A/n: Sorry if you didn't get an e-mail notifying you of this update. FanFiction.Net is being really irritating, and I am unable to access two of my reviews for this fic, and five for my other, Tears of the Phoenix. I've e-mailed them three times, and they still refuse to answer. They are annoying people. If anyone could help me, if you know how, I'd appreciate it beyond words. Here's a long chapter. Unfortunately, though I said you'd be getting whole chapters, you won't be. You'll be getting half chapters again, but that's only because future chapters are two long to upload in one. They exceed the word limit. One chapter is thirty eight pages. Still, be happy, because if it wasn't for HTML, you'd be getting that one in four parts insead of two. :-) Please review!
::: 6 :::
Destiny's Return
For Harry and Hermione, the summer seemed to pass them by in a state of perfection. They spent almost all their days in the clearing, doing whatever felt right. Harry would climb the rocky incline and reach the source of the waterfall while Hermione would sit in the shade and do what she was most famous for—studying. Yet nothing was as simple there as it was back in the sanctuary. The smallest of tasks and adventures seemed like the most exciting things imaginable. It was hard to force themselves to leave. Here, nothing existed for them to worry about. They were both eleven years old again, back in the times before evil existed in their world in the form of Lord Voldemort. Harry turned sixteen, but it felt almost as though he were getting younger and more carefree.
At the sanctuary, things were different. The atmosphere was heavy and tense. Attention was always focused on things such as the Death Eaters and raids. Hermione seemed to withdraw back into herself the moment they returned there. Sirius set up a permanent Portkey that allowed them to go back and forth between the sanctuary and the clearing whenever they pleased without having to bother the adults. The problems with Apparition through the barriers had been fixed, but none of them had forgotten the tampering. No one had anymore leads on Lucius Malfoy or the escapee Wormtail.
No news had come about the brewing war between the Muggles and the wizards. Muggles continued to attack wizards and their news was filled with such stories. The Ministry of Magic, however, seemed to be biding their time. There hadn't been any news for weeks. Not even Dumbledore knew anything. All he said was that the war was coming and just because they heard nothing did not mean all was calm.
To top it all off, Harry and Hermione were almost able to put out of their minds the odd visions and dreams they'd been sharing. With the exception of the occasional shared nightmare, they were no longer plagued by these frightening things. When they told Dumbledore of this, he had frowned deeply, as though this were a bad thing. He had offered no information, though. Harry was able to set Dumbledore's reaction aside and just enjoy the days that passed. However, he could never quite get the feeling out of his mind that this was all the lull before the storm.
Sooner than either would have expected, Hogwarts loomed before them and they found themselves lying the in clearing on the final night before they were to return to school. Hermione was not reading for once, instead just lying on her back in the grass, staring up at the fading light of the sky. Harry was sitting next to her, inspecting the Pioneer's Map for the hundredth time since he'd acquired it months before. Despite his promise to tell Sirius and Remus that he'd found it, he never had. He couldn't bring himself to risk losing it.
He looked around himself at the odd way that the trees of the clearing radiated light but everything beyond was dark and filled with shadows—the actual Forbidden Forest. He'd considered leaving the clearing to go exploring before, but he had always held back for fear that he would not be able to return to the clearing and would be lost in the depths of the Forbidden Forest. The first time he'd mentioned the idea of leaving to explore to Hermione, she had called him insane and threatened to curse him if he did try to leave.
Finally, Harry cleared the map and set it aside. He looked down at Hermione. Her eyes were closed, but she was clearly not sleeping. He could feel the one worry that had been plaguing him all summer rising up again. All the time he'd spent with Hermione in this clearing had only served to further his feelings for her. She, however, still showed no interest in him as anything more than a friend. He'd spent countless hours debating whether or not to tell her how he felt. In the end, he'd never managed it, even now that she seemed so much like her old self. It made him disgusted at his own lack of courage, but still he held back. He was scared that she would turn away from him if he told her how he felt and he couldn't stand to lose her as a friend. It was growing steadily more difficult to say nothing.
Hermione spoke up. Her voice was quiet, but it filled the clearing easily. "I guess tonight's it, then. We'll never see this place again."
"Sure we will," Harry contradicted. "We've got the map, and I'm sure I can use it to find my way back here. If my dad could do it from Hogwarts, so can we, especially with the map to help us."
She made a small sound of agreement and the two lapsed into silence once more, watching the stars slowly emerge above them. "So," began Harry after a few more seconds, "what do you think of going back to school?"
Hermione pushed herself up to a sitting position and looked at Harry seriously. "I'm nervous," she replied. "I mean, what will everybody think? How will they react to seeing me again? What if they're like Rita and think I was a traitor?"
Harry put his arm around her and she rested her head on his shoulder. "Don't worry about them," he told her. "The Slytherins will have a great time picking on you, but they did before any of this happened. There might be the occasional few from the other Houses that don't trust you, but the people there know you, Hermione. Anyone who truly knows you would know that you did not betray them willingly. I can assure you that no Gryffindor will turn against you."
"I guess," muttered Hermione, but she looked far from convinced as she shredded a piece of long grass absentmindedly.
"Don't dwell on it," advised Harry. "Think about seeing Ron and Hagrid again. That will be nice, won't it?"
She nodded, smiling a little. "Yes. Much of an annoyance as he can be, I've grown to miss Ron. Hagrid, too."
She seemed to be more at ease, though Harry knew that his few words had not helped much. Still, she did not show it and the two sat together comfortably, talking of other things until the sliver of a crescent moon was high in the sky and they could barely see one another any longer. Finally, they found it in their hearts to stand and reach for the Portkey to take them back, leaving behind the clearing in the Forbidden Forest.
Harry had expected to see packing and a state of hurried disarray when he got back. However, everyone seemed just as calm as if this were any other night. He frowned at this. Professor Figg and Dumbledore had to return to Hogwarts just like he and Hermione, and Sirius had hinted that he and Remus would be around the school as well on special assignments. So why wasn't anyone getting ready to leave the next morning?
Dumbledore saw them head in and walked over to greet them. He smiled at them, his eyes twinkling. "I trust you're both ready for the train tomorrow morning."
Harry nodded. "Yes, Professor." Remembering his confusion a moment earlier, he added, "I was wondering though—why isn't anyone else getting ready to return?"
"A good question, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I am sorry to say that due to the ongoing responsibilities that the Order of the Phoenix demands, I will not be at Hogwarts much this year. I will, of course, return periodically to make sure everything is running smoothly, and to pay the old place a visit. However, for the most part, Professor McGonagall will be acting Headmistress this year. As for Professor Figg, she is needed here and cannot fulfill her duties as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I have allowed the Deputy Headmaster of this year to appoint a new professor for that particular subject."
"And who is the Deputy Headmaster?" asked Harry, an odd feeling of apprehension dawning.
"Professor Snape," said Dumbledore.
"Snape?" Harry demanded, horrified. "You're letting him pick a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"
Dumbledore nodded, a slight warning in his humbled features. "Yes. I trust Severus beyond a doubt. I know the two of you have had problems with him in the past, and I am not about to defend his acute hatred for you, Harry. It is indeed misplaced, but he is loyal nonetheless. Miss Granger, you must admit that Snape helped you last year."
She nodded, looking a bit bitter. "Yes, I suppose. But he's still horrible—his personality certainly hasn't improved."
"Be that as it may, whomever Severus deems worthy, I will give a chance. Now, you two had best turn in. You've got a big day tomorrow. I will be there for the Sorting and the feast, at which I will tell the rest of the school what I have told you of my other obligations."
Harry and Hermione nodded, still thunderstruck that Snape was to be choosing the new teacher. "Oh, and Miss Granger?" called Dumbledore, making them stop and turn to look at him once more. "Would you like to keep the books I've placed in your room?"
Hermione's eyes widened. "Keep them? Oh, Professor, I couldn't . . ."
"Nonsense. Of course you can. As Headmaster of Hogwarts, it is my job to provide learning for my students. I have no hesitation in saying that you are the most dedicated student in the school and I am happy to donate those books to help your education. You never know, they may end up coming into use. I've never used them much anyway."
"If you're sure . . ."
"I am indeed."
"Th-thank you!" she stammered, smiling brightly.
"I will see that they are delivered to Hogwarts and placed in your dormitory," said Dumbledore, giving her a smile. He pulled from his pocket two envelopes and handed one to each of them. "I have some other news I think you might be happy to hear. Do open them."
Harry ripped open his envelope in a quick, messy manner, while Hermione neatly opened it under the flap. Both ended up pulling their papers out at the same time. Hermione, being the fast reader she was, was the first to let out a small squeal of delight. Harry's face broke into a grin as he read:
Dear Mr. Harry Potter:
I am proud to inform you that you and fellow Housemate Miss Hermione Granger are to be fulfilling the duties of sixth-year Gryffindor Prefects this year. Congratulations on your excellent behavior over past years and your leadership skills.
Sincerely,
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore
As Harry looked up from his with a smile, Dumbledore began to speak. "I had intended to make you both Prefects last year, but I felt that with your involvement with The Key, Miss Granger, you would not want yet another responsibility to take on. Mr. Potter, I felt that the two of you should be Prefects together, as you are a remarkable team, so I waited to make you one as well. I hope you do not mind."
"Not at all," said Harry pulling out a shiny silver Prefect badge. "I'm surprised I even made Prefect, with all the detentions I get."
"While everyday school behavior and rule-abiding does indeed have an impact on who is chosen, I seek more than that. I look for students who can lead well and who will set good examples for their fellow students. I want students who have their hearts in the right places. While you have certainly broken rules in the past, Harry, you have always done so for a good reason. I don't doubt for a moment that you will perform admirably."
Hermione was grinning broadly as she and Harry walked back toward their rooms. Harry, while feeling a great happiness at the fact that he was a Prefect with Hermione, was still deep in thought. He couldn't get the staffing problems out of his mind. "Snape," he muttered. "Assigning a new teacher. Can you say 'disaster'?"
"Oh, it can't possibly be that bad," replied Hermione. "Snape's a horrible man, I'm not capable of denying that. However, if he's that bad, it's not like any new teacher could be worse, right?"
"Don't be so sure," countered Harry. "Remember the fact that Snape is a Death Eater turned good. Look at who he's associated with—Karkaroff, for one. Who knows who he'll assign? Could be another ex-Death Eater. I don't think Hogwarts can handle that. I, for one, cannot handle two Snapes and I'm pretty sure Ron would sooner jump out of the North Tower than have to put up with two Gryffindor-hating teachers with personal grudges."
"Stop speculating," said Hermione firmly. "You're probably making a big something out of nothing. Besides, we'll find out tomorrow. So just put it to rest." They had long since stopped in front of the two doors that led to their bedrooms and now Hermione turned the handle of hers. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah," agreed Harry, turning and heading into his own dormitory. He knew Hermione was right—knew that imagining the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher as some horrible monster wasn't helping anything. Still, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Five years of knowing Snape simply wouldn't allow his mind to stop.
He double checked that he had everything ready for the next morning and set his Prefect badge proudly on his table before climbing into his bed—which Hermione had changed back to red and gold—and closing his eyes, praying that sleep would come easily.
* * *
Far away, in a small shack in the dangerous part of a Muggle neighborhood, two figures were hunched over a steaming cauldron. Red, swirling smoke wafted up slowly, and crimson light stained the walls of the shack. One man sat in a tattered old green chair, which was covered in claw marks from the cats that would sometimes seek shelter in this abandoned place. His chin rested in his hand as he watched the gradual simmering of the cauldron. Another hunched man was working feverishly, mixing the bubbling liquid within it.
"How is it coming, Wormtail?" asked the man in the chair.
Wormtail whimpered. "As well as it can be, sir. We are still missing several key ingredients."
"My informant is taking care of that. He's gotten himself right where he needs to be. We'll have the ingredients soon."
Wormtail's eyes widened. "Even the girl?"
The man sneered at Wormtail. "You are pathetic. We don't need her—we just need a part of her. Certainly, I would take great pleasure in capturing her and repaying her for everything she's done to us, but that will come in time. I have a much better plan."
"Perhaps it would simply work better to capture her on her way tomorrow, Lucius—"
Lucius Malfoy stood and glowered down at Wormtail, his eyes rabid. "I did not break you out of Azkaban to second-guess me, you sniveling excuse for a servant! You will do as I say and you will not address me by my name! You called Voldemort your master, did you not? Well, I am your master now, and soon I will be twice as great as Voldemort ever was! You do not want to make such mistakes!"
"Yes, master," he whimpered, hiding his face.
"You do not know half of what I do. To take her now would not only be pointless, but a waste of a wonderful opportunity. We will wait and bide our time. Soon, we will have what we need—and more than I ever imagined when I first set out on this quest. Keep stirring! This potion needs to be ready when the time comes. It all begins tomorrow, Wormtail—the first part of the plan is now being set into motion. And this time no one will be able to stop me."
* * *
The next morning was less hectic than Harry would have imagined. They ate breakfast and dragged their trunks out into the main area. Sirius was getting ready to Apparate them onto Platform 9 ¾, and Dumbledore was to come directly to Hogwarts later.
They arrived at the train station with ten minutes to spare. Harry hugged his godfather goodbye and Sirius left them with his best wishes for the new school year. Harry and Hermione casually side-stepped through the barrier and found themselves facing the familiar red and black steam engine.
Harry fumbled to put on his Prefect badge with one hand—something he'd neglected to do earlier—while Hermione scanned the crowds nervously. He could see she was hanging back more than she normally would have and he gave her a distracted grin. "Don't worry—things will be fine."
She noticed his troubles. In his right hand was Hedwig's cage. In his left was his badge, which he was trying and failing to attach. He swore as he stuck himself with the pin and Hermione smiled at him. "Oh, here," she said, grabbing the badge and putting it on neatly and quickly.
"Thank you. Bit of a nuisance, that thing," he muttered, rubbing his chest where he'd stuck himself.
They continued through the crowds, searching for Ron. It wasn't long before they spotted the familiar crop of red hair standing at least a head above the other, younger students. He saw them before they saw him, but they found each other quickly nonetheless.
"Long time no see, guys!" he exclaimed, bending down to give Hermione a hug. "It's been half a year. I feel like a stranger."
Hermione laughed. "You've grown," she commented.
"You've shrunk," countered Ron dryly. His eye caught the Prefect badge and he groaned. "I should have known. Prefect compartment's down that way. Ginny's the fifth year female Prefect. Another shame to the Weasley family." He grinned to show he was kidding and Harry knew that he was proud of his little sister.
Ron turned to Harry and the two grinned at each other. "Nice owls you've been sending, pal. How long has it been—a month and no word?"
"Sorry. Been busy, I guess. Hermione's forced me into studying more often than I'd like to admit to," said Harry. He absentmindedly rubbed the adjusted the collar of his robes and Ron groaned, catching sight of Harry's Prefect badge.
"Oh, you must be kidding. I'm surrounded!" he groaned. "My sister and my two best friends. I can see Ginny and Hermione—they're the perfect students. But you? After everything the two have us have done? After the flying car? And knocking out Snape?"
Harry had to laugh at Ron's dampened expression and hurried to intervene before he listed every last one of their misadventures. "Come on. You can show us where the Prefect compartment is and sit with us."
"I'm not a Prefect. I'm not allowed."
"Come anyway," insisted Hermione. "It's been forever since we've seen each other. We're not going to sit in separate compartments, too."
"Prefects are supposed to adhere to the rules, not break them," teased Ron, but he led them through the dispersing crowds anyway. By the time they reached the Prefects' compartment, which was the second car after the engineer's car at the front, it was packed with Prefects. Ginny smiled and waved at Hermione and Harry when she saw them and fought her way over to the door.
"You're a bit late," she said, motioning at all the other kids, some of whom waved at the trio, while others ignored them entirely.
"Gee, thanks for pointing that out, Gin," said Ron sarcastically. Ginny gave him a scowl and an eye roll before turning her attention back to the other two.
"You don't have to sit in this compartment—it isn't required, it's just an option." She glanced at the clock behind the trio, which read eleven fifty-seven. "You'll have to find a different one, and fast, I might add. I'll see you at school, then."
After Ginny had dragged the compartment door closed, the three rolled their trolleys quickly down the train, searching for empty compartments. At long last, they found one near the end. They just barely managed to throw all their things inside before the train began to pull away from the platform.
As Harry and Ron sat down, Hermione struggled to unlock the door of Crookshanks's cage. A moment later, the cat flew from the box onto the ground, relieved to be free of his prison. He looked up at Ron with the angry scowl he usually reserved for the boy. Ron scowled back with a look at Pig, who was bouncing around his cage like a feathery ping-pong ball. Hedwig watched him from her cage with a look of disdain.
Hermione sat down next to Harry once her cat was free. Ron had stretched out lengthwise on the seat across from them, using the duffel bag he was carrying for a pillow. He gave Harry and Hermione a grin.
"What?" asked Hermione a moment later.
He just laughed a little and shook his head. "Nothing at all. It's just great to see you." Hermione accepted this and nodded, picking up her ginger cat and cuddling him. Harry, however, was not quite so willing to let Ron's comment—which was obviously a lie—go. He raised his eyebrows. Ron's eyes flicked to Hermione and back to him, causing Harry to turn red in the neck and look away. Ron was hard pressed to keep his laughter contained.
"I'm kind of glad we got our own compartment," commented Hermione. "I didn't really want to be around all the other Prefects. I'd much rather just be around you two."
Ron nodded understandingly. Hesitantly, he asked, "So, how have you been?"
"Ron, I appreciate that you haven't mentioned anything of the sort until now. Don't start," she warned. "I am beyond tired of everyone tip-toeing around me and asking me how I feel every ten minutes."
Ron gave her a sheepish grin. "Sorry."
"We've got a ton to tell you," commented Harry, changing the subject quickly. He rummaged in his trunk for the Pioneer's Map, finally locating it and pulling it out. He made it appear and handed it to Ron with a wide grin.
Ron, with a look of confusion, accepted the parchment and looked it over. A moment later, he began grinning widely. He shook his head and laughed in wonderment. "I can't believe it! It's like the Marauder's Map, only for the Forbidden Forest. How cool is that?"
"If only Fred and George could see this, eh?" said Harry, grinning back, Ron's happiness contagious.
"They can." Ron glanced up at his two friends with a mysterious grin. "They've opened their own joke shop in Hogsmeade over the summer. Just as good—if not better—than Zonko's. We'll be able to visit them anytime we like!"
"Not necessarily," contradicted Hermione. "We'll have to wait for the first Hogsmeade visit, which is traditionally sometime around Halloween."
"Not true. We've got the Marauder's Map and my Invisibility Cloak, haven't we?" asked Harry mischievously. "We could go tomorrow. It's not like Fred and George will rat us out. Are you kidding? They'll be impressed."
"You see," began Ron, "this is why Hermione is the Prefect type and you are not. That's a compliment, by the way, Harry."
"Why, thank you," said Hermione dryly, rolling her eyes. She picked up one of the books she'd taken from Dumbledore's bookcase and opened it while Harry launched into the story of their summer.
For the majority of the ride, Harry and Ron chatted animatedly about everything from Quidditch to the Pioneer's Map. Hermione read most of the time, rarely even looking up at either of them. While those who did not know her would have assumed she were angry with the boys, or simply indifferent to their very existence, Harry knew that her silence symbolized her nerves. Despite everything he'd said to reassure her, she was still very insecure about what was to come when they arrived at Hogwarts.
Just as the overhead lights in the compartment flickered on as they did when it became too dark to see from natural light, the door to the compartment slid open. Harry and Ron looked over and even Hermione glanced up from her reading. Strutting arrogantly into the compartment was Pansy Parkinson, followed faithfully by fellow Slytherin sixth-year, Blaise Zabini. Harry was strongly reminded of Draco as Pansy began to smile menacingly. But Draco had one thing over Pansy and the rest of his House—he had changed in the end, something most Slytherins could never hope to do.
"Get out of our compartment," snarled Ron.
"We were just walking," said Pansy evenly. "Looking for an empty compartment."
"Oh, please. You obviously have found a compartment by now, as we've almost reached Hogwarts anyway," said Hermione sarcastically. "Tell the truth or get out and allow us to return to what we were doing." To emphasize her point, she picked up her book and began to read again.
"Coincidentally, we were here to see you," said Pansy, sauntering casually over to stand over Hermione. It was clear that she was trying to look intimidating, but Hermione hardly glanced up, let alone appeared frightened. Harry couldn't help but think, as he looked at Pansy's build, that she would make a good girlfriend for Dudley. They were certainly alike when it came to bullying—and in the way of size as well. They'd have a problem should they try to kiss, though, thought Harry. All the fat on both sides would provide quite the barrier.
"Oh?" asked Hermione uninterestedly. "Whatever for?"
Pansy scowled down at Hermione. "As if you didn't know. Despite what lies you may try to fabricate, we know the truth about you. All of us Slytherins do."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "What, you think that I'm really a Death Eater traitor as well? Wouldn't that please you, as the lot of you are Dark supporters anyway?"
Pansy clenched her fist and Ron and Harry immediately tensed, preparing to leap to their feet. Hermione, however, remained unfazed as Pansy started in again. "A pathetic Mudblood like you would never be capable of betraying the Light side to the Dark Lord—I'm not that stupid."
"Oh, let's not even get started down that road," Hermione muttered under her breath in response to Pansy's last remark. She didn't catch it. Harry did, and had to work hard to conceal a laugh.
"However, Draco was the best of all us Slytherins. Now he's dead. Nobody has said how it is that he died." She glowered. "I—and many of my friends—have a theory about that. We think that you killed him."
"Is that the best theory that all the brains in your House could come up with? That's not exactly complimentary. If you want to know the truth, here it is: Draco betrayed us all at first and Dark was about to take over. I'm sure you would have loved that, but he began to feel guilty for all he'd put me through and decided to stop his father from killing me. We were roped into running from the Dark Lord and something happened. Draco changed. In the end, when we were about to be destroyed by Voldemort, Draco stepped in front of a curse and sacrificed himself for me. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
Pansy and Blaise laughed. "That is your story? What a sad lie. Draco would never sacrifice himself for any Mudblood—let alone you." Pansy's smile vanished and she scowled. "You killed him and we won't stand for it. Watch your back, Granger, because this year is going to be hell for you. We'll make sure of it." She glanced at Harry and Ron. "Maybe not here, in front of precious Potter and Weasley, but you'll get it. We can be patient." With that, Pansy and Blaise backed out of the compartment, still watching them carefully.
As soon as the door was close, Harry and Ron started in on her. "Are you okay?" asked Harry anxiously.
"Calm down, I'm fine," she muttered. Her face was rather pale and Harry could see from his close vantage point that her hands were shaking just a little. He put one of his hands over hers and raised his eyebrows. "I'm fine," she repeated fiercely. "It's Pansy—she's full of empty threats and empty of any intelligence."
"Yeah, but not all Slytherins are," said Ron uncertainly.
"I can take care of myself, guys," she said, a hint of warning in her voice. "I'll be fine. Ignore Pansy and her friends. I'm the one she threatened and I'm not having much problem with it." She picked her book up again, but her eyes didn't skim the pages, instead staying trained on one spot.
Harry studied her closely. If there was one thing he'd learned from past months with her, it was that if she didn't want to show anyone she was frightened or hurting, she wouldn't. Suddenly he felt a blazing pain in his skull and he gasped slightly. It wasn't coming from his scar—just his head in general. He rubbed his temples, but this was not the end of it. A moment later, he heard thoughts in his head, thoughts spoken clearly in Hermione's voice: Ron's right. Even if Pansy is no more intelligent than Crabbe or Goyle, there are a lot of Slytherins that are. And if they think I killed Draco, who was revered by all of his House . . .
The pain in his head faded with the thought and he looked at Hermione, his eyes wide. She became aware of his gaze and looked up. Their eyes locked and Hermione could see the panic in his. Harry remembered that time, many months ago, in Dumbledore's office when he'd received Hermione's thoughts. He'd forgotten all about it. Now it was happening again.
"Harry, are you okay?" asked Ron, looking at him strangely.
Harry nodded quickly. "Yeah. I'm fine. I just have a slight headache, that's all."
Ron didn't seem to accept this, but he was stopped from replying by the train beginning to come to a slow halt. Harry busied himself with collecting his things and Hermione ushered the spitting and clawing Crookshanks back into his cage. His eyes met hers again during all this and she mouthed the word, "Later." He nodded.
They dragged their trunks out into the darkness and headed for the carriages. They spotted Hagrid some distance away calling for the first years, but he was distracted by a boy who was panicking loudly at the thought of going in boats across the lake and didn't notice them.
Soon, the three had everything loaded and were being pulled across the grounds at a comfortable canter. Harry had become quiet after the odd occurrence on the train and said nothing on the ride. Hermione was quiet also, both from confusion and her worry after Pansy's threat. Ron tried and failed to make small talk, so the majority of the ride was silent.
They abandoned their supplies in the entrance hall and continued into the Great Hall. It was only half-full yet, so Harry, Ron, and Hermione managed to find good seats at Gryffindor table. They were greeted by many people along the way. As they passed the first years gathering in the entrance hall, Harry felt his cheeks redden as the familiar whispering began and eyes whipped to his scar. However, Harry noticed that many of the kids were also looking at Hermione with what could only be described as awe.
It was an unfamiliar sensation for both of them, taking their seats. Many younger students that they'd never met came up to them to shake their hands. It appeared that Harry's fame had been renewed by his defeat of the Dark Lord, and it was obvious that Hermione was now being revered as well. Dean, Neville, and Seamus were sitting nearby and gave them both salutations. "Don't let some people get to you," Seamus advised. "You deserve every bit of praise you get, and anyone who criticizes deserves to be thrown to the giant squid."
However, with the exception of the dirty glares and angry scowls thrown their way by the Slytherins, it appeared that everyone was quite in awe of them. Justin came over to say hello to Hermione when he arrived, giving her a proud grin and Harry a thumbs-up. Jenna, who was now in second year and just as shy as ever, came over just long enough to apologize for ever doubting Hermione's loyalties.
With all the attention the two of them were getting, Harry sent a worried glance at Ron. He was looking a bit put-out that he was being ignored, but he just gave Harry a small grin. Harry hoped this wasn't going to come between them like Harry's fame had in their fourth year. With Hermione receiving attention as well, it might make it even worse. Harry decided he would make it a point in the future to tell anyone who asked that Ron was just as much a part of it as he or Hermione—without him and Sirius, Hermione might have died before he could have gotten her to help. The thought made his stomach twinge in a very unpleasant way.
Finally, the talking died away as Dumbledore clapped his hands at the Head Table. Everyone gave him their attention. "Welcome, Hogwarts students!" he announced, smiling broadly. "I am proud to say that Hogwarts is officially repaired and ready to be in session once more!"
Applause rang out through the great hall, accompanied by cheers and whistles and Harry, Hermione and even Ron got pats on the back by their fellow Gryffindors. All this died away the moment Dumbledore began speaking once more.
"As I see that many of you already realize, this could never have happened without three students who sit before us—as well as one who does not—that risked everything to stop the Dark Lord and at long last succeeded. I speak of Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley, who sit right now at Gryffindor table." Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff all began to clap again. The Slytherins stared menacingly their way, but did not dare make sounds of disapproval in front of Dumbledore and the teachers. "I cannot, of course, leave out the one student who risked everything and in the end lost it to save us all. Without him, I doubt that any of this could have come to pass. I speak, of course, of Slytherin student Draco Malfoy."
There was mixed response to this. Some Slytherins clapped while others glowered. Pansy, who had for years fancied Draco, burst into tears. There weren't many people who responded to this at the other tables, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione made sure to make a big show of clapping themselves.
"These four students are a few of the bravest the wizarding world has ever seen. We owe them our freedom and safety. We owe to them the destruction of Lord Voldemort. I hope you appreciate the sacrifices they have made to put you where you now sit." Dumbledore glanced around them all and not a single soul missed being touched in some way by his words.
"On the more traditional notes . . . Due to my responsibilities elsewhere, I will not be here much during this year. During this time, Professor McGonagall is to be Headmistress. Professor Snape will fulfill her old position as Deputy Headmaster." Slytherins and Gryffindors began clapping, each for their respective professor. McGonagall smiled at them all while Snape just surveyed them with a look of arrogance furthered only by his higher position. "They will continue to teach their usual subjects. For the same reason as I, Professor Arabella Figg will not be with us this year. Our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is Professor Adair Rusdorn. If you would please stand up, Adair . . ."
A tall man, who was sitting beside Snape, stood. He had chestnut hair that was layered and messy. One section of his bangs seemed to stay in his left eye no matter what head movements the man made. His eyes were a startling blue, and he was deeply tanned. He smiled at them all warmly, lighting up his face brilliantly. He was extremely handsome. He certainly seemed pleasant enough, Harry decided. He wasn't ready to set his doubts aside, though.
Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who were sitting just a little ways down from the trio, sighed dreamily. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, please," she muttered.
"Don't be a hypocrite, Herms," teased Ron. "Need I remind you of Professor Lockhart? You were just as bad as they are. And let's not leave out Krum."
"Okay, I made a mistake with Lockhart, can you ever forget that? I was twelve!" she muttered, her cheeks flushing red. "But I did not go out with Krum because he was handsome!"
"Right. It was because he was a famous Quidditch star."
"I think not! And I warn you, if you keep this up, I will not hesitate to curse you!"
Ron was not ready to give up. He grinned at her. "If you didn't like him because he was handsome, then why did you break up with him?"
"That's none of your business," she snapped. "But if you must know, he was extremely boring. He had very little intelligence, leaving us with very little to talk about. All he wanted to discuss was Quidditch and the two of you know how I become quickly uninterested on that particular topic. He was nice enough—which was why I liked him at first, I may add—but he just wasn't my type intellectually."
Ron nodded and smiled. "I knew I'd get you to tell me why sooner or later." Hermione gave an exasperated sigh and muttered something Harry and Ron did not catch—though it sounded suspiciously like, "You are incorrigible, Ronald Weasley!"—only to turn her attention back up to the Head Table, looking rather flustered.
Dumbledore continued. "Aside from that, I would like to remind all sixth years that your O.W.L.s will be taking place two weeks from tonight and there will be the traditional Prefect meeting after we finish the feast. I remind all Prefects that you are first to take the students to your Houses, then return to Professor McGonagall's office for the meeting. That being said—dig in!"
Food appeared before them all and everyone grabbed at some. Ron heaped his plate with two of everything while Hermione shook her head in exasperation at his never-ending appetite. Harry grinned at her expression and she returned his smile somewhat sheepishly.
Harry ate in silence, the thought of what had happened on the train—both to Hermione and to him—worrying him. Unfortunately, the one night he chose to be silent and withdrawn was the same night that everyone else chose to pay more attention to him than they had since his first few days here. Colin Creevy, ironically, was the most subdued of them all. He gave the older boy no more than a small smile and a, "Nice job, Harry." Harry wished for the days when Colin would have been jumping up and down and snapping photos of every bite Harry ate, for he knew exactly what had Colin so depressed—the death of his brother, Dennis. Harry immediately felt guilty. He'd managed to help so many, but he couldn't save Colin's little brother. He knew his guilt was unfounded—obviously he could not save everyone. But this fact didn't stop him from sinking even further into himself.
Hermione was also rather quiet during the meal, giving small smiles and quiet replies, but also giving off the impression that she'd rather be alone. She picked at her food and barely ate a bite. Harry hadn't seen her go off food since the first few days he'd met up with her over the summer. It made him long for those days in the clearing—somehow, something within him couldn't allow him to call it the name his father had given it—when she'd been so happy. When they'd both been so happy.
It seemed to take hours for the meal to end and when it did, Harry and Hermione were forced to meet up with Ginny and Colin, the fifth-year Prefects of Gryffindor, and lead their House up the seven flights of stairs to Gryffindor Tower. Once again, Harry was stuck with Colin, making him feel beyond awkward. The young boy, usually so overfilled with energy, was very withdrawn. His eyes were downcast and he said nothing to anyone. Ginny stuck by his side most of the time, saying nothing either.
When they reached the portrait hole, Harry realized that he and Hermione did not know the password. He looked to her, puzzled, but Ginny spoke up, talking mainly to the first years. "This is the entrance to our House common room. The password changes periodically, and you will be informed when it does. For now, the password is gertsbobbers. First years please follow us through. Older students may continue to their dormitories."
Harry and Hermione stayed with Ginny and Colin, though it was Ginny who did all the talking. Ron left them in the common room, giving Hermione a simple, "goodnight,"; telling Harry: "I pity your poor soul, pal. Prefect meetings . . . ugh."; and giving Ginny a peck on the cheek. As Ron normally did no such thing in the privacy of his own home, let alone in front of a whole pack of kids, Harry could only suspect he'd done it to embarrass Ginny. It worked, as Ginny had turned bright red and snarled at Ron vehemently to go to bed.
At long last, once the common room was cleared, the four Prefects headed back out the portrait hole. Hermione grabbed Harry's arm as he was about to leave, holding him back. When Ginny and Colin looked back at them in confusion, Hermione had called, "Tell Professor McGonagall we'll catch up." Once they were out of sight and the Fat Lady's portrait had swung shut, Hermione took a seat on one of the red velvet couches.
"It's time we talked about what happened on the train," said Hermione. Harry was uncertain and looked out of the corner of his eye at the portrait hole. Hermione saw this and snapped, "You sit down!" Knowing better than to argue with her when she was in such a temper, Harry took his seat next to her.
"What is there to talk about?" he asked evasively.
"Why are you so hell-bent on not telling me?" she demanded. "Judging on your reaction, I'd say it's another one of those visions, or daydreams, or whatever has been happening to us. If I'm right, why is it so hard to tell me? Haven't we gone through all this together?"
Harry nodded. "Yes. It just hasn't happened in so long . . . I didn't want to bring it back up for you needlessly."
Hermione sighed and gave him a small smile. "You're very sweet, Harry, but you don't have to protect me. Just tell me. It will be easier on the both of us."
Harry nodded. Choosing his words carefully, trying to make it sound important, but not frightening, he told of his reception of her thoughts during the train ride. He mentioned how the same thing had happened months before. She blanched at this and nodded slowly. "Yes, I was thinking that," she confirmed. She buried her face in her hands. "Now we're seeing each other's thoughts. First of all, having someone read my mind is not ideal in the least. Second, now all this is escalating even further."
Harry looked at her, slightly hurt. "You don't think I'd read your thoughts intentionally, I hope?" he asked. "Never. That's a complete invasion of privacy. It was an accident, I don't know how it happened and I certainly can't control it."
Hermione looked up at him and shook her head rapidly. "No, of course not! I trust you, Harry. I'm just saying . . . it feels weird, that's all."
Harry could think of no more to say, so he stood in an attempt to kill the awkward moment. "Come on. McGonagall's going to be furious with us." Hermione nodded and the two headed out the portrait hole.
The Fat Lady called after them, "School Prefects this year, are you?" Her voice was warm and happy, and the two didn't have the heart to walk away.
"Yes," agreed Hermione, giving a small, forced smile.
"Good for you, then!" she proclaimed, smiling brightly. "And a wonderful job you two did last year. I'm proud to have you as students of my House. You are truly an example to the name of all wizards. You, in particular, Miss Granger. Surviving the harshest is part of what Gryffindors are famous for—but something only a select few can actually do."
Hermione nodded and gave another fake smile, and she and Harry headed off down the corridor at a fast pace to reach the Transfiguration room. Harry grinned at her in the semi-darkness of the school hallway. "Now you know what it's felt like for me all these years," he commented.
"Bit overwhelming, isn't it?" she asked in a small voice. "All these people I don't even know congratulating me on something I regard as my most awful memories. People I do know looking up to me as though I'm higher than them. I don't like it at all."
"Welcome to my world," said Harry.
They walked for a while in silence, and then Harry broached the delicate subject. "So you really are worried about what Pansy said."
"No," she denied, "I'm not worried about a petty threat." She stopped and seemed to consider for a moment. "And I'm being a fool lying to you about something you read from my own mind." She was quiet for a moment before nodding a little. "Yes. Not so much Pansy, but the Slytherins in general. I know all too well what their type are like."
"Don't worry," said Harry, his voice harsh. "If anyone messes with you, Ron and I will hex them into next week."
"Harry, I can take care of myself! How many times do I have to tell you?"
"Just think of it this way—Ron and I are helping you protect yourself."
Hermione sighed and smiled at him a little. "There's no way I can win this argument, is there?"
"Not one."
"All right, then," she sighed. "You win. But promise you'll at least discuss your revenge plans with me first. I don't want you getting expelled for my sake."
"I thought you knew us better, 'Mione. Over our years, Ron and I have become experts at escaping the threat of being expelled! You don't have to worry about us."
She laughed and they walked the rest of the way in silence avoiding the topic that was weighing on both of their minds—the occurrence on the train.
McGonagall was less than thrilled when they walked in ten minutes late. All the other Prefects—four from each House, with the exception of Gryffindor, who only had Ginny and Colin right then—were already seated and glared at them. "You're supposed to be setting examples, Mr. Potter! Being late to your first Prefect meeting does not do that. You watch yourselves—Prefects can be changed at any time."
Despite her threat, Harry wasn't all that worried. Gruff and harsh on the exterior, McGonagall had a good heart with a special place in it for Hermione. Harry figured she might have a semi-special place in there somewhere for him as well, but he'd never been entirely sure.
The Prefect meeting could only be described as dull. Though Hermione was listening attentively the whole way through, Harry had slumped down in his chair with his eyes half-closed by the time the meeting was half over. He couldn't help but think that perhaps Ron was right—the life of a Prefect was not for him. Well, the bathroom is worth it at least, he thought with a final yawn as he nodded off.
He awakened to a sharp prodding in the side sometime later. Looking around himself, he found that he was the only one still in his chair. Hermione was shaking him awake and McGonagall was staring down at him. Under her gaze, he leaped to his feet. The world spun around him from standing too fast, but he showed no signs of it.
"It was nice to have the both of you with us," said McGonagall with a smile to Hermione. She gave Harry a bemused look. "And Mr. Potter, boring as meetings may get, I ask you to please remain among the conscious next time. Miss Granger, I trust you'll fill him in on what was said?"
"Yes, Professor," agreed Hermione.
McGonagall gave Hermione a pat on the shoulder. "It's good to have you with us again." She smiled at Hermione brightly, and Hermione nodded a little.
Harry left the room hurriedly in case McGonagall decided to lose her good temper and begin deducting House points. Hermione followed a moment later at a more leisurely pace. She shot him a grin. "Have a nice nap, then?"
"Wonderful. What was it, ten minutes?" Harry said nothing more as they walked up the stairs to Gryffindor. Harry was dead on his feet from exhaustion and Hermione lagged behind him some, walking at a much slower pace.
Finally, the reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who grumbled when they awakened her. "First the fifth-year Prefects, now you two! Do try to stay together next time. It's bad enough to be awakened once, but twice? Now go to bed!" With that, she swung open, still grumbling angrily.
"Goodnight, Hermione," said Harry softly when they reached the common room. She returned the comment and bounded off up the girls' stairs. Though she didn't seem depressed, she was definitely more reserved and withdrawn than she had been. Despite his exhaustion, Harry fell to a seat on the couch and stared into the roaring flames of the dying fire. He'd thought that coming back to Hogwarts, his one true home, would make everything easier. But it appeared that the solace the summer had provided was indeed past them now and the troubles were rearing their ugly heads again.
Harry dragged himself up the stairs and into his dormitory, falling into bed with a tired sigh. Of the other four boys, Ron and Neville were snoring loudly on opposite sides of the room. Dean and Seamus had the hangings on their beds drawn back and were talking quietly by the light of Dean's wand. They gave him small waves as he entered, which he was too tired to return. Not even bothering to change his clothes or pull off his shoes, he fell into a deep sleep with the prayer that tomorrow would hold better things.
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A/n: I'm currently a few chapters ahead of where you are. Page 188 to be exact. I haven't even begun to really scratch the surface at that far into it. This fic will be longer than Destiny's Path, which was a round 260. Much longer. Like 350 or something. Also, there are no lyrics in this chapter because I couldn't find any to fit what happens in this one. Any suggestions?