EPISODE TWO: SCHOOL NEVER CHANGES

A/N: Yo, denizens. We unite once again. As we begin the second episode, us at SMInc are DYING. Of stress. Just the regular exams and tests would have been hell enough, but now it seems that our teachers have seen fit to give us numerous projects with improbable deadlines. (hmph) So, please forgive if we slighted anything in the story. Including the following tragic mistake recorded in the reviews. Quoted thus:

The past few weeks has been somewhat of a blurry, agonizing BLAH of a time... and a TRAGIC mistake has been made. This story is post-The Gift. Not post-Chosen. I was thinking of The Gift, but somehow I wrote Chosen. Thinking of Gift, wrote the Chosen, desires to kill self for misleading wonderful readers. But I mean The Gift. The episode where Buffy jumps from the tower and saves Dawn and humanity. Again. Yeah.

Dying Roses: Thankies for leaving comments again, we do enjoy your presence. Glad you loved the cookie... go, go get more. There's another platter where that came from. But do leave the one with coconut topping-- it's a ritual sacrifice to The Power Named Whedon and The Transcendence Known As JKR. (grins)

EvilClone: I see you reviewed as soon as it came up… many thanks, much gratitude! I already apologized and thanked you, but well, my desktop plant-slash-clock thing is already named Evil Clone... I cannot dedicate anything more to you, my friend. Cookies re: above comment to DR.

Puika: Hey, hey, hey, hey! Welcome! Loved you, missed you... yaddayaddayadda. Watched a video of you guys in Shanghai today... HI-larious. Exams slowing down the updating, actually.

Without FURTHER ado (rolls eyes), voila.


CHAPTER ONE

It was the sound of the London underground outside that jolted him awake. Cursing the train inwardly, he opened his eyes. There is a pumpkin-sized hole in the curtain on his four-poster bed, resolutely unfixed. He always seemed to get the worst rooms at the Leaky Cauldron. But then, being there was much better than holidaying with the Dursleys, worrying if he'd been abandoned by the Order - he had to thank the Weasleys for getting him out of that hellhole on Privet Drive; they always got him out of there one way or another - but one thing that hadn't changed was that he still couldn't get a good night's sleep.

He checked his watch. Eight o'clock. He had to get up anyway. He had been wearing the watch on his wrist all the time. It wasn't that there was no other way to tell the time in the wizarding world; He just felt better, knowing that a piece of the Muggle world was with him. At least there was a place where no one knew of his identity, knew of what happened that summer, knew of the Dark Lord and of terror.

He got dressed, and went to the eating area downstairs, where it was already buzzing with morning chatter, and Ron and Hermione were having breakfast. Hermione had a thick book placed beside her plate of bacon, and she'd apparently been trying to eat the bacon and read the book without dripping bits of it on the pages. They both smiled nervously at him.

That's what they always did when they saw him join them now. Like they had to be constantly mindful of his feelings and hide things from him. He wished they wouldn't give him the "royal" treatment that made him feel decidedly uncomfortable. He was fine the way he was, whether Sirius was here or not. He could still breathe, and it wasn't like Voldemort would come crashing in any moment, robes billowing, and suck the life out of him. They didn't have to keep their eye on him like he was some sort of legendary gem. He felt like a mummy on display at the British Museum. Hallowed but soffocated.

"Morning, Harry," said Ron.

"Morning," he replied, settling himself down for some toast.

"Want any eggs for breakfast, Harry?" asked Nicola, the pretty, auburn-haired waitress he'd come to know pretty well. At least she, unlike everybody else, treated him like he was a normal person.

"Yeah," Harry replied, rearranging the plates at their table to make more room.

"How'd you like 'em?"

"Sunny-side up please."

"One o' 'at comin' right up." She scribbled the order on her notepad with a mini-quill and flew it towards the kitchen, flickered Harry a smile and bustled off to clean a table.

"So," he said, "What're your plans for today?"

"I'll bet Hermione here would want to start digesting everything in her books instead of what's on her table," Ron said, jerking his head in her direction. "What with her being Head Girl this year an' all. She needs to be a, what do they call it, an example."

"You'd do the same too," Hermione retorted, swallowing her bacon before flipping a page. "The scheduling of the N.E.W.T.s still hasn't changed. If we want to excel in them, we'll have to start revising now, Ronald." She looked at Harry for agreement.

"I... can't," he said quickly, "Still have got... got... some shopping for school supplies to do." He took out his list from his pocket to be inspected.

"Oh! I almost forgot." Hermione fished out an envelope from hers. "Hedwig dropped this off for you this morning. It's from Hogwarts. Must be kind of urgent."

He opened it, and took out the parchment, which bore the school emblem at the top.

'Dear Mr. Potter,' it read.

Due to some business in which the school would need your assistance, we would like to press for you to return one day earlier than the start of the school term (31st August). We will be sending a Knight Bus around to the Leaky Cauldronto collect you, at about 8 in the morning. We apologize for any inconvenience caused, and look forward to your arrival.

Yours sincerely,

(curly, flourishy signature)

Albus Dumbledore

Ron and Hermione looked at him dumbfoundedly when he'd finished reading italoud to them.

"You don't suppose..." Ron began, and Harry could feel exasperation overtake him before the dread did. He could see fear in Ron's eyes, question in Hermione's, and doubt in everyone else's, and he was getting tired.

Hermione kicked Ron under the table.

"Ow! What? That's pretty short notice, isn't it? 31st August? That's tomorrow! It must be-"

"If it was anything concerning the Order, they would've informed your father, Ronald," Hermione pointed out impatiently. "I'm sure it's just school business of some sort."

"Yeah, well..." Harry folded up the letter. "In that case, I need to get my school supplies today... loads of packing up to do..."

"We'll come with you." Ron shoved his plate away. "I'll ask Dad to come with us."

More company. He couldn't help getting a bit irritated. They really weren't planning to let him out of their sight, not even forone second.


The moment Harry stepped through the gates of Hogwarts, he felt he was truly home. Probably no one looked forward to school more than he did, except for Hermione... yeah, Hermione'd give him a run for that title, but his case was different. Hogwarts was his escape from the Dursleys. It was also his protection from Voldemort, although he'd realized that as he'd been growing older, his encounters with the Dark Lord had become more frequent, and he was always just a hairbreadth from getting killed.

But with Dumbledore there, he always felt better. Dumbledore always knew what to do, even when there was nothing to do.

It felt strange, though, to be back so early, when the school was empty. Like the time he had to stay within the school grounds when everybody got to visit Hogsmeade. He knew everyone would be back soon, and he was glad to be there, only because he looked forward to reliving the ordinary bustling school life after the waiting he had to do for the next 24 hours.

"The Headmaster's office, Mr. Potter. He's waiting," said Filch, as he reached to take Harry's chest.

"Thank you," he said, turning for the staircase, and stopped when he saw the tall boy coming down the stairs. "Malfoy?"

Draco hadn't seen him, as he was busy adjusting the unkempt sleeves of his school shirt. It looked as if he'd just woken up and taken a shower, with hair tousled and slightly damp. When Harry called out to him, he actually seemed surprised. He's never worn a similar lookbefore, at least not towards Harry. It is a known fact that he was always expecting Harry to be around the corner for him to jeer at. However, before Harry could ponder further, Draco was already donning his usualsmirk.

"Well, well, back early, aren't we, Potter?" he drawled. He came down the stairs to stand face-to-face with Harry. "What's the matter? Professor Snape thought you lagging behind and dragged you back for extra lessons? Again?"

"I don't see you doing any better, Malfoy," Harry replied coldly. "Apparently, you've been back earlier than me."

For an instant, Draco seemed as if he didn't have a comeback. Harry wasn't sure, but hesitance seemed to flicker across Draco's eyes.

"I've been made Head Boy, Potter," Draco finally said. Sneered. "Dumbledore wanted me back for a little preparation work naturally."

Without another word, he shoved into Harry's shoulder and started to skulk away.

"Wait. I need the password to Dumbledore's office." Harry ventured.

Draco's shoes stopped clacking against the stone floors.

"Incendio titillandus," he replied, without turning his head, then went on his way.

Harry eyed his disappearing backside critically. Yes, everything was still there. The arrogance, the snideness. What was new was the badge to be pinned on his robes. The badge stating that he could reprimand Harry in any way he wished. Harry couldn't contemplate how the school staff could've chosen him. He sniffed, and with a slight feeling of disgust, and continued up the staircase.


A/N: A little short and a little late, I know. (sigh) Please do not be as stingy with your reviews, and take pity on my schedule, which is as stuffed as one of those Thanksgiving turkeys. Cookies for reviews and wePROMISE to be punctual next time!