They arrived at school just as it began to rain, and Harry heard grumbles
from the other students as they ran hilter skilter across the grounds and
into the Enterance Hall, laughing as they all shook water from their hair
and robes. Harry did not bother running, he loved the rain, it seemed to
always reflect his personality at the time. This random downpour which
ended as swiftly as it had begun was not unlike the feelings of despiration
and dispair which rose and abated randomly. His hair was plastered against
his forehead and the hem of his robes dripped with precipitation when he
joined his peers at the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione were perched beside
each other at the head of the Griffindor table, with much of the rest of
Harry's friends dotted beside them, the younger years placed further down
the table. Harry slipped in between Neville and Dean, looking
automatically to the Teacher's table in an attempt to spot any new teachers
There had been rumours that Professor Brinns, the spectre history of Magic
teacer had finally been replaced by a living teacher, but When the Ghosts
all swept through the Hall, Harry clearly saw the dreamy-looking professor
speak quietly to Dumbledore before sweeping out again. Harry looked to
either side of Dumbledore, and blinked in supprise, the spot which had
always been occupied by Professor McGonagall, the severe yet brilliant
Tranfiguration teacher and head of Griffindor house, was hosting a handsome
young wizard Harry didn't know, although there was soemthing faintly
familiar about him. His hair was flyaway, dusty blonde, almost brown and
his face supported high, defined cheekbones with a pair of sharp grey eyes
that was scanning the Hall at that moment. Harry frowned slightly and
stared openly at the stranger, when their eyes met, Harry had the stranges
feeling that he was a ghost and wasn't supposed to be there. The young
Professor did the hugest double takes Harry had ever seen someone do, and
his face drained of colour. However, Dumbledore seemed to be ontop of
things, and said something to the man which Harry took to be a good thing,
for the colour returned to his cheeks and he dropped his head into his
hands, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Harry was scanning the table
for any more new faces, when the Great Hall doors swung open with a mighty
bang, and Hagrid swept in cold, wet and terrifyed first years into the
castle.
Professer Snape rose when the first years had reached the front of the Hall,and cleared his throat ominously. Harry stared at him with annoyance, what did he think he was doing? Interupting the sorting ceremony was not on. However, silence fell immidiately, as it always did when Snape commanded attention. It was then that Harry remembered who always did the sorting ceremony, and it so happened that Professor McGonagall was not present, apparently she had retired. The only sound in the Hall was that of Snape's boots on the stone floor as he moved around the table, and stood beside the stool that supported the very batterd but strangely proud little black hat. As always, the Hat seemed to give a little chuckle to itself, before ripping a hole in its brim, and bellowing its song to the school.
Another year, another class, You're not the first and not the last. Your special in a different way, To those that come and those that stay. If Griffindor you'll leave your mark, By bravery and show of heart. If Hufflepull you'll always be, Sweet and Kind as would ever be. My Slytherin's will always know, When to come and when to go. My Ravenclaw's have always been, The sharpest minds you've ever seen. But hold not you heart upon your sleve, For darkest times have yet to leave. The sun is just around the bend, You have your powers yet to lend. There is a war but don't you fret, I know it isn't here yet. Teach and lean as swift as swift, Or in between the worlds you'll drift.
There was scattered applause when the song was ended, mostly from the first and second years who had not been listning properly. Many of the older students were casting furtive glances to each other, and to Dumbledore. "Abbian, Marcus" Snape's quiet, commanding voice broke through the muttering. Harry rested his elbow's on the table and watched as the first years were shown their houses, applauding with the rest when his house gained a boy or girl. Once the last boy, Zair, Jacob, had been accepted into Slytherin, Snape sat back into his own seat, and his eyes met Harry's briefly, in a look of impassive nochalance. Harry was quite glad that there was not the uaual amount of malice in the Professor this year, he wondered how long that would last. "Well, the hat has certainly caused a stirr this year." Came a cool, sweet voice from behind Harry. The dark haired boy closed his eyes amd smile greatfully, leaning back against the strong, broad chest of Lance Trooper. No words were said, but everyone shoved up when they realised that Harry and his boyfriend were going to sit together. There was a certain amount of respect you held for the boy who was destined to save the world, even if you didn't really believe what Dumbledore had told them at the start of year feast last year. Lance was a tall, broad and perfectly co-ordinated boy of 17, his body like that of a Rugby player, perfectly shaped and with muscles to die for. His hair fell in that rougish, careless way which fell limpy into his face, occasionally brushed back by one sweep of his hand, or an irittated toss of his head. His eyes and hair were the colour of dark chocolate, addictive and strong. Harry had never felt as protected with Lance as he had with anyone else, even when he had been watching Dumbledore fight Voldemort and been hidden behidn the great, headless, golden wizard. Lance had that aura, the kind, loving, brave personality that drew people to him, made them love him. Even Draco Malfoy had found it hard to insult the golden boy when Lance had surfaced from obscurety to Harry's side. "Yes, well I wish it would put more emphisis on Harry's role in this thing, no one seems to be taking Dumbledor seriously." Ginny snapped, smiling politely at Lance. "That it probably why it didn't put any emphisis on Harry, veryone is getting sick of Harry Potter this and Voldemort that." Lance said softly, smoothing out Ginny's temper within the first word. "Personally, if I was Dumbledor, I would do something thid year to deliberately take everyone's mind off the War." Everyone present agreed, but if they had anything to say on the matter, they did not have chance, because at that moment The headmaster himself rose and cleared his throat imperiously. "Welcome to Hogwarts, and for those of you who are spending your first year here, I do hope you find your stay here pleasant." His eyes seemed to sparkle from beind the half-moonglasses. "I shall bore you with speeches later, now, however, let the feast begin." And his hands waved. There were squeals and yelps of delight from the first years, but before they had even got over the initial shock, the rest of the school was already filling their plates with all types of food. "...and so I just said, fuck off mum, I'm almost eighteen, I can bloody well choose my own girlfriends" Dean was saying on Harry's left, and Harry arched one brow sceptically, jumping when he found his mouth full of yorkshire pudding. He turned his head and scowled at Lance who was holding his fork. "What was that for?" Harry complained once he had swallowed his mouthfull. "Well, you need fattening up, and you were too busy eaves dropping." Lance replyed, and wiped gravy from Harry's chin. Harry grinned and leaned forward to kiss his lover's cheek. "I missed you" He heard Lance mutter. "I love you" Harry retorted, and their hands clasped under the table, they remained leaning against each other like that unil the feat endd, both of them were full, and eager to get away from public. The conversation was just beginning again, when Dumbledor rose and tapped his glass with a teaspoon. "Just a few words and notices to give you before you retire. It is my greatest pleasure to welcome our new Transfiguration teacher, Professor Walker. He will be replacing Professor Minerva McGonagall who I am sure many of you will miss, but she descided the time had come for her to retire." He paused and cleared his throat quietly. "Also, I would like to welcome back Remus Lupin as Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher. As some of you may remember he very kindly filled the position three years ago. Unfortunately he could not attent the feast today." Hermione glanced at Harry and jerked herhead up sugestively. Harry tilted back his chin and looked to the simulated sky, he was supprised to note that it was full moon. He usually remembered the full moon. He had known Lupin was to teach here, for he had been offered the job when Harry was at his inherited house. It was the thought of that that reminded him of Sirius. It had taken Harry almost a full year to go back into the dark, gloomy old house, where everything remind him of his Godfather. "Harry, time to go." He heard a whisper in his ear, and allowed Lance to pull him to his feet. Hermione, as Head Girl, had to hurry away to a meeting, and Ron was forced to guide the sleepy first years to the common room. Harry and Lance dodged away,and dissapeared down the hall, slipping swiftly behind a statue to wait for the Hufflepuff's group to pass by. Harry felt a hand on his ass, and swatted at it playfully, Lance grinned and pulled Harry down the corridors once again, loosing them in the mases, and eventually finding the prefetcs bathroom. Lance had been told the password because he was a prefect. "Valor is a virtue" he whispered, and the door swung open. Harry could barely control himself, he was tearing at Lance's clothes, feeling his own robes being thrown carelessly to the floor as they pushed hungrily towards each other, craving each other. It had been so long. Harry pushed himself out of the water which was quite cool by now, and picked up his robes sleepily. He knew he would regret staying up so late tomorrow, but he couldn't care less right now. He was watching Lance in the water, his suple, athlete's body gliding like the prefect predator, his deep mocha eyes glstning with emotion as he watched Harry slip into his robes, smile a goodbye, and quietly return to their common room. They had found that by spacing their return to their house, people were less concerned about what they had been up to alone, together. So Harry usually went first, and he arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady when he relised he did not have the password. Cursing himself for his stupidity, he crouched on the floor and waited, hoping Lance had more brains athan his boyfriend. "Harry?" came a familiar, unexpected voice. "Hermione?" Harry asked, and stood up stiffly. "Where have you been?" "I could ask the same of you." She smiled, observing his wet hair and the fact that he was practially glowing. "Dumbledore wanted me and Malfoy to do some little tasks for him, I had not relaised how much work went into being Head Girl. Damn it, I hate that dick head more than anyone I've ever met." Harry blinked at her sleepily. "Dumbledore?" "No, Malfoy!" She laughed and slung an arm over his shoulder, adressing the portrait. "Clear Thinking" She announced, and the woman in the painting nodded, swinging open and allowing the two sleepy Seventh years to go to bed, relieved that the day was over, and the year could begin.
Professer Snape rose when the first years had reached the front of the Hall,and cleared his throat ominously. Harry stared at him with annoyance, what did he think he was doing? Interupting the sorting ceremony was not on. However, silence fell immidiately, as it always did when Snape commanded attention. It was then that Harry remembered who always did the sorting ceremony, and it so happened that Professor McGonagall was not present, apparently she had retired. The only sound in the Hall was that of Snape's boots on the stone floor as he moved around the table, and stood beside the stool that supported the very batterd but strangely proud little black hat. As always, the Hat seemed to give a little chuckle to itself, before ripping a hole in its brim, and bellowing its song to the school.
Another year, another class, You're not the first and not the last. Your special in a different way, To those that come and those that stay. If Griffindor you'll leave your mark, By bravery and show of heart. If Hufflepull you'll always be, Sweet and Kind as would ever be. My Slytherin's will always know, When to come and when to go. My Ravenclaw's have always been, The sharpest minds you've ever seen. But hold not you heart upon your sleve, For darkest times have yet to leave. The sun is just around the bend, You have your powers yet to lend. There is a war but don't you fret, I know it isn't here yet. Teach and lean as swift as swift, Or in between the worlds you'll drift.
There was scattered applause when the song was ended, mostly from the first and second years who had not been listning properly. Many of the older students were casting furtive glances to each other, and to Dumbledore. "Abbian, Marcus" Snape's quiet, commanding voice broke through the muttering. Harry rested his elbow's on the table and watched as the first years were shown their houses, applauding with the rest when his house gained a boy or girl. Once the last boy, Zair, Jacob, had been accepted into Slytherin, Snape sat back into his own seat, and his eyes met Harry's briefly, in a look of impassive nochalance. Harry was quite glad that there was not the uaual amount of malice in the Professor this year, he wondered how long that would last. "Well, the hat has certainly caused a stirr this year." Came a cool, sweet voice from behind Harry. The dark haired boy closed his eyes amd smile greatfully, leaning back against the strong, broad chest of Lance Trooper. No words were said, but everyone shoved up when they realised that Harry and his boyfriend were going to sit together. There was a certain amount of respect you held for the boy who was destined to save the world, even if you didn't really believe what Dumbledore had told them at the start of year feast last year. Lance was a tall, broad and perfectly co-ordinated boy of 17, his body like that of a Rugby player, perfectly shaped and with muscles to die for. His hair fell in that rougish, careless way which fell limpy into his face, occasionally brushed back by one sweep of his hand, or an irittated toss of his head. His eyes and hair were the colour of dark chocolate, addictive and strong. Harry had never felt as protected with Lance as he had with anyone else, even when he had been watching Dumbledore fight Voldemort and been hidden behidn the great, headless, golden wizard. Lance had that aura, the kind, loving, brave personality that drew people to him, made them love him. Even Draco Malfoy had found it hard to insult the golden boy when Lance had surfaced from obscurety to Harry's side. "Yes, well I wish it would put more emphisis on Harry's role in this thing, no one seems to be taking Dumbledor seriously." Ginny snapped, smiling politely at Lance. "That it probably why it didn't put any emphisis on Harry, veryone is getting sick of Harry Potter this and Voldemort that." Lance said softly, smoothing out Ginny's temper within the first word. "Personally, if I was Dumbledor, I would do something thid year to deliberately take everyone's mind off the War." Everyone present agreed, but if they had anything to say on the matter, they did not have chance, because at that moment The headmaster himself rose and cleared his throat imperiously. "Welcome to Hogwarts, and for those of you who are spending your first year here, I do hope you find your stay here pleasant." His eyes seemed to sparkle from beind the half-moonglasses. "I shall bore you with speeches later, now, however, let the feast begin." And his hands waved. There were squeals and yelps of delight from the first years, but before they had even got over the initial shock, the rest of the school was already filling their plates with all types of food. "...and so I just said, fuck off mum, I'm almost eighteen, I can bloody well choose my own girlfriends" Dean was saying on Harry's left, and Harry arched one brow sceptically, jumping when he found his mouth full of yorkshire pudding. He turned his head and scowled at Lance who was holding his fork. "What was that for?" Harry complained once he had swallowed his mouthfull. "Well, you need fattening up, and you were too busy eaves dropping." Lance replyed, and wiped gravy from Harry's chin. Harry grinned and leaned forward to kiss his lover's cheek. "I missed you" He heard Lance mutter. "I love you" Harry retorted, and their hands clasped under the table, they remained leaning against each other like that unil the feat endd, both of them were full, and eager to get away from public. The conversation was just beginning again, when Dumbledor rose and tapped his glass with a teaspoon. "Just a few words and notices to give you before you retire. It is my greatest pleasure to welcome our new Transfiguration teacher, Professor Walker. He will be replacing Professor Minerva McGonagall who I am sure many of you will miss, but she descided the time had come for her to retire." He paused and cleared his throat quietly. "Also, I would like to welcome back Remus Lupin as Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher. As some of you may remember he very kindly filled the position three years ago. Unfortunately he could not attent the feast today." Hermione glanced at Harry and jerked herhead up sugestively. Harry tilted back his chin and looked to the simulated sky, he was supprised to note that it was full moon. He usually remembered the full moon. He had known Lupin was to teach here, for he had been offered the job when Harry was at his inherited house. It was the thought of that that reminded him of Sirius. It had taken Harry almost a full year to go back into the dark, gloomy old house, where everything remind him of his Godfather. "Harry, time to go." He heard a whisper in his ear, and allowed Lance to pull him to his feet. Hermione, as Head Girl, had to hurry away to a meeting, and Ron was forced to guide the sleepy first years to the common room. Harry and Lance dodged away,and dissapeared down the hall, slipping swiftly behind a statue to wait for the Hufflepuff's group to pass by. Harry felt a hand on his ass, and swatted at it playfully, Lance grinned and pulled Harry down the corridors once again, loosing them in the mases, and eventually finding the prefetcs bathroom. Lance had been told the password because he was a prefect. "Valor is a virtue" he whispered, and the door swung open. Harry could barely control himself, he was tearing at Lance's clothes, feeling his own robes being thrown carelessly to the floor as they pushed hungrily towards each other, craving each other. It had been so long. Harry pushed himself out of the water which was quite cool by now, and picked up his robes sleepily. He knew he would regret staying up so late tomorrow, but he couldn't care less right now. He was watching Lance in the water, his suple, athlete's body gliding like the prefect predator, his deep mocha eyes glstning with emotion as he watched Harry slip into his robes, smile a goodbye, and quietly return to their common room. They had found that by spacing their return to their house, people were less concerned about what they had been up to alone, together. So Harry usually went first, and he arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady when he relised he did not have the password. Cursing himself for his stupidity, he crouched on the floor and waited, hoping Lance had more brains athan his boyfriend. "Harry?" came a familiar, unexpected voice. "Hermione?" Harry asked, and stood up stiffly. "Where have you been?" "I could ask the same of you." She smiled, observing his wet hair and the fact that he was practially glowing. "Dumbledore wanted me and Malfoy to do some little tasks for him, I had not relaised how much work went into being Head Girl. Damn it, I hate that dick head more than anyone I've ever met." Harry blinked at her sleepily. "Dumbledore?" "No, Malfoy!" She laughed and slung an arm over his shoulder, adressing the portrait. "Clear Thinking" She announced, and the woman in the painting nodded, swinging open and allowing the two sleepy Seventh years to go to bed, relieved that the day was over, and the year could begin.
