Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.  Warner Brothers bought me out.

The rest of the week was the best Harry ever had at the Dursleys.  Uncle Vernon went out of his way to keep Harry and his sister apart.  But Marge went out of her way to keep Harry by her side.  And for once in his life, Harry was glad that Aunt Marge won out on the subject.

Still, as much as Harry enjoyed that week, it was still only a week, and Harry still had three more before going back to Hogwarts.  After Aunt Marge left, Uncle Vernon seemed to make it his goal to make Harry as miserable as possible.  He was only let out of his room for three hours a day, and those three hours were to do work around the yard.  Fortunately, the Dursley's fed him decently, so Harry didn't worry about starvation like when he was 12.  Harry laughed, thinking you know it's a bad sign when you're happy because you're allowed to eat.

Finally, September 1st rolled around, and Harry managed to convince his uncle to give him a ride to King's Cross.  Harry suspected his uncle went along not to help Harry out, but to get him out of the house for nine months.  When Harry crossed the barrier to Platform 9 ¾, he quickly loaded his trunk on the train and looked for his friends.  After finding a compartment with a bunch of young Hufflepuffs, then another with some even younger Ravenclaws, Harry found Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George.

"Hi Harry!" Hermione called out enthusiastically.

Harry smiled back and Ron asked, "Muggles treat you ok?"

"Well," Harry said, "not really.  But you remember what happened my third year, and I blew up my aunt?"

"WHAT?" yelled Fred.

"You blew up your aunt?" George asked, excited.

Harry laughed and nodded.  "Anyways," he continued, "it turns out that Dumbledore asked some of the obliviators to modify my Aunt's perception of me.  So while my Uncle was trying to be nasty, she was throwing around comments about how I was such a well-adjusted kid!"

After a few chuckles, Fred deadpanned, "That must have been some Confundus Charm to make her think you were a good boy."

Harry tackled the twin, and within seconds Harry and the Weasley boys were all wrestling around on the ground.  Hermione sat, looking at the friendly scuffle with an air of annoyance, while Ginny was lightly giggling.

"Dear me," came a drawl from the open door.  Everyone looked up to see Draco peering in.  "I knew that nobody could stand you people," Draco called, "but I didn't realize you couldn't tolerate each other as well."  Draco knew, though, that there were 6 wizards and witches in the compartment, and he didn't even have Goyle and Crabbe beside him.  After delivering his crack, he smirked and walked off before anyone could say anything back.

"I swear," muttered Hermione, "one day that boy is going to get himself killed."

"Oh…" cooed George, "looks like Hermione has a crush."

Hermione drew her wand and pointed it right between the twin's eyes.  "Take it back," she said hard.

George looked nervously at the wand, and realized that Hermione was angry enough to actually curse him.

Hermione repeated quietly, yet even colder, "Take.  It.  Back."

"I… I… er… I'm sorry Hermione," George said, slightly panicked.

Hermione put her wand back in her robes and said, "I can't count the number of times that bit of slime has called me a mudblood.  The day I never see him again cannot come soon enough."  Harry realized that as much as he loathed Malfoy, Hermione probably had even more reason to hate the Slytherin.  And as much as he detested him, he hoped that Draco wouldn't discover the hard way just how much Hermione hated him.  Harry wasn't naïve enough to think that all of Hermione's studying didn't give her an extensive knowledge of curses.

The rest of the train ride passed far too quickly, and Harry soon found himself sitting for the sorting ceremony.  Shortly after, McGonagall entered the Great Hall as well, followed by a large group of 1st years.  Harry turned back around and looked at the sorting hat, which looked about ready to begin its song.

Wizards and witches in the past

Faced an awful truth

The outside world feared them

This castle is the proof

A sanctuary and a place to learn

Without distrust and fear

Thanks in part to Hogwarts

Magic did persevere

The builders needed a leader

Gryffindor filled the part

He and his followers were of

Brave and noble heart

The castle required planning

Which suited Ravenclaw nice

Since knowledge and forethought

Were her groups only vice

Each project needs ambition

Slytherin rose to the test

Where craftiness was asked for

His followers were by far the best

The castle required hard work

And Hufflepuff took her spot

Whose entourage was indeed

The most loyal of the lot

Each student they then sorted

And four houses did result

Finally they crafted me

Whom they could all consult

My job is rather simple

I'm a sorting hat, you see!

So put me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be!

Harry tried to pay attention to the sorting, but in truth he found the event slightly boring.  After all, he didn't know anyone in the new class, so it really didn't mean much if 'Carrick, Randy' went to Ravenclaw, or 'Delzer, Sean' went to Hufflepuff.  Even if they were sorted into Gryffindor, Harry would get to know them later.  Yet as he was looking around, he noticed that one of the first years was constantly shooting glances at him.  Harry wasn't that surprised; he was Harry Potter after all, until he noticed the expression on the first year's face.  It wasn't admiration and it wasn't even anger.  Harry was slightly puzzled by the look, and the best word he could use to describe it would be resignation.  There had been many reactions to the boy-who-lived at Hogwarts – awe, suspicion, hatred, jealousy – but Harry couldn't recall any wizard or witch ever looking like they were merely disappointed to be in the same place as him.  That was more of a Dursley expression.

McGonagall called out, "Lewis, Clive," and Harry watched the first year who had been staring at him approach the hat.  However, the sorting hat couldn't seem to make up its mind, and the hall sat for almost a minute, before the hat almost hesitantly called out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Everyone around Harry burst into cheers.  Harry clapped, but didn't know what to think.  Neither did Clive, apparently, who numbly made his way to the end of the Gryffindor table.  Harry watched the rest of the sorting, when another oddity hit him.  When McGonagall called out, "Woodward, Allison," the majority of the hall stared at the girl.  They weren't watching the blond hair girl, they were gawking at her.  Harry felt a tingle as he looked at her, and realized what was going on.

"Ron," Harry whispered, "Allison is a veela."

"What?" Ron shot back, "Are you sure?"

Harry smirked and said, "Well, look at the guys in the hall.  Do they seem to be acting a bit strange?"

Ron grimaced as he saw that Harry was right.  The girls appeared to be politely watching, but the boys were indeed looking at Allison like they had looked at Fleur the year before.  Harry saw the look on Ron's face and asked, "What's the matter, Ron?  Don't like veela anymore?"

Ron glared at his friend and hissed, "No.  I never did, and it's certainly not right that they can do that to people.  Even worse, it's an eleven year old girl.  It's just disturbing."

Harry couldn't resist teasing, "I don't know, Ron.  Fleur's little sister was only 8 years old last year, but she was pretty glad to see me before the third task.  Maybe veelas, er, progress differently than us.  Maybe she'll fancy you?"

"Harry!" Ron hissed, blushing.

Harry kept on prodding, "I wonder what it would be like raising Veela children.  You'll tell me, right?"

Ron swatted him, but both caught the furious glare from McGonagall and stopped.  In their commotion, they hardly noticed that Allison already been sorted into Ravenclaw, and the last five people after her had been sorted as well.

After the marvelous feast, Dumbledore stood up and the Great Hall grew silent.  "I suppose you are all wondering," he asked, "who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is.  Well, I have some unfortunate news.  There were no applicants.  None.  Everyone is afraid the position in cursed, so I've decided to dispel the rumor, and take the position myself."

The Great Hall burst with applause and Harry saw that the only one looking less than pleased was Draco Malfoy.  Dumbledore smiled and continued, "Now for the rest of the announcements.  First, the forbidden forest is still off limits.  Second, Argus Filch has requested a ban on any product manufactured by the Weasley Twins."  Harry couldn't help noticing that the twins were actually excited about the news and were grinning mischievously.  "Quidditch," Dumbledore continued, "Will be reinstated this year.  If you wish to be part of your house team, please talk with Madame Hooch during the first week of class.  Please remember that first years are not allowed on the house team.  Finally, I have decided to have a Christmas Dance this year.  The professors for the most part agree, although a few were upset by the lack of concentration before the Yule Ball last year.  I trust this won't be a problem?"

Harry laughed as the students collectively shook their heads side-to-side excitedly.  He had no illusions that this year's dance would be just as disruptive as the one last year.  Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, and Harry had the definite impression that the headmaster knew this as well.  Still, he cheerily announced, "Then it's settled.  Information on the dance will be posted the first week.  Now, Prefects, please lead your house up to their dormitories."

"Gryffindors," Angelina called out, "Please follow me.  Hermione, can you take the rear?"

"Hermione?" Ron asked, "You're a prefect?"

Hermione glared at him and said, "You don't need to act so surprised."

Ron quickly replied, "I'm not surprised you're a prefect.  I'm surprised you didn't mention anything.  As soon as Percy got his letter, he didn't go five minutes without mentioning it."

Harry chimed in, "Yeah, you never once said anything about it.  Of course, you were probably having too much fun.  How was Bulgaria?"

Hermione smiled and said, "Oh, it was wonderful!  I thought Viktor would live in a big mansion – you know, because he's a famous Quidditch player – but his family still lives in their old house; they've lived there for Viktor's whole life.  It's really cozy; it's got a comfortable little room with a fireplace, and the two of us would sit and talk for hours.  And it's only a mile away from this little village called Edith – all magic town – and Viktor and I would walk there holding hands almost every day."

Harry noticed the look on Ron's face and quietly mouthed to Hermione, "Tone it down."

Hermione must have understood him, or noticed Ron herself, because she weakly finished, "Er, I mean, it was ok, and I'm certainly glad to be back at Hogwarts."

"So Harry," Ron asked, changing the subject, "Who are you going to ask to the dance?"

"Ugh!" groaned Harry, "Let's not talk about the dance."

Ron grinned and said, "Fair enough.  I'll let Parvati and Lavender wring it out of you."

"You even think about enlisting their help," Harry threatened, "and I'll wring you out!"

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A/N: I was tired of reading stories where Hermione, immediately after summer, said something like, "Well, I really didn't enjoy my trip to Bulgaria.  Viktor and I broke up.  Are you free on Friday night?"

Garina: Yeah, I doubt there will be Irish Drinking Songs.  Oh well.

Arkayas: Glad you like the modified Marge!  Just thought I'd keep things interesting during the summer.

Sara: Wow – glad you like my writing.  If you want any help with writing something yourself, feel free to ask someone on ff.net to help you.  Most of the people here are willing to be sounding boards for ideas, proof-readers, etc.  If you want, I will – you can email me at kevinericweber@yahoo.com.  I've already helped a couple people out with story ideas and sorting hat songs.

Review if you want.