Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Neville crawled out of their carriage as it came
to an abrupt stop before the gates. The people who had already arrived were
forming a throng about the doors, milling around before entering the
entrance hall. The four of them pushed their way through and, once inside
the castle, followed a familiar path to the Great Hall.
"I hope they hurry up with the sorting, I'm starving," Harry said as they sat down about halfway along the Gryffindor Table.
The hall looked its normal, spectacular self. The ceiling showed all the stars, twinkling and winking as if they were welcoming the students. Hundreds of candles floated above the tables making the empty plates and goblets sparkle. Dumbledore was speaking to a witch on his left side, one whom none of them knew.
"Must be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Hermione said. "I wonder if she's up for the job."
Ron nodded his head automatically. Suddenly, the doors to the hall opened with a bang and all talking ceased. McGonagall was leading in the line of first years, ready to be sorted. Hermione watched intently, Harry gave a small yawn, and Ron put his head on his elbow. After four years of watching the sorting, the fifth one obviously wasn't going to be much more exciting.
It passed by quickly, and after the whole hall had finished clapping for "Wanek, Megan," Dumbledore rose to his feet. The hall was silent in anticipation for his speech.
"Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! As you may or may not have noticed, we have made an addition to our wonderful staff. Teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts is Professor Amante!" he said, motioning to the witch on his right. She had long black hair and blue eyes, and smiled shyly when the short applause following her name ensued. "First years please note, the Forbidden Forest is off limits, as a select few of our older students should remember also...Quidditch try outs will be held..."
Ron zoned out of the speech. He had heard the same thing years before, he knew what was being said, but when the rest of that hall clapped for the end of his speech and the beginning of the feast, he put his hands together also.
The feast began, and for a few moments, he and Harry were incapable of regular speech as their mouths were bulging with potatoes, steak, roasted pork, lamb chops, and an assortment of cooked vegetables. Hermione simply shot them looks of the deepest disgust. In about a half an hour, the plates cleared and heaps of delicious desserts appeared. Ron was helping himself to the last bit of his rhubarb crumble, when the dishes were once again wiped clean and they were dismissed.
"Good feast..." Harry said before yawning enormously. His glasses fell off and he had to stoop down to catch them before they were crushed in the stampede.
"I noticed; you two were practically snogging your food!" Hermione said, wrinkling her nose.
"We were not! It was just good, that was all," Ron said indignantly.
"Sure....." Hermione said, and started to laugh.
Ron woke early the next morning, a fully formed plan whirring through his head. He threw the covers off of him, dressed at top speed, and hurried out of the dormitory.
"Where have you been?" Harry asked twenty minutes later as he himself shook sleep from his head. "Why'd you just run in?"
"Oh, you'll see at breakfast," Ron said happily, as he tied his shoelaces. A huge grin was plastered on his face.
Harry was watching him, and started to smile wryly. "Come on lover boy....you can tell me! Where were you?" he asked.
"I told you, you'll see at breakfast!" Ron replied, a small flush creeping up his face and into his ears.
Ten minutes later, the two were sitting at the Gryffindor table, examining their new class schedules with slight frowns. Hermione joined them, and took her own schedule from Professor McGonagall.
"Morning," she said brightly, pouring herself some orange juice. "Mail's due any minute...."
Ron knocked his fork purposefully to the floor when hundreds of owls streamed into the hall. He pretended to be fumbling with it as Hermione began to speak.
"What's this? I usually don't get anything except for the paper..." she opened a small envelope as a large barn owl took off. "What-who-" she said, staring at the letter. Harry snatched it out of her hands.
"'Dear Hermione, Where can I possibly start with this? I love you, I love you more than you could ever imagine. Do wait for my next letter for more about me. Love, Your Secret Admirer.' Wow, Hermione. Someone sure does like you," Harry said, setting the letter down.
Ron emerged from under the table, and tried his best to look mildly curious. "Wonder who it could be. Maybe it's Terry Boot, he seemed to think you'd be soul mates since he learned you could do a Protean Charm," Ron said, teasing her.
Hermione bit her lip and looked around the hall as though she expected the person responsible to wave in greeting. She looked back at Harry and Ron, carefully slipped her schedule and her letter into her bag, and swung her legs off of the bench. "We'd better get going, we've got Defense Against the Dark Arts first, and we don't know how strict that new professor is."
"I hope they hurry up with the sorting, I'm starving," Harry said as they sat down about halfway along the Gryffindor Table.
The hall looked its normal, spectacular self. The ceiling showed all the stars, twinkling and winking as if they were welcoming the students. Hundreds of candles floated above the tables making the empty plates and goblets sparkle. Dumbledore was speaking to a witch on his left side, one whom none of them knew.
"Must be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Hermione said. "I wonder if she's up for the job."
Ron nodded his head automatically. Suddenly, the doors to the hall opened with a bang and all talking ceased. McGonagall was leading in the line of first years, ready to be sorted. Hermione watched intently, Harry gave a small yawn, and Ron put his head on his elbow. After four years of watching the sorting, the fifth one obviously wasn't going to be much more exciting.
It passed by quickly, and after the whole hall had finished clapping for "Wanek, Megan," Dumbledore rose to his feet. The hall was silent in anticipation for his speech.
"Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! As you may or may not have noticed, we have made an addition to our wonderful staff. Teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts is Professor Amante!" he said, motioning to the witch on his right. She had long black hair and blue eyes, and smiled shyly when the short applause following her name ensued. "First years please note, the Forbidden Forest is off limits, as a select few of our older students should remember also...Quidditch try outs will be held..."
Ron zoned out of the speech. He had heard the same thing years before, he knew what was being said, but when the rest of that hall clapped for the end of his speech and the beginning of the feast, he put his hands together also.
The feast began, and for a few moments, he and Harry were incapable of regular speech as their mouths were bulging with potatoes, steak, roasted pork, lamb chops, and an assortment of cooked vegetables. Hermione simply shot them looks of the deepest disgust. In about a half an hour, the plates cleared and heaps of delicious desserts appeared. Ron was helping himself to the last bit of his rhubarb crumble, when the dishes were once again wiped clean and they were dismissed.
"Good feast..." Harry said before yawning enormously. His glasses fell off and he had to stoop down to catch them before they were crushed in the stampede.
"I noticed; you two were practically snogging your food!" Hermione said, wrinkling her nose.
"We were not! It was just good, that was all," Ron said indignantly.
"Sure....." Hermione said, and started to laugh.
Ron woke early the next morning, a fully formed plan whirring through his head. He threw the covers off of him, dressed at top speed, and hurried out of the dormitory.
"Where have you been?" Harry asked twenty minutes later as he himself shook sleep from his head. "Why'd you just run in?"
"Oh, you'll see at breakfast," Ron said happily, as he tied his shoelaces. A huge grin was plastered on his face.
Harry was watching him, and started to smile wryly. "Come on lover boy....you can tell me! Where were you?" he asked.
"I told you, you'll see at breakfast!" Ron replied, a small flush creeping up his face and into his ears.
Ten minutes later, the two were sitting at the Gryffindor table, examining their new class schedules with slight frowns. Hermione joined them, and took her own schedule from Professor McGonagall.
"Morning," she said brightly, pouring herself some orange juice. "Mail's due any minute...."
Ron knocked his fork purposefully to the floor when hundreds of owls streamed into the hall. He pretended to be fumbling with it as Hermione began to speak.
"What's this? I usually don't get anything except for the paper..." she opened a small envelope as a large barn owl took off. "What-who-" she said, staring at the letter. Harry snatched it out of her hands.
"'Dear Hermione, Where can I possibly start with this? I love you, I love you more than you could ever imagine. Do wait for my next letter for more about me. Love, Your Secret Admirer.' Wow, Hermione. Someone sure does like you," Harry said, setting the letter down.
Ron emerged from under the table, and tried his best to look mildly curious. "Wonder who it could be. Maybe it's Terry Boot, he seemed to think you'd be soul mates since he learned you could do a Protean Charm," Ron said, teasing her.
Hermione bit her lip and looked around the hall as though she expected the person responsible to wave in greeting. She looked back at Harry and Ron, carefully slipped her schedule and her letter into her bag, and swung her legs off of the bench. "We'd better get going, we've got Defense Against the Dark Arts first, and we don't know how strict that new professor is."