Chapter 2: Of Sorting Feasts and Mysterious Owls

Early the next morning, light streamed brightly through the gauzy curtains that covered the bay window in Hermione's room. Apparently, the previous year's Head Girl had enjoyed waking up with the sun, greeting each new day as it arrived with a smile on her face and a song in her heart.

Hermione most emphatically did not.

Groaning, she buried her head under her comforter, muttering about the inhumanity of early classes and really, was it necessary for the sun to even be up before 8 am? Surely there was a charm that could take care of that... The duvet rose to the occasion admirably, however, and since there apparently was to be no further sleep time this morning Hermione's mind decided to replay the events of last night till she felt awake enough to crawl out of bed and face the shower.

***

The Great Hall had been beautiful, she remembered - it was always nice to set eyes on it again after a summer at home, but the ceiling's charm had that night been adjusted to reflect the brilliant sunset that burned in the sky over Hogwarts, and the Hall's decor was accented in the autumnal colors of dusky orange, deep wines and forest green.

The seventh-years' places at their tables were denoted by pins set at each plate; a miniature version of the Hogwarts crest with a smaller sigul of the appropriate house placed in the lower left corner. Hermione's seat had another as well- the Head Girl pin, which she self-consciously attempted to attach to her robe with a minimum of reverence. Only the memory of Percy Weasley kept her from readjusting it about once every three minutes.

The Sorting Ceremony proceeded as it had each year before; the incoming students were divided fairly equally amongst the Houses. Hermione thought that the new Slytherins looked relatively less vile than they had in previous years. There were certainly none among them who even approached a Malfoy level of sleaze. In times like these, she mused, it was probably safer to be a little more selective about those you chose to educate in the ways of powerful magic.

The teaching staff had remained mostly the same over the summer, she was grateful to see. Professor McGonagall sat at Dumbledore's right, surveying the new Gryffindors with a satisfied smile. Madame Hooch, Professors Flitwick, Sprout - all looked the same as they had at the Leaving Feast three months before. Professor Snape... well, he looked as dour as ever, but Hermione thought she detected a certain weariness that had not been there previously. That could, however, have been attributable to the chattering Divinations teacher seated next to him whom he was making a valiant attempt to ignore. The only new addition was not really a new addition at all. Remus Lupin had returned to teach Defense of the Dark Arts once again. His actions in last two years had left absolutely no doubt as to where his sympathies lay in the fight against Voldemort; he had put his life on the line several times for both Harry and the wizarding world as a whole. This year, there would be no complaints about a werewolf at Hogwarts.

When all were finally seated at their places, Dumbledore rose to make his traditional beginning-of-term speech. A few muffled snickers rose from the students' tables; those who had been here in previous years knew the Headmaster's somewhat... eccentric sense of humor. Eccentric was a kind way to put it, really, Hermione thought.

This address, however, proved to be quite different from the nonsense words of the feasts before. Dumbledore's face was grave as he began to speak.

"Students, staff, faculty. Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Ordinarily, and as I can see most of you remember, I prefer to keep the Sorting Feast a time of merriment and joy for all. It deeply pains me, therefore, that I must say these words to you tonight. I would not, if I didn't feel it was my obligation.

"It cannot have escaped the notice of a single one among you that Voldemort -" Gasps echoed around the Hall, from those not accustomed to hearing that name spoken aloud. Dumbledore waited for silence once again, and continued. "That Voldemort's power is now the greatest it has been since his temporary defeat seventeen years ago. Upon the advice of several of my staff" - here, he cast a glance at Professor Snape, who stayed grimly silent - "I have decided it is no longer prudent to shelter you all from the truth.

"My children - and I do consider you, each of you, to be my children - these are dangerous times to be on the side of Light in the wizarding world. There may be - will almost certainly be - a point at which each of you will be called upon to fight. Fight against what you know in your hearts to be evil, against what threatens you and the lives of your families every day. It is imperative that you be ready to use your particular talents to protect not only yourselves and your classmates, but the state of the free world as we know it. Seventh-years, I speak especially to you; this will be a crucial year for you, in which your destinies are largely formed. See that you make the most of it.

"I do not say all this to scare you. The truth is, however, that we all should be frightened. There is much in the world this day to be afraid of. Tonight, however, I will make this solemn vow to you all: as long as there is breath in my body - or life in my spirit -" Dumbledore smiled briefly at the ghosts hovering around the hall, each as transfixed as any student - "I will let no harm come to you in my keeping. This is my word as your headmaster, as a wizard, and as a man.

"Now, please, enjoy the rest of the feast! The elves will, I fear, be heartbroken if their hard work goes to waste." Dumbledore sat, patting the hand of Professor McGonagall as she scanned the students nervously. For the most part, the upperclassmen were whispering amongst themselves, plans and theories being hatched and scratched every other minute. The poor first years were fixed in their seats, nearly shaking with fright.

Hermione did not dare glance at Harry. It was bad enough that her friends were firmly against her stance on Auror training; now even Dumbledore was insinuating that it was every wizard's duty! Was she wrong? Could she, in all her hours of deliberation and discussion, have made a mistake?

The arrival of the feast gave everyone a welcome distraction, and by the time plates were loaded and mouths full, Dumbledore's speech had been pushed to the back of everyone's mind. Everyone's, that is, except Hermione's. Harry and Ron involved themselves in a passionate discussion of the Cannons' newly recruited Beater while Hermione miserably fiddled with her silverware. It was a relief all around when the meal ended and students were allowed to return to their dormitories.

As Head Girl, it was Hermione's responsibility to show the new students to their rooms, and make sure everyone was settled before she could finally sleep herself. Crossing the Gryffindor common room, she noticed Harry sitting rather pensively in one of the chairs before the fire. "Goodnight, Harry." she said; he was, after all, one of her closest friends, and a little disagreement was no reason to be uncivil.

"Night, 'Mione." He seemed as if he was about to say something else, then thought better of it. She reached the foot of the stairs before he spoke again. "I'm sure, if you asked, Professor Lupin would let you switch into his class. Everyone would understand." He winced slightly. Some things were impossible not to say; this, however unwise, was one of them.

Hermione hesitated for a few seconds, and then continued wordlessly up the stairs to what she knew would be a restless night of tossing and turning.

***

Hermione lifted the blankets slightly, letting in an altogether too-bright ray of sunshine, and squinted at her watch. Time to get up, then. Wiping the sleep out of her eyes, she stumbled towards the bathroom.

~~~

Half an hour later, the Great Hall was filling up with students for the first breakfast of term. The Patented Weasley Bedhead had attacked Ron with a vengeance this morning - his red locks were sticking up and out, sideways, backwards, and forwards. He, Hermione, and Harry all had the bleary-eyed look of the first day back at school.

"Coffee." Hermione said decisively, and the boys silently held out their mugs.

The rest of the meal continued in relative silence, but not uncomfortably - it was simply too early in the morning for real conversation. Many breakfasts had passed in this familiar way over the last six years.

Ron was just clearing Hermione's plate of the last of her eggs as a solitary owl swooped into the dining hall. "A bit early for mail, isn't it?" Harry asked with mild curiosity.

All three of them, however, became very curious indeed as the owl settled on the Slytherin table, just in front of none other than Draco Malfoy. He read the note while the owl reduced a crust of toast to crumbs, and nodded curtly at it. The owl departed as quickly as it had come.

"Odd," Hermione remarked thoughtfully. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Yes. Very odd."

--

A/N: Thanks to those who have reviewed, and are continuing to read! It means a lot to me. I've spent the last several months immersed in some wonderful, wonderful HP fanfic, mainly of the SS/HG persuasion (and yes, that's what this story will eventually be. I know I've barely mentioned Severus, but believe me, we're getting there!). It's hard to say what I've been influenced by - the list of fics would probably reach into the double digits. A few of the ones that come immediately to mind are "The Other Side of Darkness", "The Fire and the Rose", "Roman Holiday", and "Soul Searching". Those are all wonderfully written, literally amazing fics that no SS/HG reader should overlook. I'm neither pretending nor aspiring to their levels of skill; I just have my own little story to tell alongside. I hope that if you're enjoying this fic, you'll check the others out as well. They can all be found at DarkSarcasm (http://www.darksarcasm.co.uk). Again, please review if you liked it and especially if you didn't - I can always improve. Thanks everyone, and see you again soon!