Before long, the Hogwarts Express arrived at the station and the students clambered out of the train and into the Thestral-drawn carriages. Harry shivered as he looked at their dragon-like heads, and turned away. He caught sight of Hagrid, no longer looking as battered as he had been the previous year, and grinned and waved back as Hagrid waved to him. It was a heavy, humid evening and as Harry, Hermione, Ron and Neville clambered into their carriage the first low rumble of thunder sounded over the hills.
Surprisingly, Neville chatted the most as they rode up to the school. Harry didn't feel like talking much, and Ron and Hermione kept shooting awkward glances in Harry's direction. He wished they wouldn't. He felt bad enough without his friends feeling as though they couldn't act normal around him.
It was almost a relief to reach the Great Hall and sit amongst the other chattering students, ready for the Sorting and the feast. Almost. As they entered, the noise level dipped as people turned to stare at them, then doubled in intensity as people resumed their conversations.
Harry glanced up at the High Table, almost interested to see who would be their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and was surprised, yet delighted, to see Remus Lupin sat near Dumbledore. Lupin caught Harry's eye and flashed him a quick smile, before resuming his conversation with Professor Sinistra. Harry smiled his first real smile for a long while, and turned to Ron and Hermione.
"Have you seen who's here?" he asked, gesturing at the High Table. Ron and Hermione both glanced up and grinned.
"Professor Lupin!" Hermione squealed. "Oh, it's so good to have him back!"
"Hey, cool!" Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan had just sat themselves opposite Harry and had glanced up at the High Table too. "Might actually learn something this year then!"
"Mind you even a banshee would have been better than that Umbridge," laughed Seamus. "Hey, Harry."
"Hi," mumbled Harry, his eyes fixed on the High Table.
"Listen, mate, me and me mam had a chat over the summer, and, well, she doesn't think you're a nutter anymore. She wanted me to apologise for her, so . . ." Seamus tailed off. Harry shrugged.
"That's all right. It doesn't matter now anyway."
"Nah. Guess not."
"Hey, look, there's Hagrid!" announced Hermione, nudging Harry as Hagrid made his way over to the High Table. "The Sorting should be starting soon!"
Sure enough the doors opened wide and Professor McGonagall entered, leading a line of scared looking first-years and placing the Sorting Hat reverentially in the middle of the Great Hall.
Harry barely listened to the Sorting Hat's song and joined in half-heartedly with cheering the new Gryffindors. He was studying Lupin at the High Table. Lupin was making the effort to appear chatty and care-free to the other teachers, but Harry noticed that he was looking even more tired than usual, and his smiles never quite reached his eyes. I need to talk to you, Harry thought. You're the only one who knows how much losing Sirius means to me.
Harry began to relax as the feast got under way. He caught some of the first-years staring at him, and when they noticed he was looking they hurriedly looked down at their dinners. He turned to make an observation to Ron and Hermione, but they were indulging in their usual pastime of bickering like children.
"Hermione, term hasn't even started yet! Just stop nagging me, I'm sick to dea- to my back teeth," Ron finished lamely, casting a worried glance at Harry, who rolled his eyes.
"Stop it, you two!" he exclaimed.
"Stop what?" asked Hermione, with a slight frown on her face.
"Ever since we got on the train this morning you've been frightened of saying anything in case you upset me! And don't give me that," he added, as Hermione opened her mouth to protest. "I've noticed you doing it! About what happened last year, I'm . . . well, I'm not exactly fine with it, but I don't need protecting, ok?"
"Harry, we just . . . we don't want to upset you," began Ron.
"Well you're doing a good job then!" spat Harry, putting down his knife and fork. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment Dumbledore stood up. Harry turned away from his friends and looked up at the Headmaster. He looked older than Harry remembered, but he surveyed his students with a calming smile, and for the first time since the end of last year Harry felt safe. He's the only one Voldemort ever feared. He won't let anything happen to us.
"Good evening, and welcome to Hogwarts for another year. As you will undoubtedly be aware, the Ministry for Magic has now acknowledged the return of Lord Voldemort. This year will undoubtedly be a lot more difficult than most, and certain changes have had to be made in order to ensure the safety of everybody in the castle.
"Firstly, there will be no Quidditch this year. This . . ." Dumbledore fell silent amongst the buzz of angry chattering that followed his words, and raised his hands for silence. Slowly the Hall quietened. "As I was saying, this is because a lot of you will have your hands full with other matters this year, and certain members of the Ministry feel that it would be too dangerous for students out on the pitch. Secondly, you are all expected to be in your House common rooms by dusk. Anyone caught wandering the castle without permission after dark will be dealt with accordingly. Thirdly, I will ask all students in fifth year and above to stay behind this evening, as there is something I wish to ask of you. Prefects in those years should lead the first-years to their common rooms as usual and report straight back to me.
"I know some of you have suffered losses at the hands of Voldemort and his supporters over the Summer -" Harry caught the Headmaster's eye then and suddenly found a lump rising in his throat – "and I or your Heads of House will always be willing to talk, should you feel the need.
"First years should note that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds. Certain older students may benefit from a reminder of this rule. Mr Filch has asked me to remind students that magic is not allowed in the corridors, and that the list of prohibited items now includes Skiving Snackboxes and Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs. The full list is pinned to his office door, should anybody wish to read it, and now comprises of six hundred and thirty two items.
"And finally, I am delighted to welcome back Professor Lupin, who will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts this year." Lupin smiled as the student population who had witnessed his previous term in the position cheered wildly. Harry clapped so loudly that his hands tingled, his feelings of resentment towards his friends vanishing. He wished that he had Quidditch to take his mind off things, but he had a feeling that he would be so busy this year that he would not have time for it.
The noise level inside the Hall increased, and Harry guessed that Dumbledore had dismissed the school. He turned back to Ron and Hermione. Ron was mouthing off about the fact that Quidditch had been cancelled this year, but Harry thought he sounded secretly relieved; at least he wouldn't be making a prat of himself in front of the Slytherins again.
Harry noticed that most of the Slytherins were leaving, regardless of the Headmaster's request. He didn't particularly care; most of their parents were chummy with Lord Voldemort, and he'd rather not have their spies reporting Dumbledore's movements to the enemy. He didn't notice that a certain someone had not left with the other Slytherins, and was watching him closely.
After a few minutes the prefects reappeared, and Dumbledore walked down from the High Table.
"Thank you all for coming. Now to business. I am sure many of you remember the secret DA meetings last year. I would like these meetings to continue in an official capacity, as there is a very real danger that Voldemort may attempt to seize the school sooner or later.
"The meetings will be taking place twice a week in the Room of Requirement. I will be taking a handful of these meetings personally, as will Professors McGonagall, Snape and Lupin. However, the vast majority of meetings will be left up to you. I now have a favour to ask one of you." Dumbledore turned to Harry and fixed him with the piercing gaze that Harry knew only too well. "Mr Potter, I understand you were a hit with your fellows last year. Would you be willing to teach them again?"
A silence fell that was briefly broken by someone whispering "Yeah, he'd be excellent!" Harry could feel everyone's eyes on him. His mind raced. Last year it had seemed almost like a joke, a way of thwarting Umbridge, but now, with open war almost certainly being declared . . . could he handle the responsibility?
Yes, he thought vehemently. I'll do anything to stop those bastards who killed Sirius!
"I will, Professor," he stated confidently. The students clapped, Ginny Weasley led the cheering, and Dumbledore smiled.
"Thank you, Mr Potter. Our first meeting will be on Tuesday evening at seven p.m. I trust to see you all there. Mr Potter, I would like to see you in my office tomorrow at lunchtime. Until then." Dumbledore swept out of the room, and the students, chattering eagerly, rose to leave.
Harry stood up and walked back up to Gryffindor Tower with Ron, Hermione, Neville and Ginny, determination coursing through him, replacing the hopeless, bitter feeling that he had felt since the incident at the Department of Mysteries. He sank into an armchair by the fire, and smiled at his friends, who were chatting eagerly at the reinstatement of the DA, subconsciously planning his first lesson.
He was home.