Chapter 19: Here We Go Again
Harry left his trunk in the hallway and went down to the kitchen. Fred and George were sitting at one end of the table talking something over.
" – no, if we do that, they'll come out in spots."
"I thought that was the point."
"No, we're after stripes this time, remember?"
Mrs. Weasley was emptying a frying pan full of bacon onto a plate being held by –
Uh-oh.
Harry braced himself.
"Harry Potter, sir!" squealed Dobby. The plate went flying as the house-elf streaked across the kitchen in a blur of color to give Harry his usual enthusiastic hug.
"Hi, Dobby," Harry said, trying to ignore the twins' snickering. "How are you?"
"Dobby is just fine, sir..." The house-elf looked up at Harry with a rather mournful look. "But Dobby is wanting to ask Harry Potter something."
"Ask away."
"Professor Dumbledore says this fine house is belonging to Harry Potter now, and..." Dobby took a deep breath as if nerving himself up for something. "Dobby wondered if Harry Potter would wish a house-elf to live here, to be in service full-time."
"Well, Hermione'd have my hide," Harry said frankly. "With her spew thing. Unless of course I paid my house-elf, and most house-elves don't want to get paid..." Then he realized what Dobby was on about, and wanted to hit himself in the head, except that it might give the elf ideas. "Dobby, do you want to be my house-elf?"
"Oh, yes, sir!" Dobby nodded eagerly, then suddenly reverted to sad. "But Dobby does have a problem, sir. Dobby is wishing to stay near Winky, sir, and Winky would not be wanting paying for her work, so Harry Potter could not hire her and Mistress Miney would be most unhappy with him..."
"Dobby, do you like Winky?" Harry asked. "I mean – like her?"
Dobby nodded, flushing (which, for a house-elf, apparently entailed turning a brighter shade of puce than usual).
"Well, then, of course she can come too," Harry said. "I won't insist on paying her if it's going to make her unhappy. And if I'm going to have you lot as houseguests," he said over his shoulder to the twins, "I'm going to need two house-elves."
Dobby was grinning hugely. "Dobby will go back to Hogwarts as soon as he helps Mrs. Wheezy finish with breakfast to tell Winky the good news!" he said, and hurried back to the stove, where Mrs. Weasley was standing with her arms folded, trying to look stern and mostly succeeding. But Harry could see a smile trying to get onto her face, and he understood why – when Dobby was happy, he was so very happy that it was contagious.
He went and sat down at the table, idly watching the twins make notes on a piece of scrap paper. Smiling to himself, he remembered the day they had all gone shopping at Diagon Alley. While Ron was busy stocking up on his brothers' products, Harry had cornered the twins and done a little quiet blackmail...
-----
"Gentlemen, we need to talk," Harry said, motioning Fred and George to a quiet corner of the store, near the poster of the Marauders, which hung in pride of place on the side wall.
"What about, oh intelligent financial backer of ours?" asked George.
"You and Hermione," Harry said quietly. "You are not allowed to tell anyone her Animagus form. Especially not Ron. Understand?"
"And how do you plan to stop us?" Fred asked.
"If you do, I'll tell your mother the one thing you don't want her to know."
"What's that?"
"How to tell you apart."
The twins exchanged startled glances. "Harry, not to be rude, but no one's ever figured that out in 18 years," Fred said.
"What makes you so sure you can do it?" George finished.
Harry pulled his wand. So did the twins.
"That's what," he said, pointing at them.
The twins turned to face each other. "What's it?" George asked. "Looks the same to me."
"Yep. Identical as always. Like looking in a mirror," Fred agreed.
"That's the point. Like looking in a mirror. Left and right are reversed in a mirror. Aren't they?"
"Oh yeah," Fred said, as if this was a revelation to him. "So?"
"And I've been watching you write."
George sagged. "Damn."
Harry grinned. "You favor different hands. That's your secret. And if your mother knew that Fred was left-handed and George was right..."
"Who would have thought," Fred said ruefully, putting his wand away. "Our own parents never even noticed it."
"That's because we switched places on them so often they lost track," George pointed out. "All right, Harry, you win. We won't tell anyone about Hermione."
"But how do you know it's embarrassing to her?" Fred asked. "She said no one else knew about it."
Harry shrugged. "If it means that much to her, it must be embarrassing."
To his relief, the twins didn't press him further. "So, Harry, now that's done with, would you be interested in our newest line of Whistling Sugar Quills?" George asked. "We've gone intercontinental with this batch – maple sugar flavored, very nice..."
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As they walked to King's Cross, Mrs. Weasley in the lead, the twins behind, Ron and Ginny talking about Quidditch, and Hermione discussing N.E.W.T. Defense with Remus, Harry tried not to remember that this time last year, Sirius had been with them, happily scattering pigeons in his enormous dog form...
Thinking about his latest dream helped to keep his mind off things. Life at Carrington was starting to get a little hectic, especially since flyers announcing auditions for the first play of the year, Twelfth Night, had gone up. Ginny had been just a bit nervous about the tryouts...
-----
"I shouldn't have come," Ginny whispered, staring into the packed classroom. "There's so many people. I'll never get in."
"Of course not, if you don't try out," Harry said, trying to be encouraging. "I'll go in with you, if you like."
"Thanks." Ginny smiled gratefully and pressed his hand.
"Audition forms," said a girl with very short brown hair as they entered the room, holding out two sheets of paper.
"I don't need one, I'm not staying," Harry said, waving her off.
"Why not? Doesn't hurt to try," the girl pointed out.
"We were just discussing that very point," Ginny said with a smile. "Please, Harry? I know you don't have any homework tonight."
"Well... all right." Harry took the form and the pencil the girl handed him and found a seat at one of the tables. It was standard, name, phone number, and so on, though he was a little surprised at the height, weight, and hair color slots. He also didn't have anything to put under "experience", so he left it blank.
The audition consisted of a cold reading of a scene, which meant that the two people involved had never seen the scene before. Ginny and Harry had a bit of an advantage, having just finished studying Twelfth Night in their theatre class. The director also let them read together, relieving a little more of Ginny's case of nerves.
The scene was between Viola, disguised as the page Cesario, and her master, the Duke Orsino. The strange, stilted language felt heavy in Harry's mouth, but Ginny seemed to be able to say even the most difficult passages without tripping over anything. She made the five-hundred-year-old words sound like a normal conversation.
That's good. I think.
"Thank you," the director said, making some notes on his clipboard. "Cast list will be up by tomorrow afternoon."
-----
And that was last night. So tonight should be tomorrow, and we'll get to tomorrow afternoon tonight, unless tomorrow morning takes a while, in which case we'll get to tomorrow afternoon tomorrow...
I'm going to stop now, before I drive myself crazy.
"Harry?"
"Hmm?"
"We're here."
Harry looked around. They were, indeed, inside King's Cross station, facing the barrier between platforms nine and ten. "Sorry," he said. "I was thinking about something."
"Shall we?" Remus said, taking a step forward. Harry nodded, and together they passed through the barrier onto platform nine and three quarters, crowded and noisy with all the students and their families.
"Harry!" shouted an excited voice. Harry turned to see Susan Bones, a Hufflepuff in his year and part of the DA, running toward him. "Harry, I wanted to tell you – I've been made prefect! There's a new one in every house from our year!"
"That's great!" Harry said, shaking her hand. "Congratulations. Do you know either of the others?"
"Mandy Brocklehurst for Ravenclaw. She's kind of quiet, but really smart."
"No surprise for a Ravenclaw," Ron said, having come through in time to hear this.
"And Blaise Zabini for Slytherin."
"Who?" Ron asked. "Is that a boy or a girl?"
"Boy," Hermione said sharply. "Honestly, you don't even know all the people in your own year?"
"Not the Slytherins, I don't," Ron retorted.
"Harry, you remember him, don't you? He can see thestrals."
Harry nodded. He did remember... because it had only been him, and Neville, and a stringy-looking Slytherin boy who had been able to see the things Hagrid had taught them about in his first lesson after returning to Hogwarts the previous year, the jet-black, skeletal horses which were only visible to those who had seen death...
"He's not so bad, for a Slytherin," Susan said. "I heard a rumor he was sweet on a Gryffindor girl. Do you know if that's true?"
"Not sure," Hermione said. "Do you know who?"
Susan shook her head. "Sorry. Like I said, just a rumor. But have you heard..." She, Hermione, and Ginny walked off towards the front of the train, discussing the latest gossip.
"Let's find seats," Ron said. "For later, anyway. Remember, we have to go up front and get orders from the Head Boy and Girl."
"Right," Harry said, trying hard not to grin at the "we" part. "Wait, where's Tonks? She said she'd meet us here with the luggage..."
Ron stared beyond Harry's shoulder. "I think I see her," he said weakly.
Harry turned around. A gorgeous blond woman with some very well-emphasized curves was strolling toward them, towing a loaded luggage cart. "Wotcher, Harry, Ron, Remus," she said in Tonks' voice as she reached them. She scowled at Ron. "Put your eyeballs back in, Ronniekins, or I'll curse your eyelids shut."
The sound of his hated nickname seemed to shock Ron back to normality. "Er, thanks, Tonks," he said, turning around and groping behind him for his trunk. Harry rolled his eyes and dragged both Ron's and his own trunks off the cart, putting the handle of Ron's into his friend's hand and reaching for Hedwig's cage with his freed hand.
It wasn't where it had been. Harry looked around, a little startled.
"Allow me?" Remus said with a chuckle. He was holding both Hedwig and Pigwidgeon in their respective cages.
"Thanks," Harry said as Hermione and Ginny came running up to greet Tonks and collect their things. The Hogwarts Express gave its warning whistle, and they climbed aboard to find a compartment.
"Down here," Ginny called after a moment. "Luna's saved us one."
"Oh, great," Ron said under his breath. Hermione kicked him.
"Hello, everyone," Luna said, looking up from the latest issue of The Quibbler as they entered. "Hello, Professor Lupin. Are you coming back to teach Defense again this year?"
"No, I'm not," Remus said politely. "I wish I were, though. Hogwarts is a wonderful place."
"I wish you were, too," said Luna dreamily. "You were a very good teacher. Daddy didn't mind you being a werewolf at all."
Harry wasn't sure if he was allowed to laugh at this. He certainly wanted to.
"But I will be taking the train with you," Remus said. "Professor Dumbledore wants to meet with me about something, and this is as good a way to get to Hogwarts as any."
"We're coming too," Fred announced, appearing in the compartment door. "Just to see the old pile again."
"Un-Umbridge-ified," George added over his brother's shoulder. "And to see our Memorial Swamp, of course."
The train whistle shrieked again, and Harry and the Weasleys hurried out of the compartment to say their goodbyes. Mrs. Weasley kissed them all, including Hermione and Harry, and told all them to behave or else, even the twins. Even after they'd boarded the train, she stood on the platform waving until the train turned the corner and they lost sight of her.
"Come on," Ron said, leading the way out of the compartment. "Be back in a while," he added to Remus, Fred, George, Ginny, and Luna.
"Ron! Hermione! Harry!"
It was Neville Longbottom, as usual looking a bit flustered, with his pet toad, Trevor, held firmly in one hand and his trunk behind him. "Hello, Neville," Hermione said. "How was your summer?"
"Fine," Neville said, carefully putting Trevor into his pocket so he could shake hands with them. "Can I sit with you?"
"If you can find room," Harry said, motioning to the compartment. "We'll be back later."
"Oh, that's right, you're prefects," Neville said, nodding. "See you later, then."
"Bye," Ron said as Neville started dragging his trunk into the compartment.
The three set off up the car, crossed between cars, and stopped.
"It couldn't last, could it," Ron said grimly.
Standing at the other end of the car, facing away from them, were three of the people Harry had not been looking forward to seeing at Hogwarts – Draco Malfoy and his thugs, Crabbe and Goyle, flanking him as usual. The blond boy was talking to someone that Harry couldn't see, because Crabbe and Goyle were in the way. Cautiously, he moved forward, listening.
"... think he cares about you? You're out of your mind! So listen up, Lamb, and listen right. If I ever see you hanging around the dungeons again, I'll – "
"Is there a problem?" Harry said loudly.
Malfoy jumped and spun to face him. "Well, well, Pot-head Potter. What are you doing up here? This is the way to the prefects' compartment, and you're not a..." He trailed off as Harry casually pulled his badge from his pocket. An ugly look came onto his face. "Favoritism," he spat. "That's all it is, just pure Gryffindor favoritism from that Muggle-loving idiot..."
"There's a new prefect in every house from our year, Malfoy," Hermione said, stepping up to Harry's side. "How is it favoritism, if there's one from every house?"
"You're making it up," Malfoy said snidely. "Just to try and get me off Potter's case. Well, it won't work, Granger. There is no new Slytherin prefect from our year..."
"Oh yeah?" said a new voice from behind them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned.
The Slytherin boy who could see thestrals stood there, green and silver badge pinned to his robes. "So what does that make me?" he said tartly to Malfoy. "Chopped dragon liver?"
"Well, excuse me for not knowing, Zabini," Malfoy snapped. "Come on, we're going to be late." He turned and pushed between Crabbe and Goyle, who followed him, finally giving Harry a good look at the person Malfoy had been harassing.
It was a tall, slim girl with long brown hair, leaning against the wall of the car with her eyes shut, her face annoyingly familiar to Harry. The Slytherin boy, who must be Blaise Zabini, stepped between Harry and Hermione with a polite "Excuse me" and touched her gently on the shoulder. "Colleen," he said softly.
Her eyes opened. "Oh, hello, Blaise," she said tiredly. "Malfoy was just telling me what he'll do if he catches me 'hanging around the dungeons'."
"He won't do anything," Zabini said, tapping his badge. "I won't let him." He turned around. "You're Harry Potter, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Thanks for that," said the Slytherin. "I'm Blaise Zabini, in case you didn't catch it."
"This is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger," Harry said, gesturing to his friends. Blaise offered his hand to Hermione, who shook it with only a moment's hesitation. Ron was a little more open about taking his time, but they finally shook after a moment of glaring at each other.
"And I'm Colleen Lamb," the girl said.
"I know," Hermione said, smiling. "We do share a dormitory, after all."
"You're a Gryffindor?" Ron blurted. "Our year?"
Harry swallowed his chagrin. She's my house, my year, and I didn't even know her name?
"Yeah," Colleen said, looking at the floor. "I'm kind of quiet, I guess."
"Come on, they'll be waiting for us," Hermione said, looking anxiously at the end of the car. "Colleen, do you want to sit with us? We're one car back that way, you can't miss our compartment, the Weasley twins are there. Just tell them we sent you. We'll be back later."
"Thanks," Colleen said, smiling at them as they hurried to the end of the car and through to the large prefects' compartment.
"So how many other girls do you share a room with that we don't know?" Ron asked Hermione as they found seats and waited for the Head Boy and Girl to arrive.
"It's just me, Lavender, Parvati, and Colleen," Hermione said. "Sally-Anne Perks was the fifth Gryffindor girl in our year, but her parents moved to Canada in the middle of her third year, so she's not at Hogwarts any more."
A boy Harry didn't know walked in the door, followed by a girl he most assuredly did.
Cho?
Cho is Head Girl?
This might be interesting.
But Cho never even glanced Harry's way. The Head Boy, who introduced himself as David Masterson, a Hufflepuff, did most of the talking, explaining prefects' duties, assigning the prefects to different parts of the train, and pointing out "the new faces among us", getting each new prefect – the newly appointed sixth- and seventh-years and the fifth-years – to stand up and state their name. Harry didn't see much point in him doing it, since the entire school knew his name anyway, but he went along, getting the usual amount of stares and whispers.
"Blaise," he said as the meeting broke up.
"Yeah?"
"You want to sit with us?"
Ron made a funny noise behind him, and out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione's foot move.
"OW! What was that for?"
"Sure," Blaise said, smiling a little at Ron, who was locked in a staring contest with Hermione. "Hey, did you really run a secret Defense Against the Dark Arts club last year?"
"Yeah. The DA, the Defense Association. It's official now, anyone who wants to can join. We don't have to worry about someone ratting us out to Um-bitch."
Blaise snorted. "She really was awful, wasn't she? Not to mention totally unfair. Not that I minded all the points to Slytherin, but I'd rather we win fairly if we can... did you say anyone can join this DA of yours?"
"Yes. Why, are you interested?"
"Some. When's your first meeting?"
"I'll let you know," Harry said, opening the door of the compartment. "It is going to be crowded in here," he said, surveying the already almost full interior.
"We'll leave," the twins said in unison, standing up.
"Good," Hermione said grumpily from the hall. "You take up as much room as four normal people anyway."
"Are you implying we're not normal, Miss Granger?"
"We're hurt."
Fred and George both clasped their hands over their chests and groaned, then walked off down the hallway, whistling cheerfully, and off-key, in unison.
Hermione sighed. "Those two," she said, sounding eerily like Mrs. Weasley, before she entered the compartment. Blaise followed her in, and Harry was about to go in when Ron grabbed his sleeve.
"We need to talk," he hissed.
"What about?" Harry asked, closing the door.
"Him!" Ron said, waving through the glass at Blaise. "Harry, he's a Slytherin! Are you out of your mind, inviting him to sit with us, join the DA? He'll probably rat us out to You-Know-Who first chance he gets!"
"Ron."
"And he can see thestrals, which means he saw someone die, which means he's probably even deeper in with You-Know-Who than Malfoy is..."
"Ron."
"Harry, this isn't a good idea!"
"Ron!"
"What?!"
Harry took a deep breath, vowing not to yell at his best friend. "Ron, we don't even know him. All we know is, he's a Slytherin."
"Isn't that enough?" Ron said angrily.
"No. Would you trust a Gryffindor, any Gryffindor?"
"Yes."
"So did my parents," Harry snapped. "And they died."
Ron paled. "Oh."
"All I'm saying is, let's give him a chance. All right?"
Ron sighed. "All right."
"... so then they dropped the Quaffle again, and I was screaming at the wireless," Blaise was saying as they entered the compartment. " 'Pick it up, you bloody idiots, the name's Cannons, not Cannonballs!' "
"Did you say Cannons?" Ron said, all hostility forgotten. "You support the Cannons?"
"Always have," Blaise said. "Why, do you?"
Ron nodded eagerly and quickly sat down beside Blaise, starting into his usual tirade about how the team was mismanaged, and they could make it to the finals, the talent was there, if they could just learn to work together...
Ginny shot Harry an amused glance from across the compartment, and Remus winked at him before returning to his book. Luna was still reading The Quibbler, Hermione and Colleen were discussing N.E.W.T. level Charms, and Neville appeared to be feeding bits of Chocolate Frog to something in a pot. Harry wasn't inclined to investigate.
Now, if the year only goes this well...
He pulled out his copy of An Advanced Guide to Transfiguration and opened it to his place.
Another year, another set of lessons, and another round of adventures.
And, probably, another bunch of people trying to kill me.
As they say, here we go again.
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(A/N: ::hides under desk, reaches up timidly to type:: I'm so sorry! Really, I am! Please forgive me, and review anyway... and I won't do it again, I promise...
emikae, MackenzieW, Caprice-Ann HedicanKocur (the reason for the delay was that I had to research and prepare a 30-minute speech which I gave in class today... wrote chappie in the relief of having it OVER with), blueJosh (no, I didn't fall off a cliff, I just feel like I did, stupid cold... and were you being snide in your last Extenuating review?), pad's gurl584, Lady Cinnibar, and Lanie (already told you, and you know perfectly well I don't have a life!): Thanks everyone!
See you next time... which will be sooner than last time! Promise!)