her," Hermione noted. "You'd think she was someone quite important as far as the Malfoy's are concerned." Harry agreed with Hermione, but as the conversation between the two women didn't hold much interest or depth, he turned to help Ron with his trunk. He shrugged off the annoyance he felt that Dumbledore had sent an Auror specifically to protect him.
At eleven o'clock, the train pulled away from the station, and the adults on the Platform Disapparated, and such was their communal wizardly grace, that an outside observer might have compared with to falling rain easing into the earth. Hermione flopped over in her seat and yawned. "I'm so tired."
"No you don't." Ron poked at her arm. "You have to tell us everything that happened in Bulgaria."
"Ron, didn't you get my owl? I was on a plane all night. Please, let me sleep." Hermione flipped her hand as to bat away his words.
"What, too many late nights up with Krum? I can understand why you would be tired. I'm sure he's quite a handful, or should I say, mouthful-"
"Stop it," said Harry, Hermione, and Ginny together.
"That's gross," said Ginny.
"Really, Ron," said Harry.
"Leave it, Ron," said Hermione. "Not this early in the year." Ron glared at her, and then elevated his eyebrows enthusiastically and spoke again.
"So, I'm guessing they aren't having the Triwizard Tournament this year," he said conversationally. Ginny and Hermione glared at him and glanced quickly at Harry.
"Come off it, Ron-"
"I'm not going to shatter if you talk about things like that in front of me, you know, Hermione." Harry interrupted. Hermione snapped her mouth shut and glared out of the window. Now why did I have to go and say that? Harry questioned himself. Harry knew Hermione was trying to be nice, but there were too many people coddling him now for his liking. He was 15; certainly not a grown man, but old enough that he didn't need to be protected from Ron.
"I was just joking," murmured Ron. "You were all getting angry at me and I was just trying to point out-"
"That we should be grateful you're not worse?" Ginny started, but cut herself off. "What's that?" she asked, pointing to the door, which had just slid open as what looked like a miniature dementor floated in.
"Potter, Potter, I'm going to get you!" A voice beyond the door wailed.
"Cute, Malfoy. Too bad you couldn't think that up two years ago. It's kind of old now," Ron called to the obvious owner of the voice.
"Well, Weasley, what can I say?" Malfoy entered the car and the illusion of the dementor disappeared in wisps of smoke that curved up around his body. "I've got talent, and my blood is neither disgraced nor muddied. Compared to the three of you, I think I've earned break.
"Poor Potter," he continued as Ron jumped up from his seat. "Your only friends are a Mudblood and a resident of -what's your house called Weasley? Isn't it the Warren or something? - who doesn't even have decent self control." Malfoy looked ingenuinely sorry for Harry. Ron did not know if hexing Malfoy would only corroborate the statement, so he just stood there looking particularly unfriendly for a moment or two.
"At least Harry's friends' I.Q.'s aren't only barely hovering in the single digits," snapped Ginny as Crabbe and Goyle stumbled in.
"At least my friends parents head departments in the Ministry instead of driving cabs for it," Harry met Malfoy's eyes evenly. Goyle looked about to protest, but Malfoy stayed him with a glance.
"You've enchanted the girlfriend to rise to your defense too?" Malfoy sneered, ignoring Harry like a wolf honing in on supposedly weaker prey. "Why does the Lilliputian continue to pop up in such annoying fashions? And speaking of popping up," Malfoy gazed pointedly at Ginny's chest.
"Think you've got an answer to everything we throw at you, Malfoy?" Ginny angrily raised her wand to hex him, but she was aided by the curses and bodies of the other students in the car, who flung themselves at the three Slytherins. As the row escalated, the witch with the food cart arrived at their car. She took in the situation as one was almost used to it, and in the end she was staring quietly at the members of the car who were all dangling from the ceiling from thick green vines.
"Who was the cause of this?" she asked, patiently. When the majority indicated Malfoy, the old witch made him drop lightly from the ceiling. "Move along, then. You can make your purchases from the next car." Malfoy stomped out, and waited for Crabbe and Goyle just beyond the door in the successive car. "Now, anyone for Chocolate Frogs?" asked the witch. There was a lot of noise of assent from the ceiling, and finally the witch dropped everyone as she had done Malfoy and let them buy their sweets. Crabbe and Goyle dashed to where Malfoy was waiting for them.
Malfoy seemed eager to fight, because he kept trying to get back into Ron, Harry, and Hermione's car. His remark to Ginny, however, had successfully angered the other students to the extent of purging the car of him each time.
"Picking on the Gryffindors again?" It was Kat, watching Draco as he was tossed out once more. "Really, Draco, do get a hobby." He whirled and glared at her.
"You treacherous, shrewish-" he started.
"Oh come now, Draco. The purpose of friends is to have someone who'll point out your shortcomings so you don't display them to the real world." He continued to glare. "Really, no appreciation at all. Look, you want to play Jah Mong? We can do some criticizing of one another and call it even."
"Fine," he said, cooling, as Crabbe and Goyle, stuck in Harry's train car, signaled to him for help as they had their teeth turned to wood. If they couldn't figure out on their own to bite their hexers, then they were too far beyond Draco's ability to help them anyway.
As he and Kat arranged the floating Jah Mong tiles in front of them, Kat asked, "So what's wrong with you today?"
"Nothing," was the harsh reply. His eyes were hard and did not meet hers, and his mouth was a thin line.
"This isn't about the Gryffindors," she guessed. "Pansy can't be that upsetting."
"Upsetting her can be," Draco replied. Kat peered out at him behind her black wavy hair.
"I wouldn't know; Pansy and I aren't that close," she remarked.
"Hey, same here," Draco raised his head with a cute smirk, as though it was a fantastic coincidence. He began drawing tiles. Jah Mong was two-person game, instead of for four as with its Muggle counterpart. All the phrases and names associated with the game had been changed around by proud wizards who hadn't wanted to admit that they had stolen the game from Muggles.
"Gotta be quick," Kat chuckled as the tile she had just discarded became wreathed in flame just as Draco reached from it.
"Sure you haven't tampered with your set? Mine's a bit more generous time- wise," Draco commented while quickly drawing back his hand.
"Does your family play?" Kat asked politely.
"No, but going solitaire is more interesting anyway," he answered drawing a tile.
Kat chuckled softly. Soon he would be regaling her with stories of how talented he was at playing chess again himself.
"Well I play against my family. My father cheats something awful," she said.
"Mine takes my tiles away from me when he's punishing me for this or that."
"Does blowing off Pansy count as 'this or that'?"
"Yeah, probably, but I don't bring my set to school, so Merlin only knows what he'll do to me."
"What will he do to you?" Kat asked cautiously. She did not know what sort of man Lucius Malfoy was.
Drago shrugged dismissively and looked at his tiles. "Do you play Jah Mong a lot?" he asked.
"I can never find a partner. And are you going to play or what?" She acknowledged that he didn't want to talk about his father, but she was just a little bit annoyed that the game wasn't going as fast as it usually would.
"Yeah, I'm going to play." He laid out his winning hand. She had to buy him a pumpkin pastry in lieu of his victory, but he wound up giving her more than half of it as they sat and talked.
* * *
Harry's friends were far less comfortable than the pastry eating Slytherins, and Harry knew this was caused by the fact that he hadn't told them about what had happened with Cedric and Voldemort in the graveyard that night in June. He didn't feel like telling them, especially with Ginny there, but he didn't like how uncomfortable the train ride was becoming. There was about an hour left when he decided to induce some sort of conversation from his friends.
"So, a female Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year."
"Something wrong with that?" Hermione asked just a little snappily.
"Not at all," Harry said quickly.
"You heard Mum say she's an Auror?" Ginny was impressed. "I hope she's a good teacher."
"If she's nothing like Moody- or fake Moody or whoever he was- I don't care what she's like as long as she doesn't give too much homework," Ron said.
"As long as she's nothing like Lockhart I'll be content," Harry said, giving Hermione a mischievous glance.
Hermione rolled her eyes, but smiled. "What about Quirrell? I'll take arrogance over evil any day."
"You'll take looks any day," Ron muttered.
"You're one to talk, M'sieur Delacour," Hermione retorted, the humor leaving her face.
Ron and Hermione were not taking the situation as lightly as would be expected, but before either could speak again, Ginny cut in. "If we're going to talk about last year, you should all be thankful that none of you went to Triwizard Ball with Neville. My feet were sore a week afterwards," she said, glancing around to make sure that the boy wasn't in hearing distance.
"Oh and speaking of Triwizard Ball partners-" but Ginny cut Ron off with a knuckle to the head. Play fighting and constant changes of subject by Ginny or Harry kept the atmosphere bearably light until the Hogwarts Express pulled into its station. The sight of the castle, the lake, and the grounds meant that everything would be as all right as possible for another term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.