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Chapter Five – Author's Notes – I swear that I will make my chappies longer. Anyhow, happy reading… screw the disclaimers…J Tell me if I'm too detailed and that I should get on with the damn story. Okay? J I love you people, even if you don't review. J Nah…disclaimers apply, as usual.
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"Harry! Hermione! Ron! Oi! Over here, yo!" Fred and George cried, hysterically waving and jumping up and down. Fred and George had been on lockdown by Mrs. Weasley for two weeks. The three rolled their trolleys toward Fred and George. "Ron, Fred, George, don't you dare let me catch you doing something terrible…" Mrs. Weasley said, straightening Mr. Weasley's collar absentmindedly. As Fred, George and the others stepped into the train, Harry suddenly had a realization—"Quidditch! Quidditch matches are back on! No Triwizard Tournament this year! Fred! George! Quidditch matches! Back on!" Fred let out a loud whoop of joy and lifted Ginny up, raising her like the Wood with the Quidditch Cup in Harry's third year. "Fred, PUT ME DOWN! OR MUM'LL HEAR ABOUT THIS!" Slowly, Fred set his sister down with exaggerated care, making everyone laugh. "See you all at school, then. We're going to join Lee," George said, walking to Lee's compartment at the back of the train. That left Ginny with Harry and the others. "Ginny, leave us, okay?" said Ron, opening the door to the nearest empty compartment. "Fine," Ginny huffed, and stomped off in search of a compartment. "You don't have to be so harsh on her," said Hermione, plopping down on one side of the compartment. "She's your sister, you know." "I know that. But she's getting weird lately. She shuts up more often. That's not Ginny, I know." Harry joined the conversation: "Suppose she's being possessed by Voldemort again?" They laughed. "Really, Harry. Speaking of—" "Don't—say—the—name!" hissed Ron, slamming the compartment door. "Ron, Voldemort's not—" "Harry! Shut up! And don't say the name!"
[Later]
Hermione peered out the window, which displayed a foggy countryside, rimmed with evergreens and the hills. They had been traveling for quite some time now. Ron and Harry polished off the remains of today's lunch, which consisted of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs (Harry got Ptolemy and Morgana, Ron got Merlin and Flamel), Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Pepper Imps, and Licorice Wands. Ron and Harry had been portraying fearless knights battling with the Licorice Wands, circus performers breathing fire (somehow, they had managed not to burn the train), and brave wizards tasting Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "I'm going to change," said Hermione, getting up and going out the door. "Ron? What time is it?" Harry asked. "'Round half-past two," Ron replied cheerfully, but sleepily. "We'd better change into our robes, too," Harry suggested, getting up and fishing his robes out of his trunk. "Ron? Ron? Ron?! RON! Get up, mate. Change into your robes, it's seven already." "Mah---fummphmmmph mm ahhsssh," Ron replied, his breathing fogging up the windows. He was asleep.
[Much later]
"RON! GET THE HELL UP! HOGWARTS IS A HALF HOUR AWAY! YOU CAN SEE THE CASTLE ALREADY! RON!" Harry said, waving his hand in front of Ron's face. Hermione, disturbed from her book by this, shoved Harry aside, and slapped Ron. "Hermione! What is your problem?" Hermione blew. "MY PROBLEM? I HAVE A PROBLEM? RON, YOU HAVE BEEN SLEEPING SINCE—SINCE EARLY AFTERNOON! IT'S—ITS—" Hermione paused, checking her watch. "IT'S HALF TO 9:00! YOU CAN SEE HOGWARTS! VERY CLEARLY, NOW! GO CHANGE! AND—AND EEEEEEEEEEK!" Pig was rolled up, crushed and purple from being against Ron's side from being slept on. "Ron, I don't believe it! You've killed Pig!" Hermione said, wringing her hands and her robes. Harry scratched his head. "Er, Hermione, he's still breathing. Look, see, Pig's alright. I think." Then Ron sat up, alarmed. "What have I done to Pig? What time is it? Harry? Hermione?" Harry pulled Ron up, so Hermione could gently extract Pig from his tight spot. "Oi! Pig! What've I done? Harry, what happened?" Hermione clucked at Pig, running a finger over his purple chest, now turning back chestnut. "Just go change into your robes," Harry said, handing them to him. "Why'd you sleep so much?" Ron blushed. "Oh, well, I stayed up finishing my holiday homework—by moonlight." "Why didn't you light a candle?" Hermione said, handing Pig out the window.
"What're doing, Hermione? You want Pig to blow away?" "He's getting fresh air. I bet he'd be glad of breathing something else besides Chocolate Frog breath for the past few hours," She replied, chuckling. "Ron! Go change! Skedaddle!" Harry said, shooing Ron out of the compartment. Hermione set Pig back into the seat and closed the window. "Why didn't you go to Ron's this summer? Did Dumbledore say no?" "Yeah, Ron wrote to me, something about Dumbledore saying it's not safe—with Voldemort up again." "Speaking of You-Know-Who," whispered Ron, striding in with his robes on. "Did you here from Sirius this summer?" "Yeah, he owled me. The letter said that I'd see him soon and that another letter would come, explaining more. But that letter never came, and I never saw Sirius—or Snuffles at all." "Strange, Sirius isn't one to break promises, right?" Hermione replied. "He could have sent you another letter saying why he didn't show, right, Harry?" "Or maybe the De-dementors caught up to him," Ron said fearfully. Harry nodded. It was a possible explanation. He tried to look on the bright side. "Look! There's Hagrid!"
They stepped off the train, Harry in thought about Sirius, Ron finishing a last Chocolate Frog, and Hermione pinning her Prefect badge to her chest. "Ah, 'Ermione! A prefect this year, eh?" Hagrid boomed, raising his lantern for the first years to see. "Hermione, you're a prefect? Like Fred and George said, 'it takes the fun out of life'. Hermioneee, don't leave us for rules and stuff like that," Ron pleaded, dropping to his knees and clinging to her robe sleeve. "Hermione? When'd you get the letter? And why didn't you tell us?" Harry said, dragging Ron up. "So you wouldn't talk me out of it," she snapped, prying Ron off of her. "Firs' years this way! C'mon, now, firs' years this way!" Hagrid boomed, and Ron, Hermione, and Harry ran off towards the other Gryffindors.
Bewildered, each Gryffindor climbed aboard a very odd-looking sleigh, with no horse. Harry, Hermione, Ron and Neville (with Trevor clamped tightly in his hands) climbed aboard, waiting for the sleigh to move. It didn't move. "Er," said Harry. "I wonder what's wrong?" Hermione replied, staring up into the velvet sky. "Do—do y—you think we—we're in tr-trouble?" asked a nervous Neville. Ron turned to him and said in a joking manner, "Oh, Neville, de—EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"screamed Ron. The sleigh moved, up and towards Hogwarts Castle. "Blimey!" said Ron. "You'd reckon that sleighs flew, nevertheless that Muggles exist." Hermione punched him in the shoulder. "Only joking, only joking!" Then Neville, fearfully, said the worst news to have been possibly received during a flight in a sleigh. "Hold on—where's Trevor? I swear I was holding him, I swear." He broke down into loud, wet sobs. "Oh, Neville, you couldn't have possibly lost Trevor—in this condition, I mean," said Hermione hastily. Ron and Harry peered over the sides of the sleigh as well as around it and on the floor. No Trevor. "Aw, Great Uncle Algie's going to kill me," said a teary Neville, wiping his tears aside to look for Trevor. Hermione stood up. "Well, it's no good use to just grope blindly around the dark of the sleigh. You have to come prepared." And with that, she whipped out her wand and muttered Lumos! and the sleigh was bright with light. "Now, any sign of Trevor?" she asked, moving her wand around the sleigh. "Neville, we'll come back and look for him, or ask Hagrid to help you. Wait, Neville, hold on. We're landing," Harry said, gripping the side of the sleigh tightly as the sleigh lowered itself alongside other sleighs. They all jumped out. Neville went over to Hagrid and the other three set off into the Great Hall.
Filing in, they saw Dean, Lee Jordan with a rubber chicken along with Fred and George, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillan (who gave a wave to the three), Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Lavender Brown, who was gossiping with Parvati Patil, giggling madly. "Ron! Harry! Hermione! Over here! Dean!" shouted Seamus Finnigan, jovially waving and his head pumping up and down. Professor McGonagall was leading the rather long line of first years up the Hall, glancing back once or twice.
"Stay here, please," said Professor McGonagall, trudging up the hall with stool and hat in hand. "Now when I call your name, please sit on the stool and place the hat on your head. When it is finished, you will seat yourself at your House table. Now, Anion, Boudicca!" Boudicca walked, trembling, placed the hat on her head, and waited. A moment later—"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted. "Atkins, Robert!" "HUFFLEPUFF" "Brenner, Julianne!" "RAVENCLAW!" "Brown, Lillian!" "GRYFFINDOR!" Lavender could be seen hugging her sister, who was eyeing Fred and George. "Cotswold, Martin!" "SLYTHERIN!" Gryffindor clapped loudly. "Connery, Eugenie!" "HUFFLEPUFF!" "Connery, Frederica!" "SLYTHERIN!" "Connery, Georgette!" "GRYFFINDOR!" "Dem-Grade, Monica!" "SLYTHERIN!" Ron turned to Harry. "When are we going to eat? I'm starving!" "Oh, shut it Ron," said Hermione, clapping for "Enright, Alexander-John" ("RAVENCLAW!"). What seemed like hours later, Professor McGonagall ended with "Weatherly, Thomas". ("Oh, thank Merlin!" said Ron)
"Harry, look! A new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" Ron said, pointing to a middle-aged, healthy-looking witch chatting with Professor Sprout. She sat between Professor Sprout and a very ruffled-looking Professor Trelawney. "A woman Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Fred. "This'll be an interesting year," said Seamus. "What?" said Hermione, getting annoyed. "Women aren't capable of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?! Let me show some women power…the rise of the witches when Anne Boleyn was accused of adultery and being a witch…you know…misogyny…hatred of women…Adam and Eve for Christians…Pandora for the Greeks…you know…Mary I, burning the Protestants…some were accused of being witches…the Salem witch trials in Boston…those women held fast to their innocence," she pointed out. "And the American women who wanted the right to vote…women are determined, Fred, Ron, Seamus…" Harry squinted. She looked familiar… the elderly witch…he had seen her somewhere, sometime…just where?
Dumbledore rose, cleared his voice, and got everyone's attention. "Welcome back, and welcome to all of you. This year, the Inter-House Championship is—" Dumbledore was interrupted by Fred, George, Lee, Harry and Ron, all emitting whoops of delight. "—taking place once again, also the Quidditch matches." He paused. Fred, George, Harry, and the rest of the members of the Quidditch teams erupted in loud whoops. "Now, to begin again. Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Gryffindor and Ravenclaw will need new teammates, as some have left us. Tryouts are to be announced, the Dark forest forbidden to all students, once again. And, in closing, as you all are very hungry—" Dumbledore was interrupted by a grumble in Ron's stomach. Ron's ears flushed scarlet. "Thank you, Mr. Weasley, for demonstrating what I said before. Also, I am very pleased to announce our new Defense Against Dark Arts teacher— Professor Notswick!" Some clapping sounded as Professor Notswickrose and bowed. Dumbledore began as the noise died down. "Now, fill ye heart and soul." Food appeared and music was made, as the forks and knives clattered and talk broke out.
Hermione spoke. "Do you think we should visit Dobby and Winky? I'm a bit worried about Winky. You know, after, erm, last year," she said, passing George the gravy tureen. "Whoa, 'Er-my-knee, don't you think—" Ron swallowed. "Are you going to start up on that spew stuff of yours again? Because if you do, you might as well—" "It's not spew, Ron, it's—" "We know already," Harry interrupted, and winked at Fred and George and Ginny. "Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare!" they all said, causing a smile to light up on Hermione's face. "That could be a part of our presentation! You know, to convince the rest of the school! Ooh, that would so fun! Let's see, what would we need? Well, first, permission from…" she trailed off lost in her thoughts of elf liberation. "Summer holiday has done some damage to our dear Hermione," said Ginny, laughing with the others. Soon the plates cleared and a second later, dessert appeared, from treacle tarts to peppermint fudge to frosted root beer floats. In not much time, the Hall was filled with satisfied groans and a clatter of forks and spoons being dropped on the tables.
"Come now," said a cheerful Dumbledore. "Off to bed! Your schedules and things are in your houses already. Prefects, lead the way, please!" Hermione turned to the first years and said, "First year Gryffindors, FOLLOW ME! Now keep close, don't get lost. And if you do, get the Fat Friar or Nearly Headless Nick, alright? Watch out for Peeves and the Bloody Baron, though. Ready? Follow me! And, Lillian, you'll see your sister in the morning." Harry and Ron followed Hermione's group to Gryffindor Tower, where the Fat Lady sat in her painting, snoozing with a bottle of butterbeer in her hand. "Er..." said Hermione, turning to the fascinated first years. The Fat Lady awoke, much to her embarrassment. "Password?" "Biddy Faye," said Hermione, and stepped inside as the portrait swung forward. Ron and Harry ran to their room, with Neville, Seamus, and Dean behind. The last thing Harry heard was Hermione droning on about rules and bedtime and…oh, even Percy wasn't this informative…maybe Hermione's just paranoid or nervous. Find out tomorrow…Harry rolled over and slept, his dreams once again dwelling on his parents, Voldemort and Dementors.
"HARRY! RON! WAKE UP!" screamed Neville, yanking the covers off. Then he proceeded to go to Dean and Seamus' beds. "ARRRRRRRRRRRRRGG! Who in Hell is taking my blanket—" "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGG! NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVILLLLLLLLLLLLLLE! Geroff me!" said Seamus, snatching his blanket back and rolling over, asleep again. "We're going to be late—for breakfast and Snape! You know Snape—we'll get a month's detention!" said Neville shrilly, almost like Hermione. "Snape?!" said Ron incredously, rubbing his eyes. "Oi! Harry! We've got Snape first thing in the morning! Harry? Harry!" "Whassa matter?" Harry replied groggily, waking from another one of those memories. "We've—got—Snape—first thing—in the—morning!" choked Ron and Neville. "WHAT?!" yelled Seamus and Dean, pulling on their robes and grabbing their books. Harry and Ron did the same, flung open the portrait door and scrambled down to breakfast.
"Where have you been?" hissed Hermione, reading Year with the Yeti again. "Look! The mail!" said Ginny, pausing to look up at the wave of owls flooding in from nowhere. Hedwig came, bearing a large package and a letter. It was from Sirius, but Moony also. 'Snuffles sent me my birthday present, and look here, Moony sent stuff, too," said Harry, untying the package from Hedwig's legs. A gray thing came hurling at them three, splashing milk and pumpkin juice. "Open—oy, Ron, it's—it's Errol." She poked the gray mass gently, and Errol gave a weak hoot of assurance before Ginny pushed her goblet of pumpkin juice for him. Another weak hoot of thanks and Errol drank, then flew off with Hedwig supporting his wing. "Poor bird," said Ginny, wiping her goblet and pouring more juice. "He's so old; and I just want him to be happy, let him free of the pain…" Harry's package was open and it contained two presents: a heavy bronze bowl the size of a soup dish. Inside it was a note. One from Sirius, and one from Lupin. Ron and Hermione each took one and read aloud. "Well? What do they say?" asked Harry. Hermione handed hers to him, which was Sirius' letter.
Dear Harry,
Sorry about my not seeing you over the summer. I had to lie low at Moony's house, because of the Dementors. They are ever more suspicious nowadays. I must be hidden. I got you your birthday present. It's a Mini-pensive, and I hope you like it. Bring the date of the next Hogsmeade trip with your next owl. Luck on your O.W.L.s, your mother would kill if you didn't go well...
Love,
Snuffles
P.S. Moony sends best wishes and told you to be careful with the Marauder's Map.
"We've got study for our O.W.L.s, we take them this year!" said Hermione shrilly, stuffing Year with the Yeti back into her bag, and pulled out A History of Magic: Deux, by Bathilda Bagshot. "Hermione, we've got all year to study for O.W.L.s! Hermione?" said Ron, frantically waving his hand at her. She barely looked up. "Ron, I do wonder what your Mum'd say if you didn't do well," Hermione said gently, eyeing Ginny. "Yeah, Ron, remember Fred and George?" Ginny replied, elbowing him. "Of course. Hermione, give me that book. I'm facing de-gnoming gardens for life if I don't pass," he replied, reaching for A History of Magic: Deux.
"Ron, you have your own," said Harry, examining the Pensive. "Hermione? You know about ancient runes, right? Can you tell me what it says here?" He pointed to the rim of the bowl. There were stick-like forms carved into the bronze. "I'm not too sure, it might take a while. I'm not that advanced at Runes enough to do 1st century Rune decoding. But I'll try," responded Hermione, getting up from the table. "We have…Potions first thing in the morning," she said, glancing at the rest of her schedule. "C'mon, Harry, you tell me who's awake at nine in the morning, eh?" said Ron. They set off for the dungeons.
Malfoy was already there, a smirk on his pallid face and Crabbe and Goyle on either of his sides. "Back, Potter? And Weasley! Ahh, new robes this year, eh? What, Daddykins won the lottery again?" he said, pleased to see the red in Ron's ears. Ron lunged. Harry and Hermione held him back, saying that Malfoy wasn't worth all this. Ron clenched his fist, then he walked into the dungeon and sat deep down in his chair, so only his bright ears were seen. "Today we shall begin—Weasley! Sit up or it'll be fifteen points from Gryffindor for not paying attention. And fifty, if need be," drawled Professor Snape. "Filthy bastard," muttered Ron as he sat upright. "Oh, Ron, just shut it," Hermione said. "You don't fifty points from Gryffindor this early on, do you?" "As I was saying before, today we shall begin our study on alchemy," said Professor Snape, his eye wandering over the class. "Can anyone, besides Miss Granger, tell me what alchemy is?" Hermione, whose hand had been up since Professor Snape had said alchemy, took her turn to sink in her chair. "Longbottom? Any idea? A guess even?" said Professor Snape, advancing on Neville. "Honestly, I reckon that the thick skull of yours should be able to process such a question. How about—Malfoy? Malfoy, what is alchemy?" Malfoy smirked. "Alchemy is the power of changing something common, like wood, into something precious, like gold."
Malfoy smirked again as Snape awarded Slytherin ten points. "Pfft," said Ron. "Don't feel so bad about it, Hermione. You're better than Malfoy any day," said Harry, awkwardly patting her shoulder. "Thanks, you guys," replied Hermione. After an hour (or what seemed a century) of taking notes on attempts of alchemy by Muggles and the basic reasons of alchemy passed, the bell rang, and they filed out, yawning and complaining about the two rolls of parchment they had to write for homework. "Two rolls of parchment! On the uses of alchemy! There are, like, three!" roared Ron, shaking Harry vigorously. "R-r-r-r-Ron, l-l-l-l-et-let g-go of me, you prat," said Harry shaking Ron off and adjusting his bag. "Two rolls aren't that hard, Ron," said Hermione gently. "But you're smart, Hermione! You need a bit of studying and poof! You have 12 O.W.L.s! Harry and me need to study like hell, dammit!" Ron and Hermione argued all the way to History of Magic, with Harry chiming in occasionally. "You know, Ron, Hermione, why don't you play it out in a game of chess?" Harry suggested. "Alright…" replied Hermione. "Muggle Chess!" "NO, Hermione. Wizard Chess," responded Ron. "Muggle!" "Wizard!" "Shut up!" said Harry. "Mister Wisely, I suggest you and Miss Grant keep the noise down, we are about to learn about the Salem Witch Trials in America in the 1600s. Now, please take a seat and let us begin," interrupted Professor Binns, opening his textbook and coughing when the dust flew out. "In Salem, a few girls, aged between 12 and 18, decided…" Professor Binns droned on. People were nodding and napping. Neville snored, but Harry put a book to stifle the sound of the snores.
