Standard Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to: Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, and Raincoast Books, and Warner Brothers, Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The only things owned by the author are any character's not previously mentioned in the Official Harry Potter books and the plot, all else are property of J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers Inc.
Chapter Word Count: 5376
Author's Notes: Just to let you know, I'm not overly happy with the Sorting Hat song for this chapter, as I no longer feel it adds enough to the story, and it doesn't quite fit in with the general feel of the story. Eventually I'll get around to re-writing it (hopefully), and I'll leave a note in the newest chapter when I've updated this one. On another note, I've edited/updated the first couple of chapters and added responses to reviews.
Chapter Five – Solaris
The Grand Hall shimmered with the light of a thousand candles floating in mid-air, high above the four long, house tables. The enchanted ceiling gave the impression of a starry night sky, with not a single cloud obscuring the breathtaking view. Four people strode towards the righter-most table, choosing to sit down halfway along its glorious length. The gleaming wood showed a conglomeration of light reflections. A few seconds after the group reached their destination, a large black dog came bounding towards a door beside the staff table, slowing only enough to prevent itself from colliding headlong into it. It reached out a hairy paw and let itself into the small room that lay beyond.
Not long after this, a procession of teachers came sidling out of the room and casually wandered towards their seats. Harry recognised Professors Sprout and Flitwick conversing quietly, as they always did at feast time. As the empty space in the hall dwindled, students finally passing through the doors, Harry was filled with a sense of foreboding. Recalling from the letter he had received on his birthday, he remembered that there were three new teachers this year, instead of just the usual vacancy of Defence Against The Dark Arts. Both Hagrid and Professor Snape were on secret missions for Dumbledore, and Harry could only guess at what they might now be doing.
'I wonder what the new teachers look like,' he thought silently to himself. Gazing towards the staff table, he noticed that six seats were unoccupied. 'Well I know Dumbledore and McGonagall aren't here and there are three new teachers starting but who's the sixth seat belong to?'
His question remained unanswered, for the headmaster stalked in, cleaving his thoughts in half. Two tall, attractive women, and the man Harry had seen earlier, Jonathan's father, followed. The shorter of the women—who had lustrous, long brown hair—reached Hagrid's usual place, and pulled out her wand. She shrank the oversized chair down to a size she could safely sit on without her feet dangling over the edge. She pulled tight her blood red robes round her and gracefully lowered onto the seat. Looking around the hall, she smiled, gazing over the enamelled walls and the stained glass windows—a distant look in her chocolate brown eyes.
While Harry had been openly staring at the woman, another pair of eyes had been watching him beadily. From a crack in the window near the Slytherin's table, a small rodent sat watching the Boy-Who-Lived. Its whiskers quivered and a glint of light bounced off of a silvery object. The rat's front right paw held a silvery consistency, like the ghost of a real paw. In fact, it was something magical, restoring what was needed to allow its master to be reborn. Watching the white-haired headmaster sit down at the head of the staff table, the rat decided to leave. It had gathered enough information that night. It too had noticed the black dog that had entered the room at the end of the hall. It too knew who the dog was.
Albus Dumbledore was conversing politely with Professor Sinistra when he sensed the essence of another wizard within the Great Hall. The presence was small and wavered, but it was there nonetheless. Preparing to use his mind to search out the location of the uninvited visitor, he noticed a glimpse of something small and furry disappear through a cracked window. He did not see, however, the silvery paw.
'Strange,' he mused. Filing the event away in his memory, intending to visit the thought via his pensieve later that evening, he returned to his talk about the way the planets were aligning themselves. He always enjoyed the opinion of other, fellow stargazers.
"Well, I met Ron in Madam Malkins'. I was getting my robe length re-adjusted and in walked this tall, handsome wizard that I'd never had a chance to meet properly before."
Vicky was telling Harry and Hermione how she and Ron had discovered each other. Ron was confused, however, as he asked Vicky, "Who was that then? I don't remember anyone like that coming in. It was just Fred, George and me."
Laughing at Ron's stupidity, Vicky continued. "Well Fred was just the most gorgeous man I'd ever laid eyes on—" Ron's jaw cracked off of the table. "—I'm joking! God, maybe it would have been better if I'd talked with Fred that day!"
Harry and Hermione simply shared a knowing glance, Harry keeping the gaze longer than Hermione, as she had turned back to Ron, smiling mischievously. 'I love that smile,' thought Harry.
"Harry!"
Someone was calling him.
"Harry, wake-up—the Sorting's about to start." Ron had been pulling on Harry's arm, trying to get his attention.
"Sorry, Ron. I was just thinking about something."
"Whatever it was, mate, it must have been good. The grin on your face; you could win Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award with that…"
Interrupting the conversation, and silencing each and every person in the room, Minerva McGonagall led a group of quaking first-years towards the front of the Hall. Harry recognised a small black girl as the one Jon's father had called earlier. The Weasley twins' best friend, Lee Jordan, pointed out, "Ha, that's my little sister! She's wanted to come here since I started. 'No Elyn, not until you're eleven,' my parents always had to tell her."
Elyn Jordan was, apart from her looks, like Hermione in every way imaginable from first glance. As Hermione had done, all those years ago, Elyn was pointing out to her fellow first years that the ceiling was enchanted, reciting à la 'Hogwarts: A History.'
Stopping in front of the staff table, Professor McGonagall placed a three-legged stool on the floor and put a ragged old hat, clearly showing its age, on top of it. The first-years stared at the dirty rag of a hat. So did all other occupants of the hall. For a fleeting moment, all was silent, not a sound was uttered. Suddenly a tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:
Every autumn, young first-years arrive to try me on.
I'm the Hogwarts thinking cap, and will Sort you tonight.
I've had loads of time to think where you belong.
So put me on, don't be afraid, I will pick what's right!
Perhaps you will find your place among the mighty Gryffindor,
Where the daring and brave at heart can soar!
Although if you have a ready mind and will to learn,
Then you will find your kind in wise old Ravenclaw.
On the other hand, you may be suited in loyal Hufflepuff,
Among them are those who are patient and just.
If your real friends are those who are cunning and use any means,
Last of the Hogwarts four, you will be in sly Slytherin.
Now comes the end of my Sorting song, which house for you?
Be it Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin.
From these four I will choose.
So don't fret - hold tight. The Sorting begins tonight!
The Great Hall erupted in applause, the hat mumbling its thanks. Another year spent thinking up a song to sing. Professor McGonagall had unrolled a large scroll of parchment while everyone was clapping, and was now calling for silence.
"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the waiting first-years. "When the Hat announces your house you will go and sit at the appropriate table."
As McGonagall called out the names, quickly reaching the 'C's, Harry had turned back to the staff table and saw Jon's father in deep conversation with Professor Dumbledore. Occasionally, one would nod towards the end of the hall, or in the direction of the small study, where Sirius currently resided while the Sorting Ceremony was continuing. Following Dumbledore's gaze, Harry was amazed to discover ten people at the end of the hall, dressed in deep grey robes with hoods that masked their faces from view. They stood in two groups either side of the doors. Harry seriously doubted that any of the other students had noticed their presence there tonight. Pausing long enough to cheer, as "Jordan, Elyn," became a Gryffindor, Harry chose to ignore the strange visitors and instead looked back towards the staff table.
Dumbledore caught his eye and nodded towards Harry, a smile on his lips and his sapphire eyes twinkling from the light of the enchanted ceiling. Harry grinned back, and continued to glance over at the gathered professors. There was Professor Vector, Hermione's Arithmancy teacher, and a few seats further on sat Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department, her cool gaze flitting from student to student as each one sat on the stool and placed the Sorting Hat over their head.
The hat barely even brushed the head of one girl before shouting, "SLYTHERIN!" amidst an almighty roar from the Slytherin table. It was the first new student into the house that night, and McGonagall was busy reciting the 'R's by now. Gryffindor, meanwhile, had swelled its ranks almost to bursting point. Dumbledore was more amused than usual in that he had to stand up and extend the length of the table, just so that more first-years could sit.
Hufflepuff was the quietest of all the houses that night. They were all still in mourning for Cedric Diggory. A small band of Ravenclaws also looked glum and downbeat. Among them was Cho Chang, who had been Cedric's girlfriend as far as Harry knew. Raising her head, Cho stared directly into Harry's eyes, a single pearly tear washing down her cheek, and the corner of her mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. Harry's stomach lurched, making him want to look at anything other than the person staring so intently at him, but found he couldn't. He returned the smile, trying to make it as small and unnoticeable as he could; the Slytherins would revolt in disgust if they caught evidence of Harry being even the slightest bit happy.
It wasn't the Slytherins that were bothered by this chain of events though, rather, two Gryffindors who happened to be sitting very close to Harry indeed. A dark scowl had befouled the beautiful features of Ginny Weasley as she looked towards the Ravenclaw Seeker and Hermione had furrowed her brow in annoyance.
Farther up from the group of friends, sat a sixth-year prefect. His left hand was absently rubbing his temples, and he was concentrating very hard. It was more difficult than ever for Jonathan Clift to keep his barriers up. Emotions were fraught with excitement and anticipation and it didn't help matters that most of them were coming from the table he was sitting at. Suddenly, a single, dark thought broke through his defences and he gasped audibly above the noise. A few students around Jon heard, looked towards him, and simply assumed that he had a terrible headache – possibly even a migraine. How close to the truth they were, yet so far from it – Jon's head didn't ache, it screamed, pounding away at his mind. This was the burden he carried. With great powers always came terrible burdens and great responsibilities, and Jon was no exception to this.
Harry felt a sharp twinge increasing in intensity inside his head. It throbbed and was occasionally mind-numbingly agonizing. He knew somehow that someone else was experiencing these pains but he didn't know who or why. Looking around the room he wrote to memory the image of Dumbledore rubbing his temples but stopped when he saw Jonathan with both hands covering his face, rubbing his temples furiously, while his eyes were closed tightly.
'What's wrong with him?' thought Harry. Unsurprisingly the deep voice answered, followed soon after by phoenix song. 'He is being bombarded with the emotions and thoughts of the people around him.' Hermione turned around and looked at Harry in a way that made his heart flutter.
"Did you hear that voice again Harry?" she asked.
"Of course I heard it. What I want to know is why you heard it as well," he replied, still thinking about what the voice had said. At times both Dumbledore and Jon had seemed to know what Harry had been thinking, and both of them were rubbing their temples furiously. Then it hit him. The voice had just said that Jon was being bombarded with the emotions and thoughts of the people around him. Professor Dumbledore and Jon must be mind-readers.
Both Jon and the headmaster stared at Harry, shock registering clearly on their faces. The Sorting Hat pronounced Dominic Wroughton a Hufflepuff, thus ending the Sorting Ceremony, with Professor McGonagall proceeding to remove the Hat and the three-legged stool from the Hall. Eventually she took her place by the headmaster's side.
Dumbledore rose and began to gaze briefly at every prentice-wizard in the large room. "The start of another year at Hogwarts. We welcome into our fold young first-years, their heads undoubtedly brimming with questions and other such things. After the feast I must ask that everyone present remain seated and listen to my words—failure to listen will result with the consideration of your suitability for studying at Hogwarts." A large gasp echoed around the Hall, as he continued. "On that note, there is something left to do which shall take up at least an hour of your time," (he paused once more as an even louder, though clearly stifled moan rippled through the student body), "I'll begin with two words. Dig In."
"Finally!" said Fred, seizing his knife and fork with an unnatural fervour. A large rumble emanated from his stomach and George, always nearby, shifted slightly further in his seat, away from his twin (eliciting a small giggle from Ginny as she noted just why he moved).
As if by magic, food appeared suddenly in copious quantities upon every available platter in the Hall. A pale head arose through the plate of Elyn Jordan, eliciting a scream of, "The Bloody Baron!" from her lips as she scooted backwards, away from the table. The gaunt image of a thin man with silver bloodstains across his robes ascended fully above the table. The silent spectre floated towards Harry, its blank gaze penetrating through him, sending an icy shiver over his skin.
The Slytherins' house ghost hovered over Harry's succulent roast chicken, and his gaze fixed upon the Gryffindor. "Er…What d'you… what is it you want, Mr. Baron?" asked Harry, suddenly realising that he'd never actually seen the Baron this close before, much less heard him speak. A ragged wheezing sound burst from the spirit's mouth, hushed, but still audible.
"The Prophecy… will be… fulfilled."
With that said, the Baron sauntered towards the Hufflepuff table (as only a ghost can), causing a pair of second-year girls to drop their plates with a loud clatter and an ear-splitting shriek.
Thinking he'd lost his appetite Harry began to push his plate away when his stomach rumbled loudly, like Fred's had done a few moments ago.
"What the hell was that all about?" asked a dumbfounded Ron, in his hand a half-forgotten chicken leg.
"I've no idea, Ron," said Harry, a roast potato now poised on the edge of his fork.
"Something's going on," whispered Hermione. "First of all you start hearing a mysterious voice and phoenix song, and now the Baron actually speaks to someone. A Gryffindor no less." Harry noted the emphasis Hermione placed on the words 'actually,' and 'speaks.' Thinking this over, Harry came to the conclusion that he'd just have to talk with Dumbledore later that evening. He'd be all right; as long as Hermione was with him, he didn't care what happened.
As the food quickly disappeared from the plates and filled empty stomachs, Dumbledore rose to his feet once more. For a split-second his gaze flicked towards Jon, before looking towards the doors at the other end of the Great Hall. The loud hum of chattering students, which had permeated the cavernous room, ceased almost at once, leaving only the buzz of silence.
"So!" said Dumbledore, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Now that your stomachs are full, and we are well watered," (Hermione scowled again—she still hadn't gotten over having house-elves at Hogwarts), "I must ask for your attention.
Firstly Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to inform you that once again the list of forbidden objects within the castle has been lengthened. No longer will Fizzing Whizbee's, Canary Creams, Cockroach Clusters," (a scowl formed on Dumbledore's face at this), "and a multitude of other items—under the collective name of 'Wizard Wheezes,'—be allowed. The list now comprises a total of five hundred and seventy-three, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office should anybody wish to check it." Again the corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched.
The headmaster continued. "As ever, I must remind you all that the Forest is out-of-bounds to all students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to those below fourth year." A sharp intake of breath could be heard from every person in third year as they realised that their chance to visit the wizarding village had just been taken from them. "The reason for this is, for the benefit of our younger students, due to the recent rebirth of Lord Voldemort."
At least half of the first-years fainted at the sound of The Dark Lord's name, uttered so casually by the silver-haired wizard. Two of the few that showed no change in expression were Elyn Jordan and Dominic Wroughton. They had looks of fierce determination upon their bright faces. Harry let his gaze travel around the Hall, mentally recording each of the students' reactions. He noted that Jon had a look of cold fury in every line of his young face, though his eyes were curiously remiss of anger. A sense of power radiated from Jon, as though a burning heat was emanating from him. It was the same feeling of power that Harry had seen coming from Dumbledore at the end of last year, when Barty Crouch Junior had taken Harry up to the DADA office. He had nearly been murdered that day and Dumbledore had blasted the door to splinters, knocking the death eater to the floor unconscious, with a simple stunning spell.
Harry had understood, then, why Dumbledore was the only wizard Voldemort had ever feared, and from that point onwards Harry had seen the professor in a new light. Jon, it seemed, was capable of the same power as the professor. If that were true then Jon must surely be a very powerful wizard indeed.
The headmaster continued. "The Ministry of Magic did not wish me to tell you at the end of last year that he had returned. They still refuse to believe that he has returned. First-years, it is possible that your parents also will be horrified that I have told you this – either because they also refuse to believe that Voldemort has come back, or because they think I should not tell you, young as you are." It was the same speech he had given at the Leaving feast, except he hadn't mentioned either Harry or Cedric this time. "As some of the older students will no doubt know, I believe that truth is generally preferable to lies. Any attempt to believe that Voldemort has not been reborn would be an insult to the memory of Cedric Diggory and to the one person among you who has the courage to stand up and fight Voldemort, Harry Potter." Harry just stared at Dumbledore, determined not to let his gaze slip and meet the eyes of every other student as they looked at him with mixed expressions and quiet murmurs. Eventually every one turned back to Dumbledore.
"As many of you know, Harry lost his parents to Voldemort when he was only a year old. Yet Harry does not live in fear of him. He has been attacked and tortured by Voldemort on two successive occasions since he began at Hogwarts. Yet Harry does not live in pain. You all, like Harry, must not live in fear for your lives. Instead you must live with the knowledge that by learning all you can whilst here at Hogwarts, you will one day be in a position to prevent others like Voldemort from causing such destruction. I must now openly apologise to Harry for reminding him of such memories. All of you raise your glasses. To Harry."
While Dumbledore had said 'All of you,' he had been looking directly at Draco Malfoy, who squirmed visibly in his seat. Cowering under the fierce gaze of the silver-haired wizard, Draco too raised his glass, but uttered not a single word. Harry's cheeks burned a fierce red, but seeing Draco's expression caused an insane grin to suddenly light up his features. Harry merely winked at Draco and returned his gaze to Dumbledore, who had remained standing.
"Now that you have all been fore-warned, it is my grave duty to inform you all that there will now be a curfew at night to prevent any mishaps from occurring. No student is to be found outside of their respective common room after eight o' clock unless accompanied by a prefect or a teacher. There will be no exceptions to this rule, and anyone found breaking it will have their privileges within the castle revoked. Their head of house will decide on the appropriate form of action."
Pausing for a few seconds, Dumbledore appeared weary; his shoulders were drooping low and his eyes held a dim illusion of their usual twinkle. "Onto brighter things now I believe. As most of you are aware," (Dumbledore looked at a few students from each table), "Last year we had to postpone the usual Inter-house Quidditch Championship. This year it has returned and I believe that Gryffindor will be the defending champions." A loud cheer erupted from the Gryffindor table then, more extensive in volume due to the recent overfilling of its ranks. A cheer so loud the ceiling shook and the face of almost every Slytherin darkened. 'Yes!' thought Harry excitedly.
With a single cough, the Hall quietened immediately. "Ahem… Lastly, it is my pleasure to welcome three new professors to Hogwarts. Many of you will be saddened to know that our Care of Magical Creatures professor, Hagrid, is unable to attend this term as he is currently elsewhere on Ministry matters. In his place I am delighted to announce Professor Ward," said Dumbledore, pointing towards the woman in blood red robes. "Professor Ward is an extremely qualified witch and has worked with many dangerous and magical creatures in her career. Quite recently she has recovered from a bout with a Hydra in which, I am happy to say, she prevailed." Dumbledore looked towards the woman seated in Hagrid's usual place and smiled benignly at her, as he began to give a round of applause. As if on cue the other teachers followed suit, eventually every person in the Hall had followed suit and were clapping the newest professor.
"Next we have someone here who is extremely qualified in the art of Potion making, who will be covering for Professor Snape in his absence this year. Welcome, Professor Rinier!" The taller of the two women that had followed Dumbledore into the Hall now caught Harry's attention. This was the woman to whom Remus had been very close when they were at Hogwarts. Gazing into her mysterious eyes Harry could definitely tell what had attracted Remus to this enchanting woman. There was a Gothic look to her with some sort of European twist. Harry couldn't place his finger on where she came from but it made her look all the more exotic and alluring. Her long hair was black as night but shone with wild red highlights, her eyes were steel grey with a hint of hazel. She wore robes as dark as her hair but with a forest green lining.
Harry was mesmerised. Something was going on inside of him that he seriously wasn't sure of. He had started to find older women attractive and he kept flirting with his best friend and his other best friend's sister. 'Hormones. It must be hormones, afterall, I am growing up,' he thought to himself, after he'd managed to break his gaze away from Professor Rinier. He was vaguely aware that Dumbledore had begun to talk again,
"…this year is no exception. Here is your new Defence Against The Dark Arts Teacher, Solaris Clift." A ripple of surprise flowed through the gathered wizards. Obviously Solaris was famous in the wizarding world for some reason that Harry, being cruelly confined to the Muggle world during the summer holidays, had never heard.
"Solaris, as many of you know is the head Auror for the Ministry of Magic and has been responsible for the filling of many of Azkaban's cells. He is more than capable of performing the duties required of a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Now, as he is a respected and well valued member of the Ministry, I ask of you to treat him with the same level of respect that you hold me in. Solaris, I believe it is time to allow you to speak for yourself." Indicating the younger man, Dumbledore sat down, a look of profound tiredness in his eyes that clearly showed the strain he was under.
"Thank you, Albus," muttered Solaris, his face showing just as much strain as Dumbledore's. "As Albus so kindly pointed out, I am the Head Auror at the Ministry and therefore it is not only my duty to teach you valuable defence tactics but also to provide you all with protection. May I introduce ten of my best aurors to you who will be protecting Hogwarts all year. Most of you will probably have not noticed them as you entered the Hall; this will be the same for any potential intruder. They have all been trained in the art of dealing with the dark forces and will not hesitate to prevent anything that they feel comes under the category of Dark Magic. Therefore I must second Albus' decision to have a curfew. Anyone caught out of bounds or acting suspiciously will be apprehended and brought directly to me. Thank you for listening."
Solaris sat down and a quiet buzz of chatter suddenly whipped round the room.
One by one the teacher's stood and began to leave, small bands of older students following them. Eventually some of the prefects began to lead their first-years to the common rooms. Jon Clift stood up and casually wandered over to the staff table and a short conversation between Dumbledore, Solaris and himself occurred. Harry, not being either a mind-reader or very capable at lip-reading, didn't catch a single word. Meanwhile, Ron and Vicky bade their farewells and wandered off to Gryffindor Tower, arm in arm. Seeing Hermione stand up, Harry realised that it was time for them to fulfil some of their duties. Hermione quickly glanced at Harry, and in a flash of rapport Harry realised that he needed to talk with Dumbledore.
For the countless time, Dumbledore had yet again appeared to read Harry's mind, for at that very moment he was striding towards Harry, Solaris and Jonathan by his side.
"Harry, something tells me that you wish to speak with me. I must first, however, allow you to perform your duties as a prefect. Jonathan here, being an older student, will help you to see all first-years to your common room. Once you have addressed them you three will then come to my office."
Harry, unsure of what to do, decided to follow Hermione's lead, as she quickly spoke in a commanding voice to all of the many first-years before them. "First-years, follow me." Harry closely shadowed Hermione's every step, making sure he was visible to the first-years yet still able to keep up with Hermione. Jon on the other hand hung back, looking after the stragglers that were too far from Harry and Hermione to hear their words.
After leading the vast group of chattering children, Harry, Hermione and Jon found themselves standing in front of a portrait of a rather plump woman. The gold writing on the plaque, which was situated at the bottom of her frame, read 'The Fat Lady.' Elyn Jordan was talking loudly, saying to the students around her how all of the portraits could talk and, that you needed passwords to get past some of them.
"Password?" asked the Fat Lady, scaring a few pupils out of their insane chattering. Harry looked wildly towards Hermione. While Harry had been talking with Jon and Clara, he realised he had not heard what any of the passwords were.
"Phineas Nigellus," spoke a deep voice, before Hermione had even had a chance to open her mouth. Jon was meanwhile striding through the hole behind the portrait and into the Common Room. Harry ended up being the last through the portrait. He heard the latch click shut behind him. Determined to do at least one thing right he strode over to the staircase that led to the dormitories, Hermione by his side. Jon merely sat down in a comfy armchair close to the fire and began to stare into its flickering depths as if divining some kind of knowledge from them.
"This is the Gryffindor Common Room. Here you'll spend most of your time outside of lessons, and it'll be like the main room of your houses back home. All notices relating to events in and around the school can be found on the noticeboard on that wall over there," said Harry, pointing towards the wall with the Common Room entrance within it.
"It's late now, and I'm sure you all want to unpack. Girls dormitories are up these spiral staircases and to your left, boys are down and to your right. It's best if you get an early night's sleep as you will all need to be in the Great Hall for breakfast where you will be given your timetables for the year," Hermione continued.
As the wide-eyed young witches and wizards wandered lazily up to their homes for the next nine months, Jon stood up abruptly, a look of relief evident upon his face. Using his wand he placed a charm on the door that led to the dormitories, preventing them from being opened except by a counter-curse that only he would be able to perform.
"Just in-case some of the first-years get any ideas about leaving the safety of the Tower," he spoke quietly, almost muttering to himself. "Mind you, it's usually the older students that do that kind of thing." In the light of the candles and the fire, Jon's eyes had a misty look to them. There was also a small but noticeable grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Anyway, best get you two off to see Al–Professor Dumbledore then." Jon spared a quick glance at his companions. Neither had detected his sleight. 'Must remember to call him Professor while I'm here—it's taken me five years to do it and I still muck up occasionally.'
'Try harder then,' said a deep mellifluous voice at the back of Jon's mind. He was also fed up with hearing that voice. 'Isn't it bad enough I have the same dream every single night?' he asked, knowing no answer would be forthcoming.
A short while after all this had happened, the three prefects found themselves standing in front of a particularly ugly-looking, stone gargoyle. Raising his hands in front of him, Jon muttered, "Maple Syrup," and the gruesome statue leapt aside, revealing a spiral stairway that rose steadily upwards.
Stepping off of the steps at the top, Jon knocked politely on the large oak door in front of him. Jon noticed that the knocker was no longer a gryffin but that of a phoenix, with its wings spread wide. 'That's odd,' he mused. Just then, the door swung inwards, and Dumbledore's office lay beyond.
"Hi, Dad," he said.
There, ensconced in a plush red armchair, sat Solaris Clift, idly twiddling his thumbs.
"Hello, Jonathan."
Responses
Raine an Frodo ~ Glad you liked the last chapter ^_^ I promise that Harry and Hermione's connection will grow over time, but, like all relationships that usually last, it'll take some time – just remember, they've been friends far longer than they have anything else. Unfortunately I'm not going to be able to upload the next chapter 'til June-ish, as it's a much longer chapter, it needs a fair bit of editing, and my life is a little busy right now. Don't worry, I'm certainly not abandoning this story…